The first step was to win a regional competition to become a model, using her mother's last name, her long legs white as cotton flakes. She was a seventeen-year-old girl with her mother's consent, an education that surpassed any average, fluent in four languages, able to play the piano and the violin, and knowledgeable in any subject that went beyond school into introductory university-level disciplines of almost any field.
-You might like it,- her mother, Shaw,n whispered to her.
-I don't know, Mom,- Amelia whispered back, nervous about the confrontation.
-Calm down, Pocahontas Hills. It's just one step. We'll lobby for New York State next year, and you'll enter the Miss Universe circuit. I truly believe you'll go very far; you just need to win a few extra contests,- Shawn replied, stroking her daughter's hair with a tenderness that had been visible for days.
-You have at least seven years to rise to glory and find your place among the chosen. I was only a federal runner-up, but just by reaching Miss America, all the doors will open,- Shawn whispered gently.
The Miss Universe New York pageant operates like an elegant machine, every gear polished by years of tradition and ambition. It all begins with registrations, when dozens of women from different counties step forward with the dream of representing the state. They first go through preliminary interviews, where a private committee evaluates their personality, expression, and commitment to the community. The rules are simple: you must be a woman, between eighteen and twenty-six years old, work in New York for forty hours a week,ek or be enrolled as a student at a New York university.
Everything begins with the counties.
Then come the preparation phases: weeks of training in runway walking, public speaking, styling, and stage presence, while photographers capture every improvement and judges take silent notes. The big day arrives. On competition day, all the county winners gather, plus two additional contestants selected through different categories that vary each year, in a theater illuminated by a nearly ceremonial glow of spotlights.
The candidates parade in cocktail dresses, then in swimsuits, displaying confidence more than mere aesthetics, and finally in evening gowns, where each woman reveals her identity through the elegance she has chosen. As the audience holds its breath, the question round arrives, that moment when intelligence and clarity weigh more than any sparkle. When the winner is announced, her name vibrates in the air; she receives the sash and the crown as cameras ignite around her, knowing that her victory is not an ending, but the beginning of a path toward Miss USA and perhaps the entire universe.
-I'll call our stylist. He's a friend of mine, and he's the best of the best,- Shawn whispered, sending a message to one of the most famous men in fashion.
***
With the beginning of February came the season to participate in one of the films he had postponed for some time, and one he deeply wanted to be part of. Star Wars was everything the fans had been waiting for, biting their nails since last year while smaller series were released in between. The first film arrived with the story of Count Dooku and his fall to the dark side, a six-episode series released by Lux Animation, which now had a third channel growing at an unpredictable pace.
-It seems, then, that you'll have to travel to another country to get things done,- Lucas whispered, noting that some scenes needed to be filmed in that beautiful villa. Villa Balbianello, which had been purchased by Lux Animation through a small real estate firm, was now Billy's personal residence. Meanwhile, in Seville, some streets were still being used for filming. Billy could almost be called a real estate magnate of filming locations, negotiating prices, and seeking business opportunities.
-First,t we'll go to San Jose,- Lucas commented.
Billy nodded. Everything was now in the hands of what awaited him—his work and his craft in the days ahead.
-We'll see each other there,- Billy said with an affirmative gesture, returning to his kendo training for six hours a day. Closing out any remaining work contracts, Billy pushed himself relentlessly, predatory in his discipline, to improve his form. Now all that remained in his hands was coordination and the flying action scenes.
Before Lucas hung up—
-Do I have your approval?- Billy asked.
-You do. It's just that you surprise me,- Lucas replied.
-I want to make master-level action scenes, and if that requires more effort, I don't mind investing more,- Billy said.
-We're preparing another series to match the six episodes—six for Anakin and six for Obi-Wan. Twelve episodes in total, very long, costing almost as much as a movie without the advantage of a theatrical release,- Lucas answered.
-It doesn't matter. Television helps greatly with sponsorships. Just try not to lose money; winning isn't essential. When we reach the third episode, we'll make millions with a film that will build heat over six years,- Billy replied.
-How ambitious,- Lucas whispered, observing him.
-I think it's possible to add a kind of standalone film for Asajj Ventress,- Lucas murmured.
-I think the same, and I have the right woman,- Billy commented, thinking of Charlize Theron. Her blue eyes were like two stars, capable of capturing magnificent shots in any film.
Lucas hung up.
Billy took notes. All that remained was to turn this into one of the most aggressive cinematic franchises, reshaping the production model into something elegant and alive. Billy's investment was bold, aggressive even, but everything was done for the love of art. Even then, he charged little for acting roles, earning more through his companies and doubling his working hours to see something done right—a project that kept moving forward, where the good died, the bad died, and stories ended in the dark passage of a world at war among galaxies.
Three films, and a series of nearly thirty episodes, each an hour long. Hiring top-tier directors and paying high fees, with strong stars who did not act themselves. It was a reading of the plot, where the roles were the central point in every shot.
Billy sighed as he thought about the new film, heading toward San Jose, one of the largest sets in history made real—everything built, everything visible, with thousands of villas across the world, colors, businesses, and an entrance line that seemed to shrink people.
The villa lay beside a beautiful lake, where vegetation and architecture blended into an almost wondrous offering between reality and script.
...