I was expecting to see you a little earlier"—those were the words slipping from Billy's mouth before being interrupted by Anne's heated kiss, a kiss that seemed born of pure desperation after the abusive schedule she had been carrying. A workload, a passion that no longer fueled her day after day in those long office hours. For months now, her body had seemed to ache with desire, after endless days of headaches that burned and chewed at her patience. She needed to explode, she needed hard, passionate sex, long showers and endless romances. She needed a taste in her soul that would give her the perfect sense that everything fell back into place once she released what she carried inside.
-How naïve of me,- Anne replied, jumping into his arms, surrendering herself to a physique that grew more muscular each day, never repetitive, never gentle in the way it took her. Billy's kisses lifted her into a space that had been marked for months. She let go of her entire corporate façade. She allowed her thoughts to drift away from contracts, profiles, taxes, meetings, PDFs, licenses, and legal compliance.
-She stopped thinking,- Billy whispered, stripping her of her clothes: an oversized white sweatshirt that hung loosely on her frame, a brown skirt that reached below her knees, and a white blouse with black buttons. Beneath it all, luxurious lingerie—of the kind well-bred young ladies were never supposed to wear. She wore a green top with small openings over her nipples, sheer fabric. Billy had new muscles; he had perhaps grown an extra centimeter in height. He pressed his body against hers, a nearly blossoming reality.
Billy kissed her lips forcefully, bit her neck, lifted her in his arms. With strength, without diminishing his presence, she always seemed so delicate and submissive when she was in his grasp. She clung to him, swallowed each of her muffled moans, unable to hold his gaze. Whatever he told her, she did. She never stopped surrendering herself; she needed to be compelled at every moment to let go completely.
A dizziness washed over her, mind and soul alike. Everything felt clean. He kissed her skin with urgency, caressed every inch, undressed each feature of her—it was exactly what he had been waiting for. Her skin, tanned in the wrong places, the naturalness of her body, reminded him of another life.
For Billy, every time he was with Anne, he felt part of an older life, when money was scarce and he was not so handsome, when nothing truly held together. Anne was so innocent in her movements, nothing calculated, nothing overtly sexual. She was someone who barely knew how to play at deception that pretended to be genuine.
-Everything okay at work?- Billy sighed.
-Shut up,- Anne whispered, now flushed with heat, endlessly spent, unfit for anything else.
-How hard it is,- Anne said. -It feels like all I want now is another vacation, long ones where I don't have so much to do.-
-You can take them with me,- Billy whispered, tightening his hold on her. She settled against his chest; her eyes nearly closed.
Now they touched a shared space.
Anne smiled at what remained. A tender, epic life.
***
Ewan McGregor was performing a kind of dance, his lightsabers moving from side to side, training relentlessly, pushed by a demanding coach who drove him to a fervent limit ever since he had been chosen for one of the most recognizable roles in the history of cinema—a role that transcended personality or momentary joy.
-Wow,- Ewan finally said. There was no situation, no fleeting instant, where the sensation of being a swordsman felt so equal. The reviews of the first film had been good, especially regarding the action; wielding lightsabers with force was perhaps the defining identity of the player.
-The action scenes aren't that important,- replied a distant Count Dooku, exhausted from running through the motions at an older age. Yet Lucas's idea of putting everything in fast motion was simply marvelous, in its own way. The fights flew by, and everything else faded into the background.
-If you spent as much time practicing your lines as you do moving around, you'd win an Oscar for acting,- Count Dooku remarked—or rather, Christopher Lee, a calm, refined man with remarkable social skills, who seemed like a father to everyone, and that was wonderful.
-I'm already good with my lines,- Ewan replied, slipping into that Scottish accent that emerged whenever comfort smoothed his edges.
-And still, the production is outstanding. Look at these sets—they look like they were pulled straight out of a spaceship,- Ewan commented, pointing out every detail. He focused on the center of the stage, the distant space, a window that recreated a planet through lights. It was just a matter of changing sets. They used the green room, but standing there filled him with vivid fantasies.
-Very educational,- Lee commented.
-Your Dooku series needs at least one fight with me, even if you didn't want to do it,- Ewan said, recalling his brief encounter with Lee in the Dooku series, with a Liam Neeson cameo that appeared briefly and delivered a powerful presence.
-Very good, and you're right. Dooku's fortress is beautifully built across three halls here; everything feels like it came out of a fairy tale, a true lesson in production design,- Lee said, admiring the craftsmanship.
-Did you like it?- Ewan asked.
-In fact, they were very warm,- Lee replied. -They gave me my saber, the crew was comfortable, the experience of being part of it all—something I'm grateful for. That's why I don't complain now; I know when something will stand the test of time.-
For obvious reasons, Ewan simply nodded. The first hadn't been so enjoyable; perhaps they were waiting for the entire trilogy to be completed.
-I seem to have left you discouraged,- Lee said.
-Just eager to play hard,- Ewan replied.
…
The actors began to arrive—from extras to those with their own voice and influence. Samuel L. Jackson, Ian McDiarmid, Joel Edgerton, and Temuera Morrison. All of them now testing the completed set, not just fragments of it. Simple. Nothing imaginary.
...