Natalie Portman looked on enviously as Scarlett and Martin discussed Scarlett's recent movie.
It had been a long time since Natalie had acted in a film.
Now in her senior year of college, her academic workload was light, and she had started considering scripts again.
However, most scripts that landed on her desk were ones others had rejected.
The concept of "hidden gems" was elusive and rare.
There were even offers for explicit films that required full nudity.
She vividly remembered the smug expression of that independent director who approached her:
"Natalie, you're not who you used to be. You've grown up. Do you know how many child stars end up forgotten once they're older? You need an opportunity. Your role as Mathilda in Léon: The Professional left a deep impression. So why not capitalize on that image?"
"Many people still associate you with Mathilda. If we promote the film as 'Mathilda's full-nude debut,' it's guaranteed to be a hit."
"Don't you want success?"
Natalie had thrown the independent director out.
She wasn't so desperate as to rely on a risqué film for a comeback!
But good opportunities were scarce.
Her only confirmed project at the moment was a cameo in Zoolander.
A far cry from her dreams.
The three of them eventually left the café.
Scarlett had driven herself there, so after bidding farewell to Martin and Natalie, she left in her car.
Natalie also said goodbye to Martin, watching him walk toward the parking lot.
In her mind, she replayed Scarlett's mention of Martin's apartment location. Quickly, she headed west along the street.
Reaching a street Martin would have to pass on his way home, Natalie slowed her pace. She shoved her hands into her coat pockets and strolled casually.
"Notice me. You have to notice me," she kept muttering internally.
A few moments later—
Beep! Beep!
A car horn sounded behind her.
Natalie's eyes lit up momentarily before she masked her excitement and turned around.
A black Mercedes rolled up beside her, and the back window lowered to reveal Martin's smiling face.
"Taking a stroll? Not planning to head home?" he asked.
Feigning surprise, Natalie replied, "Martin? Oh, I didn't drive today. I was planning to take the subway."
"New York's subway?" Martin shook his head. "Not the best choice."
After a brief pause, and to Natalie's delight, he added, "Let me give you a ride."
Suppressing her excitement, Natalie maintained a calm demeanor. "Are you sure? I wouldn't want to inconvenience you."
"I'm free today. So… are you coming?"
Martin smiled slightly, playing along with her performance.
"In that case, thank you," she said, stopping and letting his car pull up.
Martin opened the door and scooted over to make room for her.
Once inside, Natalie thanked him politely and deliberately kept a small distance between them.
Martin, amused by her act, played along patiently.
Compared to some of the more skilled women he'd encountered, Natalie's attempts at seduction were amateurish at best.
"Where to? Your place on Long Island or a hotel?"
"Long Island," Natalie answered. "I've been staying in a hotel for convenience while rehearsing, but now that it's over, I checked out this morning."
"Got it." Martin nodded and tapped the seat in front of him. "Gordon, to Long Island."
The car turned a corner and headed toward Long Island, a roughly 90-minute drive from Manhattan.
During the ride, Natalie struck up a conversation.
The girl was undeniably intelligent—her IQ of 130 was well above average, though not genius level.
From psychology to literature to film, she left no topic untouched, while Martin matched her effortlessly. His voracious reading habits and exceptional memory made him an endless reservoir of knowledge.
The more they talked, the more astonished Natalie became.
Martin's breadth and depth of knowledge were overwhelming.
It reminded her of being outclassed by a university professor, a humbling experience.
Even the longest journey eventually ends.
The car pulled up in front of a small villa, and Natalie's nervousness became palpable.
As she reached for the door handle, she paused briefly. Though her back was turned, Martin could sense her deep breaths.
She stepped out, turned around, and mustered the most natural smile she could manage.
"Martin, I've been struggling with some acting questions. Would you like to come in for a bit?"
Her nerves were poorly concealed, her voice slightly trembling.
For a brief moment of silence, Martin didn't respond, and Natalie's face flushed red.
Her thoughts spiraled:
"Did I overstep?"
"What if he thinks I'm too forward?"
"He hasn't answered yet—oh no, this is so embarrassing!"
Just as Natalie was about to panic and retreat, Martin finally replied.
"Sure."
A single word eased her tension, but another wave of nervous anticipation surged.
Martin stepped out of the car and followed Natalie to the villa entrance.
Natalie's movements were stiff, and her blush extended to her ears and neck.
They entered the house, and Natalie fumbled with her keys before pushing the door open.
"My parents aren't home…" she began awkwardly, intending to explain further.
But before she could finish, Martin stepped forward and embraced her.
Her slender waist trembled under his hands. At this point in her life, Natalie's frame was still slight, far from the athletic build she would develop in later years.
Martin leaned in, his breath brushing past her ear as he kissed her softly.
Natalie's entire face turned crimson, her body rigid with tension.
She attempted a half-hearted escape from his grasp, but Martin chuckled softly.
"You don't want this?" he teased.
Natalie froze briefly before wrapping her arms around his neck, her kiss growing more fervent, releasing pent-up emotions.
"Bedroom… take me to the bedroom," she murmured between breaths.
Martin obliged, lifting her effortlessly and carrying her toward the bedroom.
As the door closed behind them, the night deepened, and the boundaries blurred.