AN: Held the top 16-17 ranking last week. Let's aim for the top 10 this week. So, do help out with the powerstones.
Words: 2.6k
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[Living Room]
Alex plopped onto the couch, remote in hand, as the TV flickered to life. Scarlett curled up beside him, still holding the ice cream carton as the opening credits of Æon Flux rolled across the screen.
She raised a brow. "Seriously? This is what we're watching?"
Alex smirked. "Oh, absolutely. If we're committing to bad cinema, we're going all in."
Scarlett sighed, taking another bite of ice cream. "You know this movie tanked, right?"
Alex scoffed. "Oh, I'm well aware. Budget was, what, $55 million?"
"More like $62 million."
"Even worse." He shook his head. "And it didn't even make its money back. That's when you know it's bad."
Scarlett stretched her legs across the couch, settling in. "Poor Charlize. She was on fire before this."
Alex nodded, his eyes still on the screen as a futuristic cityscape appeared. "Yeah, that was the problem. She was too hot. Like, early 2000s, she could do no wrong—every film she touched was a hit. The Italian Job, Monster, The Cider House Rules, The Devil's Advocate… every single one either made money or got her critical praise."
Scarlett hummed in agreement. "Then boom. Suddenly, every studio wanted her in their film."
Alex pointed at the screen as Theron, dressed in black, flipped acrobatically through a laser-riddled hallway. "And she took them all. That was the mistake. Instead of being picky, she said yes to everything, thinking she could keep the momentum."
Scarlett exhaled, shaking her head. "Back-to-back hits had her feeling invincible."
Alex gave a side nod. "Until Æon Flux reminded her that nobody is."
Scarlett winced as one of the movie's awkward CGI action sequences played out. "Yikes."
He chuckled. "Right? And it's not even her fault. Charlize did what she could, but the script? Trash. The direction? A mess. Even the visuals feel like they were made by someone who just discovered green screens."
Scarlett watched the screen, shaking her head. "You ever notice how careers in Hollywood can nosedive so fast?"
He shrugged. "That's the game. One minute, you're winning Oscars, and the next, you're starring in flops back to back."
She glanced at him. "Happened to you?"
"Nope. Never," Alex told her the truth. "I produce and direct the movies I mainly write and sometimes choose unique pieces from thousands of scripts that keep flooding daily. That's why they call me the Hollywood's Golden Boy. I never miss. Wait! That sounds like bragging about my success." He gave her a guilty smile. "I don't mean to brag. It's never a good sign. I'm just really proud of all the work I've been able to do. I love my job."
Scarlett smiled. "Don't get me wrong. You should be proud. It's not easy being one of the top in your field. Just look at how far you've come in a short time. Your success is nothing but your hard work and dedication paying off. So, it's your right to brag a little. But don't do it in the public or in front of media."
"So, you want me to brag before you, huh? Exclusive bragging partners?" He extended his hand, "Deal?"
She smiled, holding his hand. "Deal."
Alex leaned back against the couch, eyes still on the screen, but his focus was starting to drift. He twirled the spoon between his fingers before casually asking, "So, what about you? Got anything lined up?"
Scarlett scooped another bite of ice cream, considering. "I've had a few offers since Lost in Translation wrapped. Seems like your golden touch is rubbing off on me."
Alex smirked. "As it should. What kind of offers?"
She exhaled, sinking deeper into the cushions. "Nothing great, honestly. A couple of generic rom-coms, some forgettable action flicks… the usual stuff Hollywood throws at young actresses who just had a breakout role."
Alex made a face. "Let me guess... love interest with no real character development?"
"Bingo." She rolled her eyes. "Or the 'quirky but beautiful' girl who fixes some emotionally unavailable guy. Riveting storytelling."
Alex shook his head. "I hate that. You deserve better scripts."
Scarlett asked. "Yeah? You got something better? I mean, other than that Mission Impossible role, which let's be honest a long way to go. Wait! Now I sound like one of those girls, you know... Spending time with the director or producers and seducing them for a role. Oh my God, this is worse, isn't it? I am not like that, you know? It just... Or, am I? Eh?!"
She groaned, covering her face.
"Ugh, that came out so wrong."
Alex, of course, was having way too much fun with this. He leaned forward, eyes wide with faux shock. "Scarlett Johansson... are you thinking of seducing me for a role?"
She shot him a glare. "Oh, shut up."
He gasped, placing a dramatic hand over his heart. "I feel so used. Is this all I am to you? A stepping stone in your career? A disposable Hollywood Golden Boy?"
Scarlett rolled her eyes, laughing despite herself. "You're the worst."
Alex smirked, clearly enjoying himself. "You know, I should start a support group. 'Directors Who Have Been Seduced for Roles.'" He stroked his chin, pretending to think. "Though, I think it'd just be me and Spielberg at first. Maybe Scorsese if we're lucky."
