Dreams of Stardom (Hollywood SI)

"Gryffindor wins!" a male voice announced over the loudspeakers. "Four hundred and fifty to one hundred and forty!"

I was handed the Quidditch Cup by Madam Hooch because I was the captain of the team.

"We won the Quidditch Cup!" Jamie as Ron yelled excitedly, hugging me like his life depended on it. We were both in our full Quidditch gear, soaking wet from head to toe. Our brooms lay forgotten on the ground, just like the rest of the team's. It was meant to be raining lightly during the game, but it had intensified by the time it concluded.

I had a huge grin plastered on my face as I hugged him back. The entire Gryffindor house seemed to have come down to the field to celebrate, not caring about getting wet. After handing the cup to Jamie, I hugged other teammates as well, until there was just one person left.

Imogen and I locked eyes for a moment. The fierceness with which she had played the game had melted me, and I knew right then and there that this was the girl for me.

Without a second thought, I walked over to her, only to realize she was walking toward me too. We raced toward each other, finally bridging the gap, and hugged. That hug was everything I needed and more. Yet, I wasn't satisfied. I pulled back, but only for a moment, before kissing her right then and there on the lips, with tens of people witnessing the scene. I didn't care about them—or the fake rain hitting us from above.

That kiss was everything I had imagined it to be. It was fierce yet tender, warm yet chilly because of the rain. After a few moments, I ended the kiss and hugged her again as we both grinned like crazy. Everyone around us had started catcalling and shouting as I sought out my friends for their implicit or explicit approval.

The actors playing Dean Thomas and Romilda Vane looked downright pissed at the revelation. Emma Watson, as Hermione, was beaming, but my eyes sought out the one person I needed to see the most. Jamie stood right beside Emma with a complicated expression on his face, but only for a second, before he inclined his head in acceptance. My grin widened—if that was even possible—and I scooped up Imogen in my arms. She squealed in delight as I kissed her again, and the wolf whistles grew significantly louder.

"Cut!" Rian Johnson called out for what felt like the hundredth time. "That's exactly what I wanted, guys. This was cinematic perfection—great passion and romance in just the right amounts. Great job!"

I let go of Imogen and stepped back for good measure. It's always a little weird kissing someone for a scene, especially someone like Imogen, whom I'd known since we were kids. Sure, I'd been in a relationship with Emma as well, and this was the biggest reason we couldn't move past kissing. A small part of me felt as if I had taken unfair advantage of her.

I had lost count of the number of girls I'd kissed ever since my first on-screen kiss with Léa Seydoux in [Goblet of Fire], but each one had been quite different and unique. Rian Johnson had wanted something cinematic and picturesque for Harry and Ginny's first kiss. That's why he had the great idea to change the plot slightly, with Rowling's permission, of course.

In the book, Harry was serving detention with Snape and couldn't participate in the match. It's excellent for character development but terrible from the movie's point of view. So, Rian, Eric Roth, and Dad had altered it so that Harry was also part of the team as the captain, and that's where his relationship with Ginny began. Their first kiss was shot in the rain, making it more romantic—or so Rian thought.

Kissing in the rain might seem magical in films like [Spider-Man] or [The Notebook], but in reality, it's awful. You're wet, cold, and just want it to end so you can change into something warm and cozy.

As soon as Rian approved the scene and the water was cut off, I peeled off the top half of my Quidditch uniform. Two crew members immediately ran up with warm, dry towels. I quickly dried my upper body before turning to Imogen, who was already wrapped in a towel herself—though, for obvious reasons, she hadn't removed her clothes. Not to be sexist, but sometimes, being a guy is so much better and convenient.

"How was I?" Imogen asked conversationally.

"You were good," I said with a smile. "So much better than some of the other girls I've kissed."

"Oh?" she asked with a grin. "Even better than Rihanna?"

"Nah," I denied immediately. "I haven't found a better kisser than Rihanna. She's simply the best, no offense."

"Is that so, Troy?" asked a female voice, feigning innocence.

I turned around to see Emma Watson.

"I didn't know that either, Troy," Rihanna chimed in this time. "I'm glad to know it, but you could've told that to me personally."

Rihanna had arrived in London just today while we were shooting. She planned to stay here with me for the next ten days or so before we flew together—along with my family—for the Oscars.

