Chapter 79: Dreams and Reality

Miranda dreamed a vivid, beautiful dream.

In her dream, she and Martin were married, enjoying their honeymoon aboard a grand cruise ship. The joy was palpable as they laughed and explored the ship together. But the bliss turned tragic when the cruise struck an iceberg, leaving them trapped in their cabin.

Martin, heroic and unwavering, refused to abandon her. He fought through obstacles to rescue her, and when they finally reached the deck, the lifeboats were already gone.

From somewhere, Martin found a wooden board. Holding her close, he leapt into the icy sea. However, the board could not support them both and began to sink.

"Miranda," Martin said firmly, his voice filled with resolve. "You must survive. Live a long, full life. Have children, grow old, and pass peacefully in a warm bed—not here, not like this."

As he prepared to leave the board to save her, Miranda clung to him desperately.

"I'm not Ruth," she cried. "And I won't let my Jack leave me. If we go, we go together!"

She held him tightly, so tightly that it hurt. Her chest ached... no, it really hurt.

Miranda's eyes flew open. The dream faded as she stared at the familiar face beside her.

"Martin! You're alive!" she exclaimed, her voice still tinged with dreamlike panic.

Martin stirred, his eyes blinking open. Miranda froze, realizing she had spoken aloud.

The events of the previous night rushed back—her playful quarrel with Martin, his storytelling, and finally, falling asleep with her head resting on his arm. A surge of panic washed over her as she lifted the quilt to check beneath it.

Thankfully, Martin was still fully clothed.

When she looked back up, she found him watching her with a teasing smile.

"Ah!" she yelped, pulling the blanket over her head like an ostrich. "Get out, now!"

"If someone finds me here, they'll think something happened!" she added, her voice muffled by the quilt.

Martin chuckled, sitting up and stretching. "Fine, fine," he said, standing and heading for the door. He paused only to grab the "Little Golden Man" trophy that had been left on the nightstand.

As he exited, Miranda peeked out from under the covers, grumbling. "Is it really so embarrassing for something to happen with me?!"

Back in his own room, Martin stretched his arms, wincing at the soreness from being held all night. After a quick change, he climbed into bed, ready to catch up on sleep.

But before he could drift off, his mother's voice called out from downstairs.

"Martin! Breakfast is ready, and Uncle Frank and Aunt Chris are leaving soon. Come say goodbye to them and Miranda!"

"Coming!" he groaned, reluctantly getting up.

At the breakfast table, Miranda sat quietly, sipping milk and nibbling on a sandwich. She glanced up as Martin entered, her cheeks flushing red as she quickly looked away.

Martin, of course, couldn't resist. He slid into the seat across from her with a mischievous grin. "Good morning, Miss Miranda. Did you sleep well last night? You jump, I jump?"

Her eyes widened in shock. "How does he know?!"

"Did I talk in my sleep?" she whispered, her face heating further.

"Not a word," Martin replied smoothly, accepting a plate from Mrs. Aranda. He added with a smirk, "But thanks for the cuddles. Aside from my sore arm, I slept great."

Miranda glared at him, recovering her composure. "Oh? Well, I had a fantastic pillow. Very comfortable."

Uncle Frank, observing the exchange, glanced between the two with suspicion. "Miranda, did something happen between you and Martin?"

"What? No, of course not!" Miranda replied smoothly, her expression innocent.

After bidding farewell to Frank, Chris, and Miranda, Martin picked up a newspaper left on the table.

The headlines were ablaze with post-Oscar commentary. The media had turned its focus on the controversial wins of Shakespeare in Love, especially over heavyweights like Saving Private Ryan and The Sixth Sense.

"Most undeserved Best Actress win in years," one article proclaimed, criticizing Gwyneth Paltrow's performance.

The Los Angeles Times bluntly questioned the judges' decisions: "How does the uninspired script of Shakespeare in Love outmatch the masterful storytelling of The Sixth Sense? Its score was groundbreaking, yet ignored. This reeks of politics."

The New York Times echoed the sentiment: "Mediocrity triumphed over brilliance. Martin's contributions to The Sixth Sense were undeniable—overshadowed only by the Oscars' love affair with period dramas."

Martin couldn't suppress a satisfied laugh. It was refreshing to see the industry rally behind his work, even if it came in the form of criticism for others.

He skimmed further. The backlash extended to Shakespeare in Love winning Best Picture, defeating Spielberg's Saving Private Ryan.

The Washington Daily wrote: "Historical dramas have their merits, but comparing Shakespeare in Love to masterpieces like Saving Private Ryan or The Truman Show is a disservice. It's not even in the same league."

Martin set the paper down, his grin widening. Hollywood's politics might be frustrating, but seeing his own work validated—even indirectly—was immensely satisfying.

[•———•——•———•]

𝙥𝗮𝙩𝙧𝙚𝙤𝙣(.)𝙘𝙤𝙢/𝙂𝙤𝙙𝙊𝙛𝙍𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧

✨ • 𝗘𝘅𝗰𝗹𝘂𝘀𝗶𝘃𝗲 𝗔𝗰𝗰𝗲𝘀𝘀: 𝙂𝙚𝙩 𝟲𝟬+ 𝙖𝙙𝙫𝙖𝙣𝙘𝙚𝙙 𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙥𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙨 𝙖𝙝𝙚𝙖𝙙 𝙤𝙛 𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙧𝙮𝙤𝙣𝙚 𝙚𝙡𝙨𝙚.