Eli was born in the early morning hours following this year's Oscars. Now that he was a month old, it meant that it was already the end of March. Although Laila hadn't returned to Hollywood, her carefully planned schedule was still running smoothly under the coordination of Louise and the company's executives.
This year, they had a major task ahead. Not only were they preparing to compete for the summer blockbuster slot, but they were also focusing heavily on promoting Laila's new film—Blood Diamond.
This was the film that nearly cost Laila her life when she was captured in a bandit-infested region during shooting. From the moment it went into production, it drew enormous attention from all sides.
The company's interest wasn't just because this was the film Leonardo was rumored to be using to secure his long-awaited Best Actor Oscar. It was also because this might be the film to break Laila's box office record.
Speaking of her box office record, anyone who followed movies could recite it by heart: every release topped the box office for at least two consecutive weeks, and every film grossed over $300 million worldwide.
Because of those two benchmarks, the company was putting an extraordinary amount of effort into promoting Blood Diamond. They knew this kind of film had a box office disadvantage—reaching $300 million was going to be difficult. From their perspective, if it even crossed $150 million, it would already be considered a great success.
And yet, in an odd twist of fate—or maybe sheer luck—Laila's abduction during filming by Martin's group had turned what was once a low-key project into a major public interest story. Because of that incident, even box office analysts had begun revising their forecasts upward. But even the most optimistic estimate topped out at around $280 million—still short of the magic $300 million.
But this was Laila we were talking about—a once-in-a-century legend in Hollywood's hundred-year history! Even if it was just for the sake of preserving her streak, the industry insiders were determined to push Blood Diamond to cross that $300 million mark, no matter what.
And promotion? Well, throwing money at it solves most problems. Did their company lack money? Of course not!
At this point, it wasn't about recouping the investment—it was about saving face for the boss. To preserve Laila's god-tier record, they were more than happy to shell out an extra few dozen million dollars for marketing and ensure that $300 million was locked in.
The film was scheduled to release in early April.
As the director, Laila decided to attend the premiere—despite her family's objections.
They didn't think her presence would have any real impact on the film's performance. And it wasn't like missing a premiere was some huge deal—she'd been to so many. When her very first film came out, she was in such dire straits she hadn't even held a premiere. And yet, that very film marked her triumphant entry into Hollywood, becoming a monumental starting point.
But Laila still chose to come. What her family didn't know was that this film held a special meaning for her.
The films she'd directed before had all achieved a certain level of success in her original world. Her commercial films had been major moneymakers, and her Oscar-aimed dramas had also earned critical acclaim.
Blood Diamond was different. Its original version hadn't been a box office hit. It had received a few Oscar nominations, but it never reached the heights of her other projects.
Laila loved the script. She had dug deeper into the material using her creativity and intellect, trying to elevate it even further. She wanted to see what kind of outcome her version of the film would bring. Could her direction and actor coaching lead Leonardo to win his Oscar more than a decade ahead of schedule?
So this film had a different significance for her. It was, in a way, a test. If she succeeded, she could move on to her next script with confidence. If she failed, she'd analyze where she went wrong—and try again.
She didn't care much about how others viewed her. Or rather, she didn't care too much. To her, being a filmmaker meant more than pleasing critics. Her films weren't made for them. They were made for herself, and for the audiences and fans who genuinely loved her work.
And so she came—setting foot once more on this movie-drenched land after half a year away from Hollywood.
Naturally, the moment Roy held her hand and led her down the red carpet, fans went wild with screams.
"Laila—!!"
"We'll always support you!"
To those adorable fans, Laila smiled and waved warmly.
Photographers and journalists caught every moment of it on camera. When those photos were published the next day, media outlets dubbed it "Laila's Grand Return." Newspapers with the image on the entertainment cover sold several hundred thousand more copies than usual, simply because people wanted to keep that photo as a keepsake. The media marveled at yet another display of Laila's magic—proof that her presence alone could stir the world.
"Laila, may I ask what your thoughts are on this film?" a reporter called out as she was stopped for an interview.
Laila glanced at him and replied with a smile, "I've always been very fond of my films. Even at the beginning, when my techniques were still raw, I cherished every one of them. So if you're asking what I think about this one—I can only say, I like it."
The reporters smiled bitterly. Sure, she could say that—but what were they supposed to write? That was barely a headline. What they wanted was something they could spin into a juicy media frenzy.
"Director Moran, many people are worried that this film might break the string of records you've created over the years. What's your response to that?"
Now that was a sharp question, and every reporter's eyes lit up. Even the surrounding fans pricked up their ears.
To be fair, building that kind of box office legacy over ten years was no easy feat. If it were broken just like that, it would feel like a loss to everyone.
Especially for the younger generation—they didn't just admire Laila; they identified with her. It was as if her success was theirs, and her failure would be their failure too. Of course, they didn't want that to happen.
But this wasn't the first time Laila had been asked this question. Friends and company staff had raised the same concern before, and she had always responded the same way.
"Records are achievements that fans and audiences have gifted me. As a director, what I care more about is creating what I believe to be excellent films—not letting them gather dust. As for the outcome, I trust the people who've seen the film to give the final verdict. If they feel it's a good movie that made them reflect or feel something—then I'll know I didn't make it in vain."