Dreams of Stardom (Hollywood SI)

"Oh my fucking God!" Rihanna moaned in satisfaction while lying on my bare chest. "That was the best one ever. I think I'm addicted to you."

"Glad you think so, love." I grinned, placing a kiss on her forehead. My hand traveled down her bare skin, and with every inch explored by my fingers, she shivered in anticipation.

Unfortunately, I couldn't give her another round just now, so I stopped at her lower back.

"What?" She groaned in disappointment. "Why did you stop?"

"You know why," I said, glancing at the clock on her bedside table. "We barely got any sleep last night, but I still have to work today."

Rihanna pouted, resting her cheek on my chest. She wrapped her arms around me, pulling me closer, if that was even possible.

"I'm not letting you go anywhere," she declared, her tone playful but firm. "Even if I have to keep you as a hostage."

I chuckled at her defiance, leaning down to capture her lips with mine. Her mouth opened eagerly, and I let my tongue explore hers, savoring the moment.

After a few moments, I pulled back, giving her an apologetic smile. "I really have to go, Ri."

"I won't let you," she said with determination, a devilish grin spreading across her face. Her hand slid down my chest, stopping in a place that left no room for negotiation.

"Aah," I exhaled softly as her grip tightened around me.

"Still want to go to work?" she asked, feigning innocence.

No man in the world could resist what she had just started.

"Just one more round," I said, my tone as serious as ever before kissing her again.

(Break)

"You're late," Imogen deadpanned.

"It's just half an hour," I said sheepishly. "I'm sorry. It won't happen again."

"Are you sure about that?" Jamie grinned, draping an arm around my shoulders playfully. "Because your neck says otherwise." He touched a sore spot on my neck that I hadn't even realized was tender.

Imogen, ever so kind, handed me a small mirror from her handbag. I spotted the evidence Rihanna had left on me last night—or more accurately, this morning. In most situations, I'd be proud that someone as stunning as her had marked her territory, but we had a film to shoot, and Harry can't have a hickey when he hasn't even made out with anyone properly yet.

"I didn't know," I said seriously.

"Sure you didn't," Jamie replied with a knowing nod. "I'm just amazed—how the hell did the makeup department miss it?"

I shrugged, equally puzzled. Maybe it had slipped their notice.

"Don't worry about it," Imogen said, stepping closer with a small makeup kit in her hand. "I can cover it up for you right now if you want?"

"Hell yes," I said, enthusiastically bending down to give her access to the spot. The last thing I wanted was for everyone to speculate about my personal life. Making a relationship public was one thing, but shouting about intimate details was a whole other level.

"Thank you," I said once the short girl was done. Imogen wasn't exactly tiny, but with my latest growth spurt, almost everyone looked short next to me. Not to brag, but at 6'3" (191 cm), I was tall enough to make casting directors sweat over finding co-stars of comparable height. I just hoped I wouldn't grow any taller—it would be a nightmare to land roles where the protagonist wasn't towering over everyone.

"No problem," she smirked. "I bet you had loads of fun getting that hickey."

"I would tell you," I said seriously, "but you're too young to hear the details."

Imogen looked incensed, "I'm the same age as you!"

Turning to Jamie, I asked, "What do you think, man?"

He nodded solemnly before pulling Imogen to his side. "Definitely too young. I can't let my younger sister hear all this filth from a degenerate like you."

We all burst out laughing at the absurdity of it.

"You guys ready?" Rian Johnson asked, finally approaching us after making sure everything was set up.

"We are," I replied, glancing down at the Quidditch uniform I was wearing. Initially, there had been some debate about cutting Quidditch entirely, but Rian insisted on keeping it because it was his favorite part of the first two films.

Today, we were shooting the flying sequences, which were heavy on CGI. That's why Emma wasn't here—Hermione wasn't a flier in the story.

The three of us made our way to the broomsticks, which were now mounted on state-of-the-art contraptions designed to simulate the wild aerial stunts. The technology had come a long way since the first film. Back then, spending an entire day suspended midair on a narrow stick had been a nightmare. Now, the new setup was far more comfortable, though it was still a long day's work

(Break)

Imogen was enjoying every moment of shooting [Harry Potter]. She still remembered the day years ago when she auditioned for Hermione, just like countless other girls. She had been among the lucky few to make it to the final round, neck and neck with Emma Watson for the role. Unfortunately, it wasn't meant to be.

