It was a surprise for Harry to discover Daniel Hayes lost in a small rehearsal studio in Hollywood, using a white cane to tap against furniture's legs, mumbling lines under his breath. The half-drawn blinds streamed some late morning light through them that slashed across his face when he turned toward the sound of Harry's footsteps.
"Daniel?" Harry paused in the doorway, a grin on his face. "You know there's no one else here, right? You can stop now."
Daniel's eyes did not change focus. "Can I?" he said, quite seriously. "Actually, I've been trying not to. The vision can be distracting."
Harry leaned against the wall, slightly grinning. "You've been faking being blind off set?"
Daniel gave a nod, and with it the cane swept forward and back across the floor. "Method acting, Harry. You said Aaron's blindness - or that he is blind, whichever - isn't just a trick. It's how he experiences it. I can't fake that for the camera if I haven't lived it a small little bit."
Harry chuckled, "I said 'understand it,' not just barely run into tables."
Daniel laughed, and finally looked up, breaking character again. "Fair enough. But I think it's working. The silences, the little pauses that start to feel natural."
Harry nodded, slightly impressed with himself. "You are more committed than most leads I have worked with on their first time out."
Daniel deadpanned, "You've only directed once."
Harry grinned, "Exactly."
They shared a quick laugh before Daniel said, a little more serious: "I do have some questions though. Specifically about the very end. I have read it a dozen times now and still can't figure out if Aaron is actually blind or if it was always a ruse."
Harry crossed his arms, his eyes danced a little. "I will tell you if and when we release the film."
Daniel groaned. "Oh come on, you can't do that to your lead."
"I can," Harry said smoothly. "And I just did. You will perform better not knowing."
Daniel sighed dramatically. "You're maddening."
Harry smirked. "That's my profession."
Daniel flipped through his notes, changing the subject. "So Cate Blanchett. I didn't realize until Greg told me last night that she'd signed on."
Harry's posture changed, his smile fading slightly. "She… persuaded me in person," he said carefully. "She came ready, and she knew Selena better than anyone I've ever met. I couldn't refuse her."
"Well," Daniel said with a grin, "if Cate Blanchett wanted a role in my movie, I would probably not know how to refuse her either."
Harry chuckled, shaking his head. "Don't reach for it, Daniel."
They reviewed the character notes a while longer—little things about Aaron's backstory, things like how he might move, talk, or play the piano when he was alone. When Harry finally got up to leave, Daniel thanked him for the notes, already putting back on his half-blind persona as Harry cleared the door.
----
Outside it was bright and sunny on a Saturday afternoon but Harry's mind was preoccupied with other thoughts. The Oscars were less than six hours away.
Once back at his mansion in Berkeley Hills, there were various forms of organized chaos. Maria was out in the garden pruning roses, Lisa was scurrying between the bedroom and hallway, arms laden down with tuxedos, while Sparky, Harry's canine companion, was comfortably sprawled out in the middle of the living room snoring away.
Harry bent down to scratch Sparky behind the ears then nabbed one of the cookies Maria had taken out of the oven earlier that day. "You're not supposed to be eating, you're supposed to be resting before dinner," she called out without looking away from her highlights in the mirror.
"Lisa, I'm nervous," he replied, chewing into the cookie. "That's got to be enough of an excuse."
Lisa popped into the room, half of her face smiling, while the other half looked flustered. "You're nervous? You're not even nominated."
"I produced it," he replied defensively. "That's close enough."
"Close enough to steal my snack," she said as she glanced over at him.
When Lisa stepped into the dressing room door way, wearing the crisp black tie she'd placed in Harry's hands, she turned back toward the mirror. "I'm still trying to figure out what tux you are wearing, Armani or Tom Ford?"
"Whatever hides my existential dread best."
Lisa rolled her eyes. "For someone with billions, you don't enjoy them."
Harry smiled and leaned against the counter. "You should try it once in a while."
