Scarlett Johansson was everywhere.
That was the first thing Ethan noticed when he entered the production office that morning — magazines stacked on the table, entertainment news looping on the small TV, and a giant mock-up poster for Lost in Translation hanging on the wall. Scarlett's face was the centrepiece of it all.
Her performance had become the quiet obsession of critics, journalists, and festival programmers. She was being called "the next breakout star," "the new indie darling," "a revelation."
Ethan had known it the moment he saw her on set — the rare kind of natural, lived-in performance that didn't announce itself as acting. It was the type that made people lean in.
He should have been happy for her.
He was happy for her.
But he felt something else too — a faint tightening in his chest each time someone mentioned her name with a certain awe he'd never inspired.
Not yet, anyway.
He took a seat at the far edge of the room, pretending to go through his sides, though he had long since memorised every line. The producers were discussing festival submissions. Hollywood folks came and went. Assistants hurried by with stacks of coffee.
And in the middle of it all, Scarlett walked in.
"Morning," she said, smiling when she spotted Ethan.
He felt warmth hit him instantly. "Morning."
She sat beside him, close enough that he could feel the brush of her arm against his. She looked tired — but glowing. Attention suited her, even if she didn't ask for it.
"Have you seen this yet?" she asked, sliding a magazine toward him.
A glossy page, a full spread: Scarlett Johansson — The Face of the New Hollywood.
He swallowed.
"It's amazing. You deserve it."
She tilted her head, studying him. "You okay?"
"Of course," he lied.
Scarlett's eyes narrowed, unconvinced. She knew him too well already — something that scared him in ways he couldn't articulate.
Before she could press further, Jake Gyllenhaal dropped into the seat on Ethan's other side with a half-sigh, half-laugh.
"Man, Scarlett, I can't walk two steps in this building without seeing your face," he teased.
Scarlett groaned, embarrassed. "Please stop. I hate this stuff."
"Sure you do," Jake joked, nudging her playfully. Then he glanced at Ethan. "You doing alright? You seem… quiet."
Ethan forced a smile. "Just thinking."
Jake nodded, accepting the answer but not entirely buying it. "Well, Sofia wants to run a few minutes of footage in the screening room. You should come. You look good in the dailies."
Scarlett brightened. "Yeah, Ethan — come. You haven't seen anything yet, right?"
He hadn't. Part of him wanted to. Another part was terrified.
Still, he nodded.
They followed Jake down the hallway into a small screening room. It was dark, intimate, with a faint smell of old film stock. Sofia Coppola sat near the front, going over notes with an editor. She gave them a warm smile.
"Glad you're here," she said to Ethan. "You have a very quiet presence on camera. It grounds the scenes."
Scarlett elbowed him. "See? Told you."
Ethan felt heat rise in his face. Praise never came easily in his first life. He hadn't prepared for it in this one either.
The lights dimmed.
The footage rolled.
Scarlett appeared first — wandering through a quiet hotel bar, loneliness dripping from every gesture. She was magnetic. Ethan forgot the room around him, forgot Japan, forgot the year. He simply watched her exist, the way the camera adored her.
Then Ethan appeared in the next sequence — still, observant, a grounding force in the scene. His work was subtle. Controlled. His eyes carried the weight of a man who had lived two lives.
He hadn't realised how much of himself had slipped into the performance.
The editor whispered, "He's got something."
Ethan's ears rang.
Was this real?
Was he actually… good?
When the scene ended, Scarlett leaned forward in her chair, smiling at him through the dim light.
"You're incredible, Ethan," she whispered. "You make every scene feel real."
Jake nodded. "It's true. You're doing something different. I can't describe it… But I feel it."
Ethan swallowed hard.
He had dreamed of hearing words like these.
Sofia stood, stretching. "Scarlett, you're obviously phenomenal, but Ethan — there's a purity in what you're doing. It's rare. Keep leaning into that honesty."
He nodded, overwhelmed.
The room emptied slowly. Jake left for a production meeting. The editor returned to her monitor. Sofia took a call and stepped out.
Soon, only Ethan and Scarlett remained in the quiet, darkened room.
"Talk to me," she said softly.
He hesitated.
"You're rising so fast, Scarlett. People already adore you. And I'm just…"
He let the word drift, unsure how to finish it.
She scooted closer. "You're just what?"
"Trying to keep up."
She blinked, startled.
"You think I'm leaving you behind?" Her voice was softer now. Hurt.
Ethan looked away. "Not intentionally. You're just… becoming someone huge. Someone everyone sees."
"And you think I don't see you?" she whispered.
He froze.
Scarlett's voice trembled just slightly when she added, "Ethan… you were the first person on this project who actually talked to me like a human being. Not a face. Not a headline. A person."
He exhaled shakily.
She wasn't oblivious. She wasn't drifting away.
But the gap between them — the one created by fame, attention, and Hollywood gravity — was growing whether they wanted it to or not.
Scarlett reached out and took his hand.
"You're not behind me," she murmured. "You're part of my story. Don't forget that."
He squeezed her hand back, but the ache in his chest didn't fade.
He wanted to believe her.
He hoped he could.
Outside the room, the muffled noise of producers discussing festival premieres drifted through the hallway. Scarlett Johansson's star was ascending, bright and unstoppable.
Ethan Hale watched that rising light and wondered — for the first time in his second life — whether he would one day be left standing in its shadow.
And yet, when Scarlett's thumb brushed the back of his hand in a quiet gesture of comfort, he also knew something else:
He didn't want to let her go.
Not now.
Not ever.
But Hollywood had a way of tearing apart even the strongest bonds.
Ethan just didn't know it yet.