"Your suggestion is very good. I also want everyone to see some clips from the new movie sooner. Besides, I'm planning to release it next year, so starting the promotion now isn't too early."
Laila's words put Roy at ease. "That's good, then."
"What are you worried about? That I'd get angry at your suggestion?" She didn't quite understand his thinking. Had she not given him enough confidence in her before? Why would he want to withdraw something that had already been decided? What gave him the idea that she would be upset over such a proposal?
Roy quickly waved his hands. "I'm not worried that the suggestion would anger you. I just don't want you to disrupt your promotional schedule to accommodate me."
Her promotional skills were well-known. He had simply been so stunned by that special effects scene earlier that he blurted out the idea of making a teaser first. Once he'd cooled down, he realized he might have been meddling. If she had other plans in mind but ended up changing them because of his half-baked suggestion, that would be the last thing he wanted to see.
Seeing how much he was thinking of her, Laila couldn't quite describe the feeling in her heart. Was he looking down on himself too much?
"Roy, you've been in Hollywood for ten years now—why are you still doubting your own decisions? Seeing a good clip and wanting to put it in the teaser isn't a bad instinct at all. It's a good thing. Don't you think you're already changing, no longer just standing in the position of an actor?"
Roy himself wasn't sure what had driven him to say what he did earlier. She was so dazzling, so successful, and he knew how much she cared. If such love ended up making unnecessary changes just to accommodate him, he would feel guilty.
She couldn't afford to fail—especially not because of him!
"As long as you think it's fine, then that's enough." He smiled, clearly not wanting to dwell on the topic.
But Laila wasn't about to let him brush it off. "Roy, I think we need to talk about this."
She had always been a rational person, direct to the point, especially on certain matters where she refused to turn a blind eye. What he said might seem like the smallest of things, but she sensed something unusual in it.
She had him sit on a bench nearby, then gently cupped his face in both hands so he couldn't avoid her gaze. "You're very important to me, do you know that? You're the father of my child, the man I love most. In front of you, I'm not the great Hollywood director, nor do I have all those glittering titles. I'm the mother of your child—and I'm the one you love the most."
Roy saw the seriousness in her eyes, slipped an arm around her waist, and drew her closer. "Yes, you're little Eli's mother—and the woman I love most."
"That's right. So there should be no walls between us, and we mustn't ignore problems when they arise. Doing that will only make them grow worse."
"Sorry, Laila, I guess I was overthinking things." Roy apologized earnestly.
Looking at her, he suddenly realized why he'd blurted out such a thing earlier. The truth was embarrassing—because it came from his insecurity.
Yes, he was feeling insecure. Having such an outstanding girlfriend, one admired by the whole world, made him happy and proud—but there was also a faint, nagging worry buried deep inside.
He knew she loved him, had even borne him a child. He'd always believed he could be her support, that through his talent—his acting—he could create a better filming environment for her. Even something as small as reducing her NGs during filming was, in his mind, a way to make her happier.
But since arriving on the island and experiencing this period of shooting, he had suddenly realized he might not be as exceptional as he thought.
He had always been confident in his acting skills, certain he could help Laila with her films. No matter how challenging the role, he could shape it well. That's what he had believed for years—until this shoot…
She was very fond of Leslie Cheung from the East and greatly admired his acting. That gave Roy a sense of crisis he had never felt before. He knew it was just the admiration of a fan, not romantic affection. But knowing was one thing—getting over it in his heart was another.
Acting was the one thing he thought he could offer her, and now another man had taken the upper hand. That was the real root of his sudden burst of insecurity.
When they'd shot The Lord of the Rings, perhaps the role hadn't demanded such intense acting, so he hadn't felt his position threatened. But now, in a film where the entire weight was carried by the two leads' performances, he felt the full terror of his rival.
This was a man who had acting in his bones.
His performance wasn't an act—he was that person. If Roy didn't know what the man was like off-camera, he would have believed it was simply him being himself. The performance was so natural—so natural it made one's scalp tingle.
For a director, such an actor was gold. For the audience, it is irresistible. But for a co-star who was also in love with the director, he was hard to like. Roy respected the man's brilliance as an actor—but emotionally, he didn't like that someone else now occupied first place in Laila's mind.
So, he began treading carefully.
That was why, after casually making the suggestion, he quickly took it back—afraid that a wrong decision would make him fade even more in her eyes. Just as she was the brightest star in his sky, he hoped her eyes would hold no one else but him.
Laila didn't want his apology—what she wanted was to see him with the same confidence as before.
"Can you tell me what happened? You're not someone who normally talks like this."
Roy hesitated, but finally voiced his thoughts.
"…." After hearing him out, Laila didn't know what to say for a moment. She was grateful she had confronted him today—if she'd let him keep stewing, the rift would only have widened until it was beyond repair.
"Roy," she said after thinking for a moment, "what makes you think acting is the only thing you can offer me? Yes, you did win an Oscar for my film, but other people have done that too."
Roy was left speechless. Thinking about it, she was right. Take Leonardo, for example—he had also won his Oscar for one of her films. The more Roy thought about it, the more he realized that what he'd thought was his greatest contribution… wasn't so special after all.