Scarlett snatched the empty ice cream tub from his hands. "Okay, that's enough out of you."
Alex grinned as she stood up and marched toward the kitchen to toss the container. "Hey, I'm just saying, if you wanted a part that badly, you could've at least bought me lunch first."
She pointed at him without looking back. "Keep talking, and I will throw this spoon at you."
Alex chuckled, standing up and stretching. "Alright, alright. Truce." He grabbed the ice cream carton from her and placed it in the trash. "But since we're on the topic of better scripts…"
Scarlett arched a brow. "Oh no. What now?"
Alex ignored her and strolled toward his office. "Be right back."
She watched him disappear down the hall, shaking her head. "What are you up to?"
...
Alex went to his office, flicking on the light. His workspace was a mess as usual. Scripts stacked on one side, notes scattered across the desk, and a few sketches pinned to a corkboard. He hadn't entered that place in months. There was dust everywhere.
"Where are you?"
His eyes went straight to the bottom shelf of his bookcase.
"Ah! There you are."
There it was.
A thick, slightly worn script binder labeled ALIEN in bold black letters.
He hadn't looked at it in two years.
Back when he first wrote it, studios weren't exactly rushing to make dark, claustrophobic sci-fi horror. They wanted simple action involving humans, not a slow-burn thriller about a terrifying, unknown creature picking off a crew one by one.
Well, he thought of making it on his own, but technology two years ago wasn't that good to bring his vision to life. So, he decided to wait. But now, it might just be possible.
Grabbing the script, he headed back to the living room, flipping through the first few pages as he walked.
...
Scarlett was lounging on the couch, absentmindedly flipping through channels. She couldn't watch that disaster anymore. When Alex reappeared, script in hand, she eyed him suspiciously.
"What's that?"
Alex smirked, waving the binder. "Your next movie."
She snorted. "Oh, so now you're offering me a role? How the tables have turned."
Alex flopped onto the couch beside her, flipping the script open. "What can I say? I'm a generous man."
She raised a brow. "And this generosity has nothing to do with me accidentally offering to seduce you for a role?"
He gasped dramatically. "Scarlett Johansson! I am offended by that implication."
She chuckled. "Uh-huh. Sure you are."
Alex ignored her, tapping the script. "This is different. This isn't some forgettable rom-com where you play 'Woman Who Laughs in Coffee Shop.' This is a real movie."
Scarlett leaned in, glancing at the title. "Alien? Sounds... vague."
"Oh, it's not vague. It's perfect. It's horror, it's sci-fi, it's psychological. It's got tension, mystery, a terrifying creature lurking in the shadows."
She narrowed her eyes. "So… it's about an alien?"
"Technically, yeah, but it's not your typical 'little green men' alien. It's something way worse. Something the crew doesn't understand. Something that..."
"...eats people?"
Alex paused. "Well… Nope. That's the fun part."
Scarlett shook her head, amused. "Ok. So, let me guess, I play the alien?"
He scoffed. "No! You play the lead. The badass. The one who fights back when everyone else is losing their minds."
Scarlett gave him a skeptical look. "I don't know… I don't really scream 'badass action hero.'"
Alex smirked. "That's the best part. Neither does the character, at first. She's just part of the crew. Normal, smart, capable, but not some trained killer. Then, when things go south, she becomes the hero... More like just trying to survive."
Scarlett tilted her head, thinking. "…Okay, that's kinda cool."
Alex nodded. "Exactly. It's not just some dumb monster flick. It's survival, it's suspense, it's..."
"...me running down dark hallways, screaming while something chases me?"
He hesitated. "I mean… yes, but in a dignified way. Minus the screaming part. Though there are some. Those Aliens got insane sense. So, screaming will only lower your survival chances."
She burst out laughing. "Wow. You're really selling it."
Alex grinned. "Look, just read the first ten pages. If you don't love it, I'll never bring it up again."
Scarlett gave him a long look, then sighed. "Fine. But if this turns into me wrestling a slimy tentacle monster in a tight spacesuit, I'm out."
Alex snapped his fingers. "Damn. Gotta rewrite that scene now."
She grabbed a pillow and smacked him with it.
He laughed. "Hey! That's assault, Johansson!"
"File a complaint," she shot back, flipping open the script.
Alex watched as she started reading, a satisfied smirk on his face. He knew he had her.
...
Scarlett flipped open the script, skimming the first few pages. Alex watched her, arms crossed, a smug look on his face. He knew exactly when she'd hit the part that would hook her.
And there it was.
Her eyes slowed as she read. Then, she frowned. Then, her brows shot up.
"What the hell is a facehugger?"
Alex grinned. "Keep reading."