She had given up hope until she got a call a few days later asking if she would like to play Ginny Weasley. At the time, Ginny barely had a line in the first film, only saying, "Good luck," to Harry before he crossed the barrier at Platform 9¾. She had to dye her hair for that one fleeting scene.

Imogen had almost said no, but her father convinced her otherwise.

Thank God he did. Her role grew in the second film, becoming central to the story. It receded into the background for the third and fourth movies, but now, with the fifth film, Ginny had been given a more prominent arc. Imogen didn't know why, but she suspected it had something to do with the sixth book, which hadn't been released yet.

Filming with Troy and Jamie was always a blast. Despite being a bona fide superstar, Troy was the most grounded and kind person she had ever met. He treated everyone equally, never making anyone feel lesser. Sure, there had been some friction during the filming of the second movie due to personal issues in Troy's life, but things eventually smoothed over. The atmosphere on set was so warm and welcoming that sometimes Imogen didn't even want to go home.

Unfortunately, today's shoot had wrapped, and she had no excuse to stay out any longer.

"Hey, Imogen," Troy called out just as she was about to change out of her Quidditch uniform. "Jamie and I are heading to a concert. Want to join us?"

Now that was a tempting reason to stay out late. It was Saturday, which made it all the better.

"Which singer?" she asked curiously.

Before Troy could reply, Jamie grinned and answered for him. "The same one whose artistry you hid this morning." He pointed at Troy's neck none too subtly.

Rather than looking embarrassed, Troy nodded casually. "Yeah, it's Rihanna. So, what do you say?"

Rihanna wasn't a huge artist yet. She was good, but her biggest claim to fame wasn't her music; it was her relationship with Troy. Tabloids on both sides of the Atlantic had had a field day when their relationship went public. Imogen could only imagine the paparazzi circus that followed them.

Still, she had never been to a concert before, and this was as good an opportunity as any.

"Okay," she said, trying to sound nonchalant.

"Great," Troy said with a smile. "Let's all change and meet in the parking lot in fifteen minutes."

Imogen nodded but cursed herself internally. She didn't have anything remotely suitable for a concert with Troy Armitage. He would show up looking effortlessly stylish in designer clothes, while she'd look like she had wandered in from the countryside.

Nonetheless, Imogen got ready in record time, making sure to call her mother before meeting the two boys. To her surprise, Troy was dressed casually in a T-shirt and jeans, looking like any other teenager. A very tall, well-built, and handsome teenager, but a normal teenager nonetheless.

"Let's go," Troy announced, leading the way to his Range Rover.

"Don't you have a Lambo?" Jamie asked as they all slid into the back seat.

"I do," Troy replied. "But it's in California. Since I don't have a license here, Dad didn't get me a car either. Just six more months, and I'll have a new one."

"And it's a two-seater," Imogen added, glancing at the group. There were four people in the car, including the driver.

Jamie gave her a curious look. "How do you know that?"

"Just because I'm a girl doesn't mean I don't know that a Lambo has only two seats," Imogen retorted. "The only four-seater Lambo was discontinued in the '70s."

Troy laughed. "Excuse Jamie. He's just being a sexist pig."

"Hey!"

The banter continued good-naturedly until they arrived at the concert venue. The hall was relatively small, as Rihanna was still a new artist, but it was larger than anything Imogen had ever experienced. She glanced around nervously. The pace of everything—security, the crowd, the flashing lights—felt overwhelming.

"You okay?" Troy asked, concern evident in his voice.

"It's nothing," she said, waving off his worry. "Just my first concert. Ever."

"Then you're going to love it," he said with certainty.

Imogen wasn't entirely convinced. She wasn't even a Rihanna fan and hadn't heard any of her songs. It felt strange to be at the concert in such a position. Their group was quickly escorted to the entrance by Troy's bodyguards, who formed a tight circle around the trio, making it nearly impossible for anyone to approach them.

