Being praised by a director she deeply admired in her past life—even the current Laila couldn't help but feel a flicker of joy. Since he had asked, she certainly wouldn't refuse. But time was truly tight. Devising and executing a promotional plan in such a short window was no simple task.
"Give me a moment. I need to think." Frowning, she sank into thought inside the car.
Nolan had only come to her under pressure from the producers, and seeing her agree, he finally relaxed. He knew it was a bit of an unreasonable request—major promotional campaigns for big films like this usually started long before shooting began. At this late stage, close to release, only conventional methods were feasible: talk show appearances, posters plastered in high-traffic areas, and the like.
Beside her, Roy was also pondering—if it were him, what kind of promotional strategy would he devise? Over the years since Laila's debut, he had watched her repeatedly achieve massive promotional impact with minimal investment.
He didn't expect to conjure some earth-shattering idea, but even a small spark of inspiration for her would be worthwhile.
His thoughts didn't help Laila directly, but his face did trigger a flash of insight—specifically, when the car stopped at a red light, and her gaze landed on a giant billboard of Roy hanging from a department store rooftop. In the poster, he wore Burberry's latest custom-tailored outfit, exuding a smoldering allure as he gazed down at the bustling crowd below.
The ad had been up for a while, yet passersby still paused to stare.
And that gave Laila an idea...
"Why are you staring at me?" Roy had sensed her gaze the moment it landed on him. Though he knew she sometimes lost herself in his looks, this time her eyes held an unusual heat—a heat that made him want to rush her home, carry her upstairs, and indulge in all sorts of deliciously wicked things.
"Because you're beautiful," Laila blurted out, only then remembering there was a third wheel in the car.
When her eyes flicked to him, Director Nolan dutifully turned his head away, adopting an expression of serene detachment—or more accurately, no expression at all.
Roy chuckled, pulling Laila into his arms. "You're beautiful too."
With age, his voice had grown deeper and more magnetic, especially when he lowered it—enough to make Laila's ears "pregnant," as the saying went. Such a voice... wouldn't it be a waste if only she could hear it? An old, long-dormant idea resurfaced: producing an album for him.
She had her talent agency, and his agent was once Hollywood's top powerhouse. If she wrote the songs herself, finding a record label to release them would be a breeze.
Their affectionate display made Nolan, still pretending to be air beside them, think of his wife. Over the years, he'd been so busy making films that aside from his premieres, they hadn't even gone on a proper movie date.
"Nolan, after the show, help me arrange a meeting with the producers. I have an idea for promotion," Laila suddenly said.
Caught mid-thought about calling his wife, Nolan blinked before snapping back to attention. "You've already figured something out?"
"Mhm. Short timelines call for short-term strategies." A sly smile curled her lips, sending an inexplicable chill down Nolan's spine.
"What's the plan? You know they won't pour a huge budget into promotions at this stage, right?"
Laila shot him a look. "Do I strike you as the type to throw money at promotions?" Given that she had a stake in this film's profits, of course, she'd take it seriously. If not for Blood Diamond pulling her to South Africa, she would've been far more involved in promotions.
"Got it. I'll call them after the show. But... what exactly is your idea?" Nolan was genuinely curious. He'd always heard about her legendary marketing prowess, but seeing it in action was another matter.
With a faint smile, Laila reached up to cradle Roy's face. "This is my idea."
Both men froze.
"My face?"
"His face?"
"Exactly. Nolan, don't you think he's ridiculously handsome?" Laila grinned, stroking Roy's cheek like a spoiled aristocrat teasing a blushing maiden in some period drama.
Nolan's eye twitched. "The entire world knows he's handsome. Are you planning to use his looks for hype? Remember, his face isn't even visible in the film." The Joker's thick, grotesque makeup made Roy nearly unrecognizable. Without his name attached, audiences might never connect the two.
He'd seen the final cut and knew how brilliantly Roy had performed. But leveraging his boyfriend's looks for promotion? That didn't seem to fit this film's tone.
Also—why did he feel like a steaming bowl of dog food was about to be dumped on his head? Was it too late to call his wife over?
Laila leaned against Roy, amused. "Don't you think that makes it even more interesting?"
"Uh...?" Nolan's brain short-circuited. Who dared call him a genius? They needed to meet her. "What's going on? Why don't I understand?"
But Laila had no intention of explaining further. Leaving people in suspense was addictive. As the car pulled up to the TV station, she cheerfully ignored Nolan's bewildered stare and stepped out with Roy.
With no other choice, Nolan followed them inside.
At the talk show's set, the other invited cast members were already prepping backstage. Alongside the two directors, the male and female leads—and Roy—would appear.
It was a formidable lineup. While the female lead's star power paled beside the others, this film would undoubtedly elevate her career.
All of them were accustomed to the spotlight, so the recording went smoothly. Plus, this was Laila's turf—host Jimmy's notoriously sharp tongue would naturally temper itself in front of his boss, making things easier for everyone else.
Though Laila had to tread carefully with topics, Jimmy still mined plenty of audience-baiting questions.
Like—why had she taken on this film? A DC superhero movie, a sequel (which she never did)—what made her say yes?