The weather in London on December 16, 2005 was pretty nice.
It wasn't even eight yet, and the sun had already hauled itself out of bed.
Golden sunlight, like dandelion seeds, drifted slowly across the British Isles.
Because it had snowed over the past few days, the world around them looked as though it had been wrapped in a cotton-candy coat, with puddles covering the roads.
Under the mirror-like reflections, Britain, aloof and self-contained, looked like a fairy island in the sea, radiating a golden glow.
Ahem, ahem, ahem—
While Isabella, who refused to leave her warm nest and only wanted to be sealed inside her blanket, was ruthlessly dragged out of bed by her older sister tugging her ear, the sun, which had already been "working" for a while, seemed to be panting there, huffing and puffing.
She pulled open the curtains and stepped into the sunlight.
The warmth known as "life" felt more like the sun's breath, wrapping around Isabella and making her feel wonderfully comfortable all over.
After quite a while, Isabella's brain finally finished booting up.
She didn't wash her face. Didn't brush her teeth.
She went straight downstairs and started on breakfast.
The younger daughter's sloppiness made Vivian's eyelid twitch.
Just as she was about to scold her, Isabella suddenly noticed the DV camera on the coffee table, jolted, and perked right up.
She rushed into the living room and picked up the DV.
Back at the dining table, she fiddled with it briefly.
She flipped the screen around, confirmed she was centered in the frame, and smiled as she said,
"Hello everyone, I'm—
Today is December 16, 2005, and I'm currently in London, UK—"
The sudden burst of professional, on-camera chatter made Vivian close her mouth.
After Isabella spent three or four minutes recording and snapped the DV shut, Vivian finally found her chance to speak—
"Isabella, you're not planning to film the premiere of Goblet of Fire and upload it to…
YouTube, are you?"
"Yeah. That's exactly why I had the Warner people get a DV camera."
Isabella smiled and nodded at her mom's words.
"Even though we don't have any formal investment agreement with YouTube yet, but—
I believe they'll accept my investment."
"After all, Sequoia Capital already sold their shares to us.
So—
Let's just film first."
Isabella shrugged slightly, took a bite of the fried egg her mom had made herself, and said indistinctly,
"I'll record everything first. That way, once the contract's signed, I can upload it right away."
"Oh—" Vivian pursed her lips.
She didn't quite understand why her younger daughter had suddenly become interested in an internet company, but thinking back to previous experiences—the fact that The Voice could be turned into a movie, a variety show, and a TV series—she gave up on digging deeper.
Even if the development of The Voice IP felt a bit mystical, some people in this world were just born lucky, weren't they?
That said, just because Vivian wasn't going to obsess over her daughter's wild ideas didn't mean she'd stop watching her sloppy behavior. She cleared her throat and switched into Mom Mode.
"So, since you're filming a video—making content—why don't you at least clean yourself up a bit?"
"Oh—that's because I think videos on YouTube are different from movies in theaters."
Under her mom's scrutiny, Isabella's hairs stood on end.
She swallowed the rest of the egg and smiled.
"YouTube's whole idea is that everyone can have their own TV channel, right? So I think the videos there should be more everyday, more life-like."
"And eating breakfast without doing your hair or makeup first—isn't that normal for a lot of people?"
"Besides, when we went to the dentist before, didn't they say that if you brushed your teeth at night before bed, you could eat breakfast first and brush afterward the next morning? It's better for oral health."
"I think what I'm doing helps close the distance between me and the audience."
"And I've got the looks to pull it off."
"Mom~ you gave birth to me too pretty~ I look good even without makeup~"
The sudden burst of flattery made Vivian lift her chin and raise her brows.
But just as Vivian was about to be talked into it, Catherine, who had been watching the whole thing from the side, suddenly snorted and said,
"Oh—Isabella—stop spouting nonsense."
"I think you're just lazy."
"You didn't even plan to film a video when you got up."
"You didn't mention this yesterday, or any time before."
"The idea to film probably only popped into your head when you saw the DV on the coffee table."
"And if you really skipped washing your face for the sake of filming, now that the video's done, why aren't you going to wash up?"
"Don't tell me you're going to say you're planning to film another segment while washing your face."
