…..
Next Day.
…..
As [The Hangover] continued dominating the box office, the cast and crew were constantly on the move - state to state, city to city - giving interviews and riding the wave of sudden stardom.
The three once-unknowns - Zach Galifianakis, Paul Rudd, and Ben Azelart - had become overnight sensations.
Especially Zach.
He had exploded into the public eye, his now-iconic line being clipped, remixed, and turned into a viral meme plastered across the internet, applied to every trending topic imaginable.
His phone couldn't handle the flood of messages and notifications - crashing more than once before he gave up and bought a new one altogether.
And then there was Keanu.
Just a month ago, due to his injury over a hobby - he was getting passed over and second-guessed by producers across town.
But now, those same people were calling him with nothing but praise.
He had landed hard this time.
Sure, [Following] gave him the perfect launch any actor would wish for, but the roles that followed were mostly placeholders - projects that kept him afloat, not elevated his standing.
It was mostly because he rejected many offers that could do that - however, he had already decided that he would rather stay at home - then doing the same role over and over.
But this? His character as Phill - it is a definite breakout for him. Not just the serious, brooding presence he was usually cast as.
No, this time he was the cool-headed guy, the laid-back leader, the unexpected heart of the group. And audiences loved it.
It wasn't just a hit role. It was a career reset.
For the first time in a long while, Keanu actually had choices. Real ones.
He could see himself in a grounded family drama, an action film with real emotional stakes… hell, maybe even a family drama, and even a love story.
For once, the road ahead wasn't just a quiet continuation - it was wide open.
And that was all because of Regal.
And where was Regal?
And, truth be told, he wasn't going to ask.
Because knowing would mean thinking too much about it.
It would mean worrying, wondering what Regal was plotting next, trying to guess how high he'd aim this time.
And right now, the mystery was better left untouched.
Whatever he was doing - wherever he was - Regal deserved it.
Every bit of success, every quiet moment of peace, every inch of luxury.
He has earned it.
….
"…*yawn… damn, how long was I out?"
Regal muttered, voice rough with sleep as he blinked awake.
He turned - and there she was.
Gwendolyn lay tangled in the sheets, her bare shoulders just visible, hair sprawled like ink across the pillows. The quiet aftermath of a long, chaotic night.
A slow, satisfied smile crept across his face. He leaned over and placed a gentle kiss on her forehead.
Then, carefully sliding out of bed, he slipped into his slippers and let his gaze wander across the room.
The master bedroom was enormous - easily twice the size of the shoebox flat he used to rent back in the early days.
This was his new place.
Yeah, Regal had finally done it. He bought a house.
His second time moving since landing in this world… and hopefully, the last.
He'd been searching for months - waiting for something that felt right. Somewhere he and Gwendolyn could settle, even if their careers meant staying rooted in Hollywood's orbit. And that didn't come cheap.
But it wasn't about the money. He had plenty.
Gwendolyn knew about his 'safe stash' - returns from smart investments, plus the untouched income from the [Harry Potter] books - which he held off to not touch after producing [Following] movie.
Every dollar he put into Color Comics, MDC, and other ventures had come from [Following], and later, [Death Note].
Regal was pretty clear - any money from [Harry Potter] books would be for his people, his home.
So yeah, it wouldn't be a lie to say he had saved up a significant chunk over the last fourteen months.
Still, he held off on buying a house. He wanted to feel… ready.
Like he had earned it. Like those who cared about him could look at the decision and not worry he had rushed into something reckless.
Still, he held off on buying a house. He was looking for some sort of mental security he would get after getting a hatrick success - not just to him - to the people who cared about him too.
They wouldn't want Regal to have carelessly spent huge amounts on a house, and later regret it or sell it.
It was going to be his first house - and they wouldn't want to compromise there.
And [The Hangover] gave him that.
A reassurance.
So he went all guns blazing.
Hollywood Hills.
That was home now.
The crown jewel of Los Angeles' celebrity sanctuaries - curving roads, postcard views, neighbors who had their own IMDb pages.
If someone had told his past self that this was where he'd end up… he would have laughed. Loudly.
But no one did.
And now, it didn't matter anyway.
The house was high-end luxury.