She smirked. "Oh I do. Just not with you."
He raised an eyebrow. "Is that a jab at my nonexistent love life?"
Lisa smirked wider. "More like a reminder. You spend more time with your dog than any woman alive."
"Ouch," Harry said, clutching his chest dramatically. "That was low, even for you."
"Truth is usually low."
They both laughed and the lazy rhythm of their long familiarity softened the night, taking the edge off the tension. But with Lisa still helping him straighten his collar asking quietly, "You think Memento has a shot tonight?"
Harry hesitated for a second, and then looked down at her. "Honestly, it's tough. Harvey has Gangs of New York in the running, and he's the Academy's favorite manipulator."
Lisa frowned. "So you think he's gonna win?"
"Nah, we will win."
Lisa nodded, seeming to absorb his confidence. But her next words caught him off guard. "Mrs. Jackson called again," Lisa spoke softly. "She's been calling for weeks. You didn't pick up once."
Harry's eyes hardened almost immediately. "I don't want to talk about it."
"She's your mother, Harry," Lisa replied, softly.
"She already made her choice," Harry said, turning away. "I'll make mine."
The room was quiet. Lisa looked like she wanted to argue, but she didn't. Instead, she sighed and folded his pocket square nicely. "Fine. But you know that pride can imprison you to an even lonelier existence than you're already experiencing."
Harry didn't say anything.
After a few minutes, packing up, Lisa suddenly smiled again, seeming to remember something lighter. "By the way, who's walking the red carpet with you tonight?"
"No one," Harry said flatly, as he fiddled with his cuff links.
"No one?" she asked again. "You do know you are Hollywood's most eligible bachelor, right? And walking alone will raise questions?"
"Let them ask," Harry said. "I just want to get this night over with. We start shooting soon."
Lisa shook her head and chuckled. "You really are hopeless."
-----
A shining black 1967 Mustang Fastback appeared in front of the Dolby Theatre that evening. The cameras flashed ferociously as Harry Jackson walked out in a midnight-black tuxedo, his hair slicked back and gray eyes shining. Reporters screamed questions over one another.
"Mr. Jackson! Do you think Memento will win tonight?"
"Any comment on your relationship with Harvey Weinstein?"
"Is it true Cate Blanchett is starring in your next film?"
Harry didn't respond to any of the questions, but he nodded briefly and offered a polite half-smile as he walked up the carpet. The vibe was electric—the kind of glamour only old Hollywood nights can provide.
Halfway up the stairs, an unmistakable voice interrupted him. "Harry!"
He turned to see Christopher Nolan, looking a little drained but happy in a dark tuxedo. There were lines under his eyes—lines you get when you spend a year marketing, editing, and lacking sleep.
"Chris!" said Harry as he walked to him and shook his hand. "You look like you've been through three different wars."
Nolan chuckled. "It feels like it, doesn't it? Insomnia has been good to me, but I really need about ten years to catch up on my sleep."
Harry smirked. "And congratulations, by the way. One hundred and fifty million dollars worldwide. You are officially making it."
"Thanks," Nolan replied humbly. "But tonight is about Memento, not Insomnia. Are you nervous?"
"Not really," Harry said. "If we win, great; if we lose, great. We will continue on. We are young, Chris. We will have lots more chances."
"Speaking of which," Nolan said, taking a sip of his drink, "how is that new one? A Blind Man's Gambit, right?"
Harry nodded. "We start shooting in April. If everything goes well, we are hoping for December."
"And you?"
"I am taking it easy," Nolan said, smiling tiredly. "On vacation. My wife is insisting, the Caribbean sounds incredible right now."
Harry laughed gently. "You have earned it."
Before they could say more, Greg appeared, looking slightly frantic. "There you two are! I have been looking everywhere for you. They are about to start seating and the Fox execs are waiting."
Harry handed Nolan his empty glass. "Guess we better not keep the money men waiting."
Nolan chuckled, draining the drink. "Lead the way."