I glanced between Emma, Imogen, and Rihanna: my ex-girlfriend, my on-screen girlfriend, and my fake girlfriend. All in the same frame with me. For some guys, this might be a dream come true—being surrounded by three beautiful girls—but I knew it was nothing but trouble. I needed to get out of this situation fast.

"I need a hot shower," I announced. "I'm cold, and from the shivering I can see, so are you, Emma and Imogen. At least change into something warm before you catch a cold or something."

I turned to Rihanna and took her hand. "Come on, Ri. Let's go to my trailer. It has a bathroom installed, too."

Then I led her away, leaving behind a blushing Imogen and an irritated-looking Emma. Something about the whole situation felt off, as if I were missing a crucial detail. When we were just outside my trailer, I turned to Rihanna, noticing she seemed flustered too.

"Everything okay, Rihanna?" I asked.

"You're a dumbass," she said, shaking her head. "Forget it."

"What?" I pressed as we stepped inside the trailer. 

She sighed but didn't elaborate, brushing it off again with, "Just leave it be."

As soon as the door was closed, without waiting for Rihanna to turn around, I stripped off the rest of my clothes as well. I had nothing to hide, especially from her, so I didn't care if she saw me in the buff. 

True to form, she only raised an eyebrow and shook her head. "You're impossible," she muttered, but there was a eager edge to her tone as she feasted on my body with her eyes.

"I'll be back before you know it," I said, heading to the bathroom.

Once inside the tiny space, I turned on the shower, yelping when the water came out scalding hot. I fiddled with the knob until it reached the perfect temperature, letting the warm water cascade over me.

I was lost in the soothing heat when I felt fingers gently trailing down my back. I turned around before Rihanna could grab my ass, only to see her in a similar state of dress as me. I grinned with excitement before pulling her inside and planting a firm kiss on her lips. The place was very cramped, because it wasn't made for two people, but we managed somehow. Our hands roamed each other's bodies from top to bottom, everywhere imaginable. My tongue met hers in a fiery display of affection, as her body pressed against mine. 

This kiss under the rain was nothing like the one I'd filmed earlier. It wasn't about cinematic perfection or dramatic effect; it was real, with someone I truly cared about. It helped that the water was the perfect temperature in this cold weather.

Then Rihanna separated from me and went down on her knees. "I wanted to thank you properly for the birthday gift that you gave me." I closed my eyes in pleasure as she chose to use her mouth for other purposes than talking.

(Break)

"Troy!" Tobias banged on the locked door of my trailer again. "At least let me know you're okay."

Rihanna lifted her head from my bare chest and shot a glare toward the door. "Go away, Tobias. We're fine!" The banging stopped immediately.

I chuckled, trailing a finger down her back. "You just had to ruin it. Half the fun was making him squirm, not knowing what's going on or who's in here with me."

She turned to me sharply, her brow arched. "How many girls have been in here with you?"

The realization of my careless remark hit me instantly. Although no other girl had been in here, I needed to clarify before she misunderstood.

"We're not exclusive, Rihanna," I said, keeping my tone steady and soft. "Don't forget, you live in Los Angeles while I'm here in London. I thought we had an understanding."

"I…" Rihanna hesitated, her expression softening.

I cupped her face gently, pressing a kiss to her temple. "We can end this arrangement whenever you want. You don't owe me anything."

Even as I said the words, I knew I didn't want it to end. Sure, I wasn't the perfect man—It's hard to be when girls are literally throwing themselves at you—but Rihanna was different. She wasn't like anyone else I had ever been with.

"No," she said firmly, cutting through my thoughts. "I don't want this to end. Not at all. But I don't want to be in a fake relationship anymore either. Honestly, I don't think this has been fake for quite some time."

She wasn't entirely wrong. We talked nearly every day, sharing everything significant in our lives. When we were together, it wasn't just about the passion—it was about connection as well. I genuinely enjoyed her company a lot beyond the sex. But the geographical distance between us was a glaring obstacle.

I stayed quiet, the words stuck somewhere between my brain and my tongue. Sensing my hesitation, Rihanna snuggled closer, her voice softening.

"Today," she began, "when I saw you kissing Imogen, I felt bad. I didn't want to see you with her. Or with anyone else. But I know that's your job, and I can't be mad at you for it."