She did. For about ten more seconds. Then she made a face. "Oh hell no."
She turned the page and saw the first sketch—an eerie, spidery creature with long, bony fingers and a tail curled like a noose.
"Oh my God, this thing is disgusting."
Alex leaned in, flipping to the next page. "Wait till you see..."
Scarlett gasped, slapping the scriptbook shut. "Nope. Nope. Absolutely not."
Alex was dying. "C'mon! You didn't even look at the big guy yet!"
She held the script up like a shield. "If that tiny thing is already nightmare fuel, I do not need to see its dad."
Alex, of course, ignored her and casually flipped to the next page.
The Xenomorph.
Seven feet tall. Elongated skull. No eyes. A razor-sharp, drooling jaw with a second mouth inside.
She stared at it in horror. "…You need therapy."
Alex laughed. "It's terrifying, right?"
"It's gross," she corrected. "Who even thinks of something like this?"
He pointed at himself proudly. "Me, that's who."
Scarlett groaned, shaking her head. "And I'm supposed to fight that thing?"
"You don't just fight it," Alex said, flipping back to the script. "You survive it. Ripley, your character, isn't some action hero. She's not even the captain. She's just a crewmember, trying to make it out alive while everyone else gets picked off one by one."
Scarlett scanned another page. "Okay, but why does it want to kill us?"
Alex shrugged. "Who knows?"
She blinked. "Wait, so there's no reason?"
"Nope." He grinned. "That's the scariest part. It's not a villain with a tragic backstory. It doesn't monologue. It doesn't care about you. It's just… death. A perfect, unfeeling, unstoppable predator."
Scarlett exhaled, staring at the sketch again. "...Okay, that is creepy."
Alex sat back, triumphant. "Told you."
Scarlett chewed her lip, flipping through more pages. The story was tight. The tension was brutal. The horror? Relentless.
And Ripley…
She kinda liked Ripley.
"…Fine," she muttered. "I'll admit, this is actually good. New..."
Alex smirked. "And?"
She sighed. "And I might be interested."
His smirk widened. "Say it."
She rolled her eyes. "I want the role, okay?"
Alex leaned back, grinning like he'd just won an Oscar. "Oh, that's music to my ears."
Scarlett pointed at him, narrowing her eyes. "But if I find out you wrote this whole script just to trick me into starring in your weird space horror fantasy."
He raised his hands in mock innocence. "Hey, I wrote this before I even met you! You just happen to be the perfect fit."
She crossed her arms. "Mm-hmm. Convenient."
Alex chuckled, flipping the script shut. "So, you're in?"
She sighed, pretending to think. "…I want to read the whole thing first."
"Fair." He handed it over. "But you're gonna love it."
Scarlett took the binder, eyeing it like it might bite her. "If I start having nightmares, I'm billing you for my therapy."
"Totally worth it."
She shook her head, flipping to the next page. "You're insane, you know that?"
"And you're about to be in the best sci-fi horror movie ever made," he shot back.
...
As the night stretched on, Alex realized just how late it had gotten. Scarlett was still flipping through the script, curled up on the couch, her eyes scanning each page with deep concentration.
He stretched, glancing at the clock. "You're staying over."
Scarlett looked up, raising a brow. "Oh, am I?"
He smirked. "Unless you wanna drive home at..." he checked the time again, "...almost 2 AM. You can take one of my cars."
She groaned, rubbing her face. "Ugh. Fine. But only because I don't trust myself not to fall asleep at the wheel."
Alex pushed himself off the couch. "Come on. I'll set up the guest room."
She followed him down the hall as he flicked on the light to the second bedroom. It wasn't anything fancy, just a neatly made bed, a dresser, and a window overlooking the city.
He walked over, pulling back the sheets. "Clean sheets, extra blankets in the closet, the bathroom is down the hall."
Scarlett leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed. "Wow. Almost like you've done this before."
Alex gave a slight nod. "I'm a great host. What can I say?"
She chuckled. "I appreciate it."
"No problem." He turned back to her. "And hey, thanks for trusting me with this."
She gave him a small smile. "Are you kidding? Thank you for giving me another shot at something great." She paused, then added, "I mean, assuming this movie doesn't completely traumatize me."
Alex laughed. "No promises."
Scarlett smirked. "You're the worst."
"I try."
She sighed, glancing at the script still in her hands. "Well, goodnight, Hollywood's Golden Boy."
Alex grinned. "Goodnight, soon-to-be Sci-Fi Queen."
Scarlett rolled her eyes but smiled as she shut the door behind her.
Alex stood there for a moment, smiling to himself before walking toward his room.
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[7 advance chs] + [7 chs of Two and a Half Men: Waking up as Charlie Harper] [All chs available for all tiers]