That's a Wrap

When George Lucas found another chance to visit the set, Irene was filming the final courtroom scenes.

"Hey, Mom, warm up the lighting a bit. I want Reese to really stand out!"

"Got it, boss."

"Elle's outfit won't do! It needs to be sharper, more professional! Have you never seen proper business attire?? I want a 'pink bombshell,' not a 'pink marshmallow'! Go change!"

George arrived just in time to catch Irene "going off" on set. As expected, even the sweetest temperament could turn sharp once its owner took the director's chair.

Seeing that Irene hadn't noticed him, he went with Francis to a nearby trailer to chat.

"Time flies. Even Irene's started directing on her own." George took the teacup Francis handed him, but after one sip, it was so hot he quickly set it down.

"Your Star Wars Prequel should be in postproduction by now, right?" Francis sounded a little tentative, and George immediately picked up on it.

"What, still haven't found a distributor for Irene's movie?"

You really couldn't hide anything from an old friend. "A few companies have expressed interest, but I haven't decided which one to go with. I was just about to ask you—what do you think of 20th Century Fox?"

"You're worrying about it too early. Wait until Irene finishes shooting. Every company has its own strengths, and I can't recommend one without seeing the finished film." George carefully picked up his teacup again. "Speaking of which, Irene's doing all right, isn't she? Sure, you can use your old face to call in a favor or two, but if the movie really isn't any good, I'm afraid your reputation won't help much."

Francis was on set every day, and he reviewed that day's footage after they wrapped. He had plenty of confidence in his daughter. "She may not be on our level, but she should be able to bring in fifty or sixty million at the box office."

George nearly choked on his tea and started coughing. "You're that confident?"

Francis didn't care to reveal more. He only smiled mysteriously.

George remembered that Francis had worn the same expression when he was making The Godfather, and felt reassured.

Back on set, Irene was keeping an eye on the final adjustments when she caught Edward Nelson sneaking over.

He pulled two of Britney's albums from inside his jacket. "Hey, boss, you have no idea how hard these were to get! I waited in line forever."

Irene snatched them from him. She'd been so busy these past few days that she hadn't had a moment to support her friend's career. "Perfect! Go get me another hundred... No, two hundred! One for everyone on the crew."

Edward swallowed and said stiffly, "Boss, it's not that I don't want to help... I really can't! There's a purchase limit now, one per person. I even had to pay extra to get the one you're holding."

"She's that popular..." Irene had wanted to show her support, but it seemed Britney didn't need her help after all. "Never mind, then. How much were these? I'll reimburse you."

"It's pocket change, don't worry about it! Just remember to call me if you make another movie!" Edward had finished filming his scenes ages ago, but he still hadn't found a new job, so he'd kept hanging around the set. Whenever Irene had a free moment, he'd rush over to her.

Irene thought he was handsome, and since he saved her the cost of renting a car, she couldn't bring herself to turn him away. She'd usually just have him run errands. But he'd gotten more and more eager, refusing a salary and even paying out of pocket to help.

Irene gave his acting some serious thought, then studied his handsome face and nodded against her better judgment.

To be honest, Edward had short golden-brown hair, icy blue eyes, a straight nose, and well-defined lips. When he smiled, it was like sunshine pouring down. He was a bona fide pretty boy, every bit as handsome as the then-rising star Leonardo DiCaprio.

Too bad his acting was a hundred miles behind Leo's. No wonder he hadn't made it big in his previous life, despite having a face like that.

With his family background, he didn't need to struggle to make it in the entertainment industry. Whether he became famous or not, he could always go home and inherit the family business. After running into Hollywood's seedy side a few times in his previous life, he'd grown disillusioned and gone home.

But in this life, he'd run into Irene, a total sucker for a pretty face. "Boss, do you know any other reputable productions you could recommend?"

"What, still haven't found a job?" Even with his lousy acting, surely a face like his could land him a speaking role somewhere.

"Don't get me started! I go to auditions, and every one of them says they know some producer or some big-name director and can make me the next Leonardo, as long as I do what they say. Then, one second later, they're asking me to meet them at a hotel to talk things over? Do they think I'm stupid? They're all old enough to be my grandparents... I'd rather let you have your way with me than let them! Why don't you sleep with me, boss? I've got faith in you! I'll be your go-to supporting actor from now on!"

"Ugh! How generous of you to think of me—would sleeping with you benefit me, or you? At least you know your limits. You're only asking for a supporting role?"

"Heh, I forgot you're still underage, boss. Once you're an adult, you can come find me anytime!"

"Get lost."

"Director, the lighting's ready." The two had been joking around, and time had flown. The lighting crew had finished adjusting the soft overhead lights, and the camera crew had completed the final track calibration. Everything was ready.

Irene's smile faded, and her expression instantly grew focused. She walked over to the monitor and picked up the walkie-talkie. "All right, everyone, let's get a test take." She turned to Reese, standing at the starting point among the crowd, and spoke with firm confidence: "Elle, remember, I want you to show the effortless grace of someone at ease in a crowd—not confidence that's forced, but something that comes from within. Action!"

The clapperboard snapped shut.

Elle Woods took a deep breath, raised her chin, and strode toward the crowd with confidence. Dressed in a bright pink suit, she was like a vivid beam of light flowing through an ocean of solemn black suits.

She moved against the current, each step unhurried and composed, her pink figure tracing an elegant, dazzling path through the dark-clad crowd.

In that moment, no words were needed. The gentle yet resolute strength of a woman, and her undeniable radiance, were fully on display.

The camera held on the moment she looked back. Her eyes carried the calm of victory, along with an almost imperceptible tenderness.

"Cut!" Irene's voice broke the silence, but she immediately picked up a megaphone and added, "Great! But we can do better! Everyone, remember—you're not background scenery. You're Harvard Law School students. Look at Elle with scrutiny, curiosity, even a hint of confusion! We need to make that contrast more dramatic. Let's do another take!"

When they got the final shot just right, Irene stood up from behind the monitor and looked around at all the staff and actors holding their breath. She took a deep breath, then announced in a clear, ringing voice, "I hereby declare Legally Blonde wrapped!"

The set erupted in cheers. Standing in the middle of it all, Irene watched the lights go out one by one, like a slow curtain call.

She felt strangely weightless—as if she'd just finished a long walk high above the ground. Her feet were finally back on solid earth, yet they still trembled a little.

The past few months flashed through her mind like a roll of film: from her first botched take to the countless adjustments to the shooting plan; from endless late nights reviewing footage to those tense, anxious moments when she'd nearly fallen apart.

Now, all those emotions settled into a strange calm.

Every set, every prop, even the dust floating in the air had once been an extension of her will.

She opened her palm, her fingertips still remembering the feel of the script pages. In the dark, these hands had clenched again and again, her nails digging into her palms as she told herself to stay calm, to keep going.

And now, a strange feeling was slowly rising within her. It might have been far from perfect, might not even have been good, but she had truly seen it through to the end.

She took one last look at the empty courtroom set, then turned and walked into the celebrating crowd.

Her steps were light, yet extraordinarily sure, like those of a student who'd handed in the most important exam of her life. She didn't know how she'd done, but she'd given it everything.