Interior, luxury villa on the Amalfi Coast – night.
Rain lashes the floor-to-ceiling windows. Candlelight flickers across a long wooden table covered in script pages and empty wine glasses.
"Because the studio said I had to choose. The Oscar campaign… or the girl who wrote my best lines."
"So what now? You want a happy ending? This isn't a rom-com, Leo."
"No. It’s a second take. And in movies, second takes are where the magic happens."
She finally meets his eyes. Her hand trembles slightly as she reaches for her wine.
Silence. The rain fills the space between them.
He exhales. Not an actor’s sigh—a real one. Broken.