After a moment of silence, she continued, "How about we make a pact? When I'm in another city, you can do whatever you want with whoever you want, as long as I don't hear about it. But when we're together, you're completely mine."

I frowned. "I can't do that to you. You deserve better than that. I don't mind a real relationship, but—"

"No buts," she interrupted, her tone resolute. "I know you're young, rich, and too good-looking for your own good. Keeping girls away from you would be impossible unless I'm here all the time. And I love my career too much to give it all up just to be arm candy by your side."

I didn't speak for a few moments, letting her words sink in. This was every guy's dream—a free pass from your girlfriend to be with whoever you wanted while apart. But at the same time, I couldn't ignore how morally questionable it was.

"We'll need to set some rules if we're going to do this," I said finally, breaking the silence after weighing the situation in my mind.

"Of course," Rihanna nodded against my chest confidently before sitting up on the couch we had been using for our extracurricular activities. "I've already thought of everything. First of all, the obvious one—you can't form any attachment to any other girl. No dates, no emotional connections, and definitely no meaningful, super-expensive gifts like that car you gave me."

"Done," I agreed easily. "What else?"

"Don't talk to me about any other girl, and do your best to hide it from me," she added. That one was pretty straightforward and didn't even need saying.

"Go on," I prompted.

"Finally, if you're ever caught by the media or anyone else, I'll immediately announce that we broke up some time ago. That way, we avoid all the speculation about you cheating on me."

I couldn't help but admire how thoroughly she had thought this through. Rihanna had covered every angle, ensuring we wouldn't get caught up in unnecessary drama. There was just one thing I needed clarity on.

"What about you?" I asked. "Would you also be with someone else when we're not together?"

"No," she replied vehemently. "I'm happy with the way my life is right now and have no intention of complicating it. I'm only giving you this option so you don't blame me for holding back your sex life."

I sat up, pulling her into a tight hug. "I accept, girlfriend," I said with a grin before releasing her and leaning in for a kiss.

As we went for another round of lovemaking, only one thought lingered in my mind: she was too good for this, and despite everything she'd offered, I had no intention of being with anyone else—even when she wasn't around.

(Break)

"Today, we are live from the red carpet of the 78th Academy Awards," a stunning woman announced with a bright smile. "I'm Vanessa Lachey, and stay tuned as we meet more celebrities here on the red carpet. We just spoke with the cast of [Brokeback Mountain]—Heath Ledger, Michelle Williams, Jake Gyllenhaal, and Anne Hathaway. Let's see who's next to grace us with their presence."

Vanessa turned to greet the next arrival, and her excitement was quite visible when she saw none other than George Clooney. Tonight, he was a triple nominee: writer, director, and actor.

As soon as she caught sight of him, Vanessa let out an uncharacteristic squeal, momentarily breaking her polished demeanor.

"Oh my God! I'm such a huge fan!" she gushed, her enthusiasm unmistakable.

"Thank you," George said warmly, flashing his signature grin as he leaned in for a brief hug.

Vanessa took a deep breath to steady herself, then continued. "You're the favorite to win at least one Oscar tonight out of your three nominations."

"That's a lie," George replied with a chuckle. "There's only one person guaranteed to win an Oscar tonight, and it's not me."

Vanessa's eyes sparkled as she picked up on his hint. "Have you met Troy?"

"Oh, not really," George said thoughtfully. "Nothing worth mentioning, anyway. I think he was 11 or 12 at the time. I congratulated him briefly because he was so good in [The Sixth Sense] and [Billy Elliot]. I doubt he'd even remember meeting me."

"I'm sure he would—"

Before Vanessa could finish, a wave of noise erupted near the start of the red carpet. The sound was unmistakable—a collective squeal, primarily from the female fans in attendance, followed by a frenzy of camera clicks.

"Wanna make a bet?" George asked with a confident smirk. "I'm betting that's the boy wonder we ere talking about just now."

"That's a losing bet," Vanessa said with a knowing grin. "No other teen idol is nominated tonight, so obviously it's him. I think you should wait for him here so you can finally meet him properly."

Clooney looked intrigued for a moment before shaking his head, "Nah, I don't wanna take away his thunder tonight."

He looked ready to head inside the theater, but before he could, the boy in question walked up the red carpet, right where Clooney and Vanessa were standing.

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