"Or that if you go wash now, breakfast will get cold?"
"So—
Mom! She's just eating breakfast without washing her face or brushing her teeth!"
Catherine maliciously ratted Isabella out.
The well-reasoned argument made Vivian frown deeply, her face darkening.
Isabella narrowed her eyes and glared fiercely at her older sister.
"Keisha! I really don't get you! Do you get some kind of benefit if Mom beats me up or something?"
"Of course not!"
"Then why are you picking on me right now?"
"I'm not picking on you. I just want to correct your bad habits."
Isabella was helpless.
Unable to argue her way past her sister, she lowered her head and viciously scooped up the fruit oatmeal in her bowl.
The clinking sounds seemed like loud, angry protest.
At first, Vivian thought her younger daughter's puffed-up, sulky look was kind of funny.
But soon, she felt that something was off.
Even though she had just found Isabella's sophistry somewhat convincing, judging by her usual behavior, no matter how reasonable Isabella sounded, if Vivian thought what she was doing was wrong, she would've already unleashed a full scolding.
But now—
Were these two putting on an act in front of her?
Vivian's gaze drifted back and forth between her older and younger daughters.
She didn't notice anything obvious, but in the end, she still snorted heavily.
"Hmph."
Not happy.jpg
Regardless of Catherine's motive for dissing Isabella, thanks to her interference, Isabella successfully finished breakfast. Then, around eleven in the morning, they left the house and headed for the hotel Warner had arranged.
Right.
To make sure everyone could step onto the Goblet of Fire (Part One) premiere red carpet on time, Warner had long since booked up the hotels near the venue. So after returning to London, Isabella could've gone straight to the hotel with the rest of the group. It would've been the most time-saving and hassle-free option, since there was makeup and wardrobe to do before the red carpet.
But Isabella didn't do that.
After getting off the plane, she went straight home to sleep.
The reasons were simple.
First, she hadn't been home in a long time. She missed home. She missed her bed.
Second, the route from her house to the hotel near Leicester Square was quite pretty.
After getting into the car headed for the hotel, Isabella pulled out another DV and started filming again.
This puzzled Catherine.
"Isabella, do you really have to film all this yourself?"
"I don't think these shots require any special technical skill."
"Oh, Keisha, you're right. Filming this stuff doesn't take much skill. In fact, anyone with a basic understanding of photography could probably shoot it better than I could."
Isabella understood what her sister meant. She kept filming as she spoke.
"But what other people record isn't your life, is it? So this has to be filmed by me."
"…???"
Catherine didn't understand what Isabella meant.
At that moment, she felt her little sister's logic was kind of abstract.
Seeing that Isabella didn't want to elaborate, she stopped pressing the issue.
Their mom in the front seat, however, turned her head and reminded her,
"Isabella, you can film whatever you like, but don't let it interfere with your actual work, okay?"
"Got it, Mom~"
Isabella replied with a smile.
Once she felt she had enough footage, she snapped the DV shut.
That casual, film-when-you-want, stop-when-you-want attitude made Vivian look away.
After Isabella checked into the hotel Warner had booked, Isabella filmed two more clips in front of the mirror, one before makeup and wardrobe, and one after everything was done. Once she confirmed everything was fine, she handed the nearly dead DV to her sister.
She told her to keep it safe. If she lost it—
"Keisha, if you lose this thing, you'll have to atone with your life, understand?"
Isabella switched on her serious bullshitting mode.
Catherine curled her lips.
"Idiot."
She muttered under her breath, took the DV from the middle-school-syndrome sufferer's hand, and looked thoroughly disgusted.
The red carpet for the premiere was scheduled to start at 2 p.m. London time.
After all, December is the month with the least daylight in the UK.
By three, at most four in the afternoon, the sun would be setting.
So if, following "international convention," the red carpet were scheduled for four or five, or even five or six in the evening—then the organizers would truly have rocks in their heads, deliberately choosing to freeze while drinking cold wind in the dead of winter.
But no matter how cold it was, it couldn't freeze the burning hearts of the Harry Potter fans.
When Isabella, dressed in a vintage satin embroidered gown like a movie star from Hollywood's Golden Age, stepped onto the Goblet of Fire premiere red carpet, piercing screams and passionate cheers instantly drowned her out.
