Joey had done it.
Even if she'd done it under the name Annie Jones.
Overnight, "Annie Jones" became the hottest mystery in Hollywood.
The trades and gossip sites couldn't stop talking about her: "supernova," "breakout director," "once-in-a-generation genius." Those words were everywhere.
They had no idea who she actually was or what she looked like.
But Joey knew Hollywood didn't keep secrets for long. The fact that Annie Jones was Joey Grant was going to come out, and soon.
Never underestimate those tabloid bloodhounds. Digging up juicy personal dirt (even the nasty stuff) is literally their favorite sport.
Kingfisher Pictures had done everything they could to kill the rumors during the release, but there's no such thing as a soundproof wall in this town.
The more mysterious Annie stayed, the harder they'd dig.
Joey knew she couldn't hide forever. Better to rip the Band-Aid off herself (on her own terms) than let TMZ do it for her and turn it into a three-week feeding frenzy.
So she booked a radio interview for the following week and decided that's when she'd tell the world.
The second the stations heard Annie Jones was doing press, her inbox blew up. She was Hollywood's new darling.
It felt like seven years ago all over again (when she'd burst onto the indie scene with her debut and everyone lost their minds over her).
Only back then she'd just won some awards and made a little money.
This time she'd pulled off a legit box-office miracle.
She should've been on top of the world.
Instead, the day before the interview, she crashed. Hard.
She didn't talk to anyone. She barely left her apartment. She just sat there, quiet and miserable.
She was scared.
Suddenly she realized she didn't want people to know the woman behind the Annie Jones mask was her.
She was terrified of the headlines, the attacks, the "we don't acknowledge her anymore" shade all over again.
Even worse: what if the fans (the ones who'd fallen in love with Juno) would think once they found out Annie Jones was actually that trainwreck Joey Grant. Would they feel betrayed? Would they turn on her?
She acted like she didn't care what the press said about her, but deep down it had always cut her.
The more they tore her apart, the wilder and more reckless she'd gotten (just another layer of armor).
Truth was, those words had wounded her badly. She'd just never let anyone see it.
She thought she was healed, but now that the moment was here, she realized the scars were still there.
She'd finally escaped the old Joey. Started over. Built something new. People were starting to like her again.
She didn't want to go back.
But the mask couldn't stay on forever. She had to be the one to take it off.
She knew all of that logically.
She just needed a minute to stop shaking.
So she turned off her phone, wandered aimlessly down Sunset in West Hollywood, and ended up outside a little bar near Chateau Marmont (neon sign flickering, super pretty).
Something pulled her inside. She slid onto a barstool, ordered a random cocktail, and stared into it like it owed her money.
Soft jazz, dim lights, the whole vibe.
Then someone tapped her shoulder.
Tom Cruise.
Brown leather jacket, dark crew-neck tee, looking like he'd just walked off a magazine cover (because of course he did).
He'd noticed her the second he walked in: the quiet Asian girl face-down on the bar, looking like the weight of the world was crushing her. Not the fiery, take-no-prisoners Joey he remembered.
He actually had a meeting later and had just come in for a quick drink. He didn't have to talk to her (they barely knew each other). And honestly, he usually avoided casual chats with women in this town; one blurry photo and the next day it's "Tom's Mystery Date!" He'd worked too hard on his squeaky-clean image to let gossip rags ruin it.
Plus, most Hollywood women bored him. They all acted unique, talked in that breathy "old-money" money voice, but underneath the mask it was the same lazy charm, weaponized beauty, and empty soul. (Not all of them, obviously, but enough.)
Still… something made him walk over.
He slid onto the stool next to her. "Didn't expect to see you here. You okay? You look like you lost a fight with life."
Joey shrugged. "I'm fine."
"Your face says bitter laugh, not fine." He snapped for the bartender, ordered a drink, then gave her that classic half-smirk.
She didn't feel like explaining her sob story (especially not to Tom freakin' Cruise). She figured a mega-star like him could never understand the mess in her head.
She was wrong.
Tom didn't beat around the bush. He already knew what was eating her.
Those same soulless gossip rags.
He'd been their punching bag longer than she'd been alive.
"I've spent my entire career at war with the media," he said out of nowhere.
Joey blinked. "How did you—"
He smiled (warm, world-weary, the kind only 40+ years in this circus gives you). "Please. I also know you're scared to admit who you really are."
She tried to laugh it off. "Okay, yeah… maybe a little. They tore me apart once. Still stings."
Tom stared straight ahead, that steady, seen-it-all gaze. "I know their playbook better than they do. I've sued two papers out of existence. You've had a taste, I'm guessing."
"More than a taste." She sighed.
He swirled his glass. "This town's built on sexism and racism nobody wants to admit is still there. But here's the thing: the studios only care about money. You just proved you can make them money. Scripts and financing won't be a problem ever again."
Joey took a sip (tasted bitter even if the drink wasn't). "I just wanted a clean start. Cut the past off completely. But those vultures won't ever let me forget."
Tom leaned in a little, voice low and serious. "Then shove success down their throats until they choke on it. Out-talent them so hard they have to call you a genius while they're still trying to drag you."
That's exactly what he'd done his whole career: never explained, never apologized, just dropped another billion-dollar movie and watched the same outlets that trashed him eat their words.
Sometimes he sued. Mostly he just won.
He knew she was young, probably didn't have his armor yet, but he wanted her to find that fire (the kind that stares down every hater and keeps climbing).
He didn't have a crush on her or anything. She wasn't his usual type. But there was something about her… a spark. You couldn't help wanting to see what miracles she'd pull off next. He had a feeling she was the kind of person who could smash every preconception Hollywood had.
Joey sat there quiet for a long time.
Then she tightened her grip on her glass and nodded. "You're right. If they wanna keep dragging up my past, fine. I'll bury them in great movies. One won't be enough? Cool. I'll make a second, a third, a tenth, until they've got no choice but to bow."
Tom grinned. "Exactly. Tell yourself: one day every last one of those gossip-rag vampires is gonna have to kiss the ring." He propped his head on his hand, laughing. "It'll be the best Hollywood revenge-princess story ever."
Joey actually laughed (first real one all day). "You know what? I was being stupid. I'm not gonna shrink because some bloggers might be mean."
She looked him in the eye. "Drinks are on me tonight. You just talked me off the ledge."
Tom stood up, slipped on his anti-paparazzi shades. "Glad you're good. I gotta run; someone's waiting. But you're one of the smartest people I've met in this town in a long time. You got this."
He flashed one more megawatt smile and walked out, cool as ever.
When Joey asked for the check, the bartender said, "The gentleman in the shades already took care of it."
She glanced at the door; he was long gone.
Fine. Next round's on me, Tom.
A week later.
The biggest movie-talk radio show in L.A., "Hollywood Online," had landed the hottest guest in town: breakout genius director Annie Jones.
Ratings were through the roof. Everyone wanted to know who this mysterious woman was and why she'd stayed hidden.
The host came on:
"Hey Annie, Dawson here. You just pulled off one of the craziest Hollywood miracles in years. I bet you've got a lot to say."
A low, calm, beautiful voice answered over the airwaves:
"Hi everyone. I'm Annie Jones…
…and I'm also Joey Grant."
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