On the giant screen lowered at the theater, clips from all ten Best Picture nominees began to play.
The more popular titles naturally earned the loudest applause, while the lesser-known ones instantly went from obscure to household names, thanks to the power of an Oscar nomination.
If there was one word to describe it: jackpot!
When the clip from Silence began playing, Laila instinctively reached for Roy's hand. Her heart was pounding so hard it felt like it might leap from her chest.
Who would win?
Would it be her?
Had she finally grown into a true master director—one capable of creating a great film?
Winning Best Director had already affirmed her skill behind the camera.
But Best Picture was the final test.
It would tell her whether she had truly succeeded—even without relying on the "golden finger" of reincarnation.
Could she still create one of the best films in the world on her own merit?
She needed that answer.
She needed proof—proof that she wasn't some lucky cheat with a head start, but a true filmmaker, one of the very best.
Once all the film clips had played, the curtain slowly rose.
Tom Cruise strode confidently onto the stage.
Still dazzlingly handsome—earning squeals and whistles from the crowd—but for the nervous filmmakers in the audience, all eyes were on the envelope in his hand.
He didn't waste time with small talk.
He opened the envelope and announced:
"The Oscar for Best Picture goes to... Silence."
WHOOOSH—
Thunderous applause filled the room.
When it came to Laila, most people in that theater had nothing but respect.
While other directors had only just begun their careers, she had already achieved what others only dreamed of. There was no denying her brilliance.
So the applause was heartfelt.
Everyone believed that as long as she remained in the industry, cinema would continue to shine brighter.
After receiving congratulations from those around her, Laila made her way to the stage.
Louise had always been the producer for her films, but this time, because Silence was so personal, Laila had taken on the producer role herself.
So it was she who accepted the award.
As she stood before the audience, their eyes quietly waiting for her to speak, Laila had so much she wanted to say.
She wanted to share how happy she was.
She wanted to let out all the frustration and regret she'd carried from her past life.
She wanted to tell her family how much she loved and appreciated them.
Winning Best Picture with Silence meant everything to her.
It was validation—not just of her work in this life, but in her previous one as well.
It proved that even without a cheat code, even without rebirth perks, she had the talent and strength to leave a lasting mark on the world's most prestigious stage.
She knew everyone was waiting for her speech.
But truthfully, she'd already said similar things at past award ceremonies.
So she kept it simple:
"Silence is a film of great personal significance to me.
I hope that one day, soon, all places in the world will be free from racial discrimination and unjust treatment.
I wish for peace in the world."
On the surface, it sounded like she was referencing the themes of her film.
But in truth, she was pointing toward something much deeper:
The future of cinema.
As someone with an Eastern soul, Laila hoped that one day, actors of Eastern, Asian, African, and all backgrounds could thrive in a film industry without prejudice—where only talent mattered.
Where everyone could shine on an equal stage.
Her speech was short, but it struck a chord with many.
After all, who in that room could claim they'd never faced discrimination?
Who wouldn't want fair treatment?
Who enjoyed being rejected because of their skin color, or being paid less just because of their gender?
No one.
Of course, no one.
And that's why Laila's few words earned the most enthusiastic applause of the night.
As she walked back to her seat, Roy and the rest of the Silence team welcomed her like a returning hero.
This wasn't her first Best Picture win, but to everyone there, it felt like she was some divine force sent to grace the film industry—once again returning with glory.
"Told you," Roy whispered, squeezing her hand, eyes full of pride.
"You're the best."
Laila looked down at the Oscar statue in her hand, then smiled.
"Now I know that for sure."
She was truly, deeply content.
The unfulfilled wish of her previous life—she had now achieved it.
She had what she had never dared dream of before:
A husband who loved her.
A child who brought her joy.
And a family who cherished her.
In the days that followed, media outlets across the globe unanimously focused on Laila as the star of this year's Oscars.
At just past thirty, she had once again conquered Hollywood's highest stage.
With two films, she won five Oscars, including the three most prestigious: Best Picture, Best Director, and Best Actor for Roy.
No, it wasn't like her previous award sweeps.
This time, the genre itself had limited her chances.
And yet, she still made history—once again becoming the individual to take home the most Oscars that year.
Social media buzzed with trending hashtags like "The Year of Laila".
And everyone agreed:
By the end-of-year awards season, any festivals that had overlooked Silence were going to make up for it.
It would dominate the MTV Movie Awards, the Teen Choice Awards, and every major public-voted show.
It was the film to watch.
Some outlets even predicted that in the decades to come, Laila's two film companies would dominate Hollywood, if not the entire global industry.
And that she, with her god-given talent, would reshape the future of cinema.
And they were right.
The name Laila Moran would never fade.
Even after her grandfather's retirement, when she took over the Moran Group, she continued to produce films every two or three years—consistently offering timeless, world-class stories for global audiences.
She pioneered a unique filmmaking style:
Shooting artistic films with the pace and accessibility of commercial blockbusters.
Her work changed the mindset of many young directors.
Even fans of fast-paced commercial movies began to enjoy the once "inaccessible" world of indie art films.
If you could tell those stories with commercial techniques, the audience would come.
And with that, filmmakers no longer feared that "artsy films" would flop at the box office—meaning more directors could make the movies they truly wanted to make.
Among all the praise Laila received in later years, one achievement stood above the rest:
She brought Eastern actors and films to the center of Hollywood.
Many people didn't understand why she was so passionate about promoting the East.
But what no one could deny was this:
Thanks to her, Eastern cinema advanced by at least fifteen years.
And finally, when Laila Moran stood onstage, surrounded by her husband and children, to receive her Lifetime Achievement Oscar, she said a single sentence.
A line that would be forever etched in film history:
"I am so blessed to have come into this world."
—END OF MAIN STORY—
The main story is complete, but the extras are coming.
What's coming for the extras:
*A funny chapter about how Janet met Mr. Quentin
*Cooper's backstory with Reynolds (aren't you all dying to know what happened between them? 👀)
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This project is a labor of love and free to read. If you'd like to support me in any way:
ko-fi.com/doyenro
Only if you feel like it—I'm just glad you enjoyed it!