As she went through the usual formulaic PR routine—this wasn't her being careless, it was just that she'd walked so many red carpets she was sick of them—
Ever since she entered the industry, she had walked a red carpet almost every single year. The routine had been carved straight into her muscle memory. By the time she was nitpicking red-carpet details, she was already acting on pure instinct. But that wasn't the point right now. The point was—
"What did you say? You got here at ten last night?"
During the interaction segment, the host randomly picked a fan from the crowd and asked when she had arrived.
A brown-haired girl with curly hair gave an answer that stunned everyone.
"Yeah~~~ I got here at ten last night!"
"I live in Edinburgh. I took a train yesterday morning, and by the time I reached London it was already evening."
"I thought staying at a hotel was way too expensive, so I camped out here."
As she spoke, the girl, who looked like she'd only just come of age, showed everyone her gear.
She had a bulging hiking backpack on her back, a large tent rolled up on top, and a big water bottle hanging from each side. The fully armed-to-the-teeth setup made Isabella feel both impressed and curious.
"So—was it cold, camping out here overnight?"
Isabella rubbed her arms and said bluntly, "To be honest, I'm freezing to death right now.
If the Warner people hadn't told me, 'Oh darling, you look better in a dress,' I actually wanted to wear a suit like Daniel and Rupert."
"Of course, if I could've worn a sweater, that would've been even better."
"And I'm pretty sure I look good in casual clothes too. You know what I mean."
Isabella winked at the fans.
"Hahahahaha~~~"
The brutally honest remark made the crowd burst out laughing.
Everyone knew Isabella was referring to her look in The Devil Wears Prada.
The chosen girl, however, shook her head decisively, craned her neck like a goose, and spoke into the microphone held out by the staff.
"No, no, no— not cold at all. Because there's the Goblet of Fire here in the square. It burns all night."
As she spoke, she raised her arm and pointed toward the start of the red carpet.
There stood a gigantic Goblet of Fire, five people tall.
And flames were shooting up from the center.
Real fire.
This was something Warner had specially built to give the premiere more atmosphere.
So with a massive bonfire sitting in an open plaza, not being cold was actually believable.
But—
"Oh, I thought you were going to say you weren't cold because Harry was keeping you company in the square."
The girl's answer made Isabella feel a bit regretful.
After Harry Potter became a cultural symbol exported from Britain to the world, the British government had erected a Harry Potter statue in Leicester Square.
Isabella had expected the girl to say Harry's presence warmed her heart. Unfortunately—
"Oh, Isabella, the reason I didn't mention Harry is because I like you."
"I'm your loyal follower."
"But there isn't a statue of you in the square."
The curly-haired girl smiled as she gave her explanation.
"Wooooow——"
The moment her words fell, the entire premiere erupted into roaring laughter.
"My god— I love that answer!"
"OMG— is she flirting with Isabella?"
"Isabella— I like you too!"
The sudden explosion of noise made Isabella shake her head with a smile.
She raised the microphone and teased, "Oh, I can feel your loyalty, but I'm not a princess, so I'm sorry, I can't knight you. However— I can take a photo with you and get you into the media coverage once."
"Really?!"
The girl was shocked.
And extremely delighted.
The crowd erupted again in astonishment.
Regardless of the noise, Isabella handed the microphone back to the host.
She lifted her skirt and walked over to the girl.
Separated by the barrier, she signaled the photographers to do their thing. After the Warner bodyguard holding the DV camera gave her an OK sign, Isabella's red-carpet journey came to an end. She waved goodbye to the fans still hoping for a bit of luck and, with a sharp "snap," ducked straight into the theater.
The warm air inside brought the nearly frozen Isabella back to life.
She tilted her head toward the bodyguard and glanced at the DV he handed over.
The simple but far-from-ordinary footage made her very satisfied.
After praising the bodyguard a bit, she asked for a fresh DV.
Then she went around greeting friends from the cast and invited guests.
To be fair, a movie premiere was basically a social event, so Isabella's behavior was perfectly normal, but—
"Wait, Isabella, we're already this familiar. Why are we still taking photos together?"
When Isabella grabbed Daniel and Rupert to take a group shot, Rupert immediately froze.
