Leon's heart stirred.
He walked over to the piano in the villa, a relic left by the previous owner, and lifted the lid.
"That vibe you were talking about," he said, his fingers tentatively playing a lively, slightly cheeky melody from memory—the iconic intro to Oops!... I Did It Again, the song that would later sweep the globe.
Britney, lounging on the couch with a bag of chips, froze mid-bite. Her ears perked up, and she sat upright, the chips forgotten.
Leon didn't sing the full song, just hummed the catchy chorus:
"Oops!... I did it again~"
"I played with your heart, got lost in the game~"
"Oh baby, baby~"
"Oops!... you think I'm in love~"
"That I'm sent from above~"
"I'm not that innocent~"
His voice couldn't match Britney's, but he nailed the song's teasing, confident, pop-fueled energy with uncanny precision.
When he finished, he turned to say something, only to find Britney staring at him, wide-eyed, like she'd just seen an alien. The chip bag slipped from her hands to the floor.
"You… you…" she stammered, practically tripping over her words as she leapt off the couch and rushed to the piano.
"What is this song? Whose is it? I've never heard it! This melody! These lyrics! Oh my God!"
"It's exactly the vibe I was imagining! Fun, confident, catchy! It's perfect!"
She grabbed his arm, shaking it urgently. "Tell me! Did you write this? Just now? Or did you hear it somewhere?"
Leon laughed at her intensity, offering a vague explanation. "Just a spark of inspiration, something I came up with based on what you said. Glad you think it works."
"Works?! It's perfect!" Britney practically shouted, her eyes gleaming with excitement and awe. "Those few lines are better than half the songs my team's pitched me! Leon, you're a genius! You write songs too?!"
The sudden surprise hit her hard. Her view of him shifted—before, he was charming, funny, a safe haven; now, she added deep admiration and disbelief to the mix.
Britney brought a whirlwind of superstar allure, youthful energy, and a hint of rebellious adventure.
When the dust settled, the air was thick with a lazy, intimate vibe.
Curled up beside Leon, Britney's face glowed with a satisfied, exhausted flush before she drifted off like a kid worn out from play.
Leon, though, stayed awake, his emotions tangled as he looked at her world-famous face.
The next morning, Britney woke him early, too eager to see what other wonders he might pull out.
At her insistence, Leon dug into his memories, humming snippets of Lucky and Stronger—classics later featured on her Oops!... I Did It Again album.
Each note sent Britney into a frenzy of delight.
She circled the piano like she'd unearthed a treasure trove, even swaying to the melodies, mouthing the catchy lyrics.
"My loneliness ain't killing me no more~"
"I'm stronger than yesterday~"
"Now it's my turn to fly~"
The more she sang, the more ecstatic she got. The songs felt tailor-made for her voice and style, hitting every aesthetic and commercial sweet spot.
"Stop, stop, Leon!" she suddenly cried, covering her ears with a dramatic grin. "If I hear any more, I might pass out from excitement! These are insane! My next album's got hope now! Oh my God, Linda's not gonna believe this!"
She launched herself at him, wrapping him in a tight, grateful hug.
The moment deepened their connection, adding a layer of shared creativity and secrets.
Over the next few days, Britney was glued to the piano, obsessing over the melody snippets, tweaking lyrics, lost in the pure joy of music, oblivious to the outside world's chaos.
Watching her focused, radiant profile, Leon felt a strange mix of pride in nudging an era forward and a bittersweet complexity he couldn't quite name.
But he let it go. Making her this happy, smoothing her path forward—that was enough.
Yet, happy times are always fleeting.
The dreamlike bubble burst one afternoon when the doorbell rang sharply, shattering the villa's calm.
Through the security monitor, Leon saw Britney's agent, Linda, looking frantic, worried, and a bit furious, flanked by two stern-faced bodyguards.
They'd clearly pulled every string to track her down.
Leon opened the door, and Linda stormed in, her eyes locking onto Britney, who was barefoot, cross-legged on the couch, eating ice cream and reading a script.
"Britney! My God! Do you know how long I've been looking for you?! Do you know how dangerous this is?"
"How many contracts and schedules got delayed or canceled because you've been 'missing'?! How could you just turn off your phone and ghost me? Do you know how worried I was?"
Linda's rapid-fire questions were laced with fear, concern, and a touch of anger at being ignored. When she spotted Leon standing calmly nearby, her frustration found a target.
"Mr. Donaldson! I have to say, this is incredibly irresponsible! Britney's still a kid, how could you—"
"Linda!" Britney cut her off, jumping off the couch. The relaxed vibe was gone, replaced by the cool authority of global superstar Britney Spears, now laced with a fierce defense of Leon.
"This isn't his fault. I asked him to bring me here. I needed a few days to myself. I turned off my phone."
"If you're gonna blame anyone, blame me. And I'm fine—better than I've been in months."
Linda faltered, caught off guard by Britney's firm, mature stance.
Britney stepped beside Leon, grabbing a few scribbled pages of lyrics and notes from the table—her work inspired by his melodies.
She shoved them into Linda's hands. "Look at these, Linda. Stop complaining and thank Leon. If it weren't for him, you wouldn't have found me this fast, and you wouldn't have these. They're worth more than any canceled schedule."
Linda took the pages, her irritation giving way to a quick scan. Her expression shifted—anger to surprise, then disbelief, and finally, wild excitement.
As a top-tier agent, she instantly saw the massive commercial potential in those melodies and lyrics.
These were the backbone of a chart-topping album.
"These… these are…" She looked from Britney to Leon, her tone completely different. "Britney, where did… this is…"
"Leon inspired me. We wrote them together," Britney said simply, pride in her voice. "Now, do you still think I was being reckless and wasting time?"
Linda was speechless, her face a kaleidoscope of emotions. Finally, she turned to Leon with a mix of gratitude and slight embarrassment.
"Mr. Donaldson, I'm sorry for what I said. This is… incredible. Thank you. Truly, thank you for everything you've done for Britney."
Her attitude did a complete 180.
"Just had a few ideas. Glad I could help," Leon replied coolly, unfazed.
"We'll sort out the copyright details with your agent," Linda added.
Leon started to wave it off, but she cut in, insisting. He sighed—classic Hollywood.
Linda took a deep breath, knowing it was time to pull Britney back to reality, but her mood had shifted entirely.
"Britney, honey, we really have to go. The rumors are flying out there. We need a press conference to set things straight, and these songs!" She waved the pages excitedly. "We need to get back to the label, round up the best producers—now!"
She carefully tucked the precious pages away.
Britney's eyes dimmed, the carefree days over.
She nodded, knowing it was time to step back into the world of "Pop Princess" Britney.
Under the watchful eyes of Linda and the bodyguards, Britney walked to Leon.
Without hesitation, she stood on her toes, cupped his face, and kissed him deeply, unapologetically—a kiss full of reluctance, gratitude, and a bold declaration, heedless of Linda's complicated expression.
When it ended, she caught her breath, her blue eyes locked on his. She made a "call me" gesture with her fingers, her lips curling into a bright, slightly mischievous smile.
"This time, you better call," she said firmly, her superstar confidence shining through.
Then she turned, slipping back into her pop icon persona, and strode out of the villa with Linda and the bodyguards, heading toward the dazzling, noisy world waiting for her.
Leon stood still, her warmth and scent lingering on his lips, the air faintly sweet with her perfume and ice cream.
He touched his pocket, where the napkin with her number, once tucked away, still sat.
This time, he knew he'd have to make that call.
Fate's gears had clicked into place with a tight grip.
And this "disappearance" would leave an unexpected mark on Britney's stardom, one inextricably tied to him.