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After bidding Michael a painfully reluctant goodnight at the door of his hotel suite, Emma was skipping, unable to wipe the massive, dopey smile off her face.
She pushed open the door to her own room and stopped dead in her tracks.
Sitting on the beds, waiting like a tribunal of gossipy judges, were Asha, Yali, and Carla.
All three of them had their arms crossed and identical, knowing smirks on their faces.
"Déjà vu," Emma thought, remembering the exact same setup after her first lunch with him.
If anyone were to walk past Emma's room door for the next two hours, they would have heard a chaotic symphony of girlish shrieks, loud gasps of "Aww!", and the muffled, completely out-of-tune sound of Asha and Yali loudly singing teasing playground songs while Emma aggressively hushed them.
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The BBC studio set was buzzing with nervous, electric energy.
The camera crew was doing final light checks, and the network representatives were eagerly pacing behind the monitors, waiting for their star guest.
Zain, Yali, and Asha were already seated on the plush interview sofas, getting their microphones clipped on.
Only Emma and Michael had yet to arrive.
Yali leaned over, whispering into Asha's ear.
"Are they coming together? I thought they had separate cars."
Asha let out a low, mischievous chuckle. "Maybe, maybe not. Who knows?"
Yali narrowed her eyes. "Are they?"
Asha's smile widened into a proud, wicked grin. "I am a master of manipulation, Yali. I expertly guided Emma into asking him to ride to the set together."
"Why?" Yali asked, genuinely curious.
"Because," Asha stated matter-of-factly, "Emma needs to show her territory. Do you know how many people at this network are going to be throwing themselves at Michael today? If they walk in together, looking like 'that', it sends a message. The vultures will stay away."
Yali gave her a flat, entirely deadpan look. "Wow. So brilliant," she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "You definitely did this for her well-being, and totally not just for your own personal amusement."
Asha, completely unfazed, just smiled and shrugged her shoulders.
Suddenly, the heavy studio doors swung open. The ambient chatter on the set instantly died down.
Walking through the doors, were Michael and Emma. "They looked good together" everyone thought.
But what completely stopped the room was the fact that their hands were tightly intertwined.
They were both glowing with a quiet, undeniable happiness.
Asha pumped her fist discreetly. "Yes!" she hissed triumphantly.
Yali was so excited she literally bounced in her seat, her hands covering her mouth.
Emma spotted her friends, her cheeks instantly turning pink.
She looked up at Michael and gently squeezed his hand. "I'm going to go meet them before makeup," she whispered.
"Go ahead," Michael smiled warmly, letting her hand slip from his. "I need to speak with Evans anyway."
As Emma jogged over to the girls, immediately getting tackled into a group hug, Michael walked toward the edge of the set where his manager was standing.
Before Michael could even open his mouth, Evans held up a hand. "Don't worry. I already laid down the law with the producers. They know you will not answer anything explicit about your personal life or the ongoing legal situation. You're bulletproof today, boss."
The cameras rolled. The setup was classic and intimate.
The charming, veteran BBC interviewer, Thomas, sat in a single armchair on the left.
On the large, curved sofa across from him sat the cast: Zain on the end, then Yali, Asha, Emma, and finally, Michael sitting right beside Emma.
"Welcome back to the BBC," Thomas smiled smoothly into the main camera. "Today, we are joined by the cast of the highly anticipated adaptation of *A Good Girl's Guide to Murder*, and, of course, the literary phenomenon himself, Mr. Michael Owen."
The interview flowed beautifully.
For the first twenty minutes, Thomas engaged in lively banter with the cast.
Zain recounted a hilarious story about accidentally breaking a prop on set, and Yali and Asha roasted him relentlessly.
Emma chimed in with bright, bubbly commentary.
Through most of it, Michael sat comfortably, on the sofa his one ankle on other leg's knee.
He didn't say much, but he laughed easily at the cast's jokes.
Eventually, Thomas turned his focus.
"Michael, you've been quite the silent observer today. Let's bring you in. When the casting for this show was announced, there were rumors that you personally championed Emma for the lead role of Pip. Is that true, and if so, why?"
Michael said after thinking for a while. "It is true," he nodded. "When I saw her in Wednesday and the decision was immediate. Her acting was simply phenomenal. As an author, you just want the absolute best person to breathe life into the character you created."
Emma blushed furiously, staring at her lap, while wishing he could hug him now.
Thomas chuckled.
"Well, it clearly paid off. Now, Michael, you've conquered the mystery genre. *The Fault in Our Stars* is currently breaking global romance records. *Grave of the Fireflies* is a historical tragedy. The world is dying to know... what is your next project?"
Michael thought for a second, a small smirk playing on his lips. "I am writing a fantasy novel."
The entire sofa-and Thomas-looked completely bewildered.
"Fantasy?!" Thomas exclaimed, leaning back in his chair. "A tragedy, a mystery, a romance, and now an epic fantasy? Michael, let's save us all the suspense. Tell us in advance: who is going to die this time?"
The whole set erupted into laughter. Zain nearly fell off the edge of the sofa.
"I'm keeping my lips sealed," Michael laughed, holding his hands up in surrender.
"But why a fantasy so suddenly?" Thomas pressed, wiping a tear of mirth from his eye.
"Well... there are people in this world who are absolutely obsessed with fantasy. World-building, magic, all of it. This project is for people like them, and for people like me, who just want to get lost in a grand, hopeful epic."
Thomas put a hand over his heart, exclaiming, "Oh, Michael is so considerate!"
As the interview neared its end, the studio quieted down.
Thomas looked at his cue cards, adopting a more thoughtful tone.
"Michael, your life has changed at warp speed," Thomas said seriously. "From a reclusive writer to a global icon, dealing with intense public scrutiny, hardships, and massive success... all at a very young age. What is your philosophy? How do you stay grounded when the world feels like it's spinning out of control?"
Michael fell silent.
He looked at the studio lights, then down at his hands, thinking deeply about his past life, his transmigration, and the bizarre, wonderful journey that led him to this exact sofa in London.
He looked back up at Thomas, his dark eyes strikingly clear.
"I think," Michael began slowly, his voice carrying a quiet, commanding gravity, "you could be the master of your fate, and the captain of your soul. But you have to realize that life is coming 'from' you, and not 'at' you. And that... that takes time to learn."
The studio was dead silent.
The quote hung in the air, resonating with everyone in the room.
Emma looked at him, completely awe-struck.
Even Michael paused, blinking slightly.
"Damn," he thought to himself, genuinely marveling at his own words. "That was actually pretty profound. Thanks William Ernest Henley"