"Did you get frozen stupid out there?"
"If I remember correctly, you never used to take photos with people at premieres."
"And you're holding a DV. That's not even a camera, is it?"
"Oh~ Rupert~ I'm just taking a photo with you. Why are you talking so much?"
Rupert's nonstop yapping made Isabella pout.
"Just say yes or no."
"Uh… can I say no?" Rupert looked at Isabella cautiously.
Using the wimpiest tone to say the bravest thing.
"Oh, Rupert— you're seriously treating this like a multiple-choice question?"
Daniel rolled his eyes.
"You do realize Order of the Phoenix won't start filming until July or August, right?"
"So if your mom decides to control you a bit during that time—"
"If you don't take the photo today, no one's going to speak up for you later."
Before the sentence even finished, Daniel very naturally put on a smile and flashed a peace sign at the lens in Isabella's hand.
Rupert shuddered, forced a smile, and took the photo with her.
From the surface, the star-centered composition looked fine.
But in reality—
The one on the left had a fake PR smile.
The one on the right had a coward's polite grin.
Only the one in the middle was genuinely smiling.
No matter how you looked at it, it felt a bit like a mob boss threatening her two underlings.
But—
"Alright, go do your thing."
Satisfied with the footage, Isabella didn't even bother saying thanks and just slipped away.
The whirlwind exit made the two exchange a glance.
"Daniel, I think Isabella's acting kind of weird today," Rupert said.
Daniel pursed his lips.
"If her 'weird' is just taking a photo with us—
then I can accept that kind of weird."
The red-carpet segment of the Goblet of Fire (Part One) premiere lasted a full two hours.
Normally, Isabella would chat with people for at most half an hour before going inside. But today—
Over those two hours, she filmed a whole lineup of big names.
For example, Madonna, who came with her daughter. Her nine-year-old daughter was a die-hard Harry Potter fan.
No one could resist Harry Potter.
There was also Matthew Vaughnand his wife Claudia Schiffer.
The former directed Lock, Stock and Two Smoking Barrels, and the latter was a German supermodel.
And Kate Beckinsale, the lead actress from Underworld.
She came with her daughter too. Her daughter really, really, really loved Hermione Granger.
Whenever Isabella raised her DV and asked celebrities for a photo, every single one of them greeted her with surprised smiles.
That feeling—
Honestly, in that moment, Isabella felt a bit like someone drifting through a sea of flowers without a single petal sticking to her.
That stamp-collecting feeling was ridiculously satisfying.
Or rather, power was truly a wonderful thing.
If I want to take a photo with you, you'll take a photo with me.
Don't ask why.
Ask, and the answer is: because I can.
Hehe.
When Isabella finally entered the theater right on time for the screening, still unsatisfied but out of time, she leaned back into her seat in contentment.
But the next second, she perked up.
She reached out and poked the person beside her, her designated scapegoat.
Today, she was sitting next to Chris Columbus.
To her right was Daniel.
Further right was Rupert.
Further right was David Heyman.
As for Rowling?
The weather had turned cold, her daughter caught a cold, so she stayed home to take care of her.
"What is it?" Columbus asked curiously at the little movement.
"We already took photos. You want another one?"
"If that's the case, I'll have to charge. My appearance fee is very expensive."
"No, no, no—"
Isabella shook her head.
"I wanted to ask what you think of Goblet of Fire (Part One)."
"You're asking me that? Then you picked the right person!"
Columbus spread his hands helplessly.
"Dear, if I remember correctly, my job overlaps with yours, doesn't it? So how would I know how Goblet of Fire (Part One) turned out?"
"All I can tell you is that Michael, who was overseeing the editing and post-production, told me he's satisfied with the final result."
That's right.
Only now did Isabella suddenly remember that this Goblet of Fire and the one she'd seen in her previous life weren't just 'not exactly the same.' They were completely unrelated.
Different director, for starters. Even the script pacing was totally different.
So how good was the IP that supported her entire career right now?
That was actually the most important question at this moment.
More important than filming any vlog.
And as for that—
Columbus, who knew nothing useful, earned a disdainful pout from Isabella.
Ignoring the useless scapegoat, she focused seriously on the screen.
She was going to watch the finished film.