"Mr. Armitage," a security guard at the entrance recognized Troy immediately and gestured toward a side entrance. "If you would come this way, I'll show you the VIP entrance."

"Thank you," Troy said with a polite nod, as if this was routine. "Come along, Jamie, Imogen."

Imogen grew more self-conscious as people in the crowd began pointing and shouting in recognition. 

"Troy! Over here!" someone yelled.

"Troy! Ron! Ginny!"

Troy was the only actor that was recognized by his real name. Despite the fans' extra efforts, Troy gave only a brief wave before continuing toward the entrance.

She couldn't help but feel it was a little rude that Troy didn't interact with his fans, but she chose to keep her thoughts to herself.

"Wondering why I didn't stop to talk to them?" Troy asked, correctly reading her expression as they walked through the corridor.

Imogen chuckled. "Am I that obvious?"

"Yes," Jamie chimed in. "It was written all over your face."

She ignored Jamie and turned to Troy. "So, why didn't you?"

"Because this is Rihanna's day," Troy said, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. "People should be here to see her. I don't want them to remember this as the day they met me—it should be the day they saw her perform live."

That was so thoughtful of Troy to do something like this for his girlfriend. Imogen had seen firsthand at various [Harry Potter] premieres how much Troy loved interacting with his fans. For him to hold back for someone else's moment was undeniably sweet.

If only her boyfriend was as caring as well…

The VIP booth they were given started out mostly empty. As time passed and more people arrived, even the VIP section began to fill. Occasionally, someone would approach their group to meet Troy. He greeted everyone warmly but politely declined requests for photographs and autographs, staying true to his intention of not overshadowing Rihanna's concert.

And soon enough, the much awaited moment arrived. The lady on the night took the stage in a stunning red dress that dazzled everyone in the audience.

"How you doing, London?" Rihanna's confident voice rang out as she stepped into the spotlight. The crowd erupted in cheers. "It's good to be here. The first time I came here, I met someone, and I quickly learned what it means to date an English gentleman."

The audience went wild at the clear reference to Troy, who smiled softly at her words.

"So, I thought it'd be a great idea to start this concert with a duet featuring that same guy," Rihanna continued, turning toward the VIP box. "Troy, love, would you please join me on stage?"

Troy's eyes widened in surprise at the unexpected invitation.

"Why are you doing this, Ri?" he muttered, though Imogen heard him clearly. "I didn't want to steal your spotlight."

"He seems a little shy," Rihanna teased, her voice carrying over the mic. "Maybe you all can help me convince him. Come on, everyone—Troy, Troy, Troy…"

The chant spread like wildfire until the entire crowd was calling his name. Realizing he had no choice, Troy stood with a grin, making his way to the stage. Once there, he pulled Rihanna into his arms and planted a kiss on her lips, sending the crowd into a frenzy.

A stagehand handed Troy a second microphone as he turned to face the audience.

"I have no idea what to sing," he admitted with a chuckle.

"I do," Rihanna said, her eyes twinkling. "The last song we sang together."

"Ah," Troy nodded, understanding her plan. "I don't mind an early release." Turning to the audience, he added, "This is a song that hasn't been released yet. Rihanna and I worked on it for our upcoming movie together, which is called… [Echoes of You]."

The crowd's excitement soared at the announcement. The thought of Troy and Rihanna sharing the screen and performing together was almost too much for some fans.

The band, clearly prepared for this surprise, began playing the opening chords. Soon, Troy started singing the first verse.

[We Don't Talk Anymore – Charlie Puth and Selena Gomez]

We don't talk anymore, we don't talk anymore

We don't talk anymore, like we used to do

We don't love anymore

What was all of it for?

Oh, we don't talk anymore like we used to do

His voice, rich and captivating, filled the hall effortlessly. Imogen didn't mind that she didn't know the song—no one did yet—but the entire crowd was swept away by the beautiful melody and the undeniable chemistry between Troy and Rihanna.

She turned to the only other person beside her that she knew and said, "I'm so glad I came here."

"Me too," replied Jamie before the two focused back on the beautiful melding voice of the two singers on stage.

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