Maybe not ultra-mega-mansion levels, but just a tier beneath. Classy, refined, and built to last.
Price tag? Around $3.14 million - furnished, finished, and filed.
And truth be told… worth every cent.
The comfort, the privacy, the way the air smelled fresher somehow - it was addicting.
Now, he got it. Why people fought tooth and nail to keep this kind of life once they had a taste.
The home had five bedrooms, each with its own ensuite bath.
His current room was the master suite.
There was also a home theater, a temperature-controlled wine cellar, a fancy private office, a fully equipped home gym, and a quiet reading lounge tucked near the balcony.
And security? Top-notch. Motion detectors, full CCTV coverage, key-coded entries at every doorway, and remote 24/7 monitoring.
He had insisted on it, and the developers had delivered.
…..
Regal stepped into the bathroom and gave the countertop a familiar glance.
A small army of unfamiliar bottles and jars stood neatly lined up near the mirror.
Skincare products, apparently.
Toners, moisturizers, serums - each one labeled with intimidatingly specific instructions. One for under the eyes. One for after shaving. Another just for the T-zone, whatever that meant.
He sighed.
Despite Gwendolyn walking him through them just a week ago - in a lecture that lasted well over thirty minutes - he still couldn't grasp why anyone needed that many steps just to wash a face.
But he had listened. He had taken mental notes.
It was definitely not because he was suddenly obsessed with skincare… nope.
Instead he knew - sooner or later - he would need to direct actresses with authenticity.
And the last thing he wanted was to look clueless on set when it came to portraying modern femininity.
Still… the road ahead wasn't going to be easy.
For now? He just brushed his teeth, washed his face the old-school way, and stepped out.
He tossed on a worn t-shirt and a pair of grey sweatpants, barefoot as he made his way down the hallway into the kitchen.
It was already past noon.
He cooked two light plates - eggs, toast, a bit of fruit - then paused outside the bedroom, hand hovering near the door handle.
Should he wake her?
He hesitated… then let it go.
Instead, he wrapped her plate carefully and slid it into the warming tray to keep everything soft and fresh. Dry toast, he had learned, was a gamble he didn't want to take.
He scribbled a quick note and left it beside the tray:
'Heat it up if it gets cold. Love, R'.
Yeah. He had learned that too - how the small things meant more than they seemed.
….
Two hours passed.
Regal lay sprawled on the lounge sofa, one arm draped lazily over the cushions as he absently flipped through channels.
The television flickered with background noise, half-hearted sitcom laughs, shallow news anchors, meaningless chatter filled the silence.
Then came the soft sound of bare feet padding across hardwood.
He looked up.
Gwendolyn stepped into view, fresh from the shower, her damp hair tied loosely back. She wore a fitted tee and a short cotton skirt, simple and effortless. The plate of breakfast he had made was in her hands - still warm from the tray.
"Hey… good morning." She said, voice light, smiling as she approached.
He smiled back. "It's afternoon, actually."
She didn't answer - just rolled her eyes with that signature smirk and slid in beside him, curling up and leaning gently against his side. Her warmth bled through his shirt.
He didn't say anything either.
Instead, his gaze drifted away from the television and settled on her. The way her eyes flickered as she ate, the soft concentration in her expression, the faint movements of her lips between bites. Her legs were folded beside her, one foot brushing his knee.
She was beautiful.
It wasn't the kind of thought driven by blind love or …something else.
It was deeper than that.
By now, not to brag, he had seen a lot of Hollywood. Fame had brought its share of invitations - and …temptations.
Fancy parties, velvet ropes, champagne-fueled flattery. New faces with perfect symmetry, flawless skin, carefully curated charm.
They came and went like limited edition perfumes.
But Gwendolyn?
The longer he was around her, the more he realized it wasn't about her looks.
He had 'known' her for a year and a half now - first as a partner in business, then as a friend, now as something deeper.
It was her. Her mind. Her honesty. The way she cares, she puts her heart - and most of the effort and respect she held for their relationship.
And in all that time… he hadn't always given her what she deserved.
He was aware of that.
If she had walked away from him, he couldn't have blamed her. There wouldn't be some righteous argument or moral defense. Just regret.
But she hadn't left.
And he wasn't planning to let her go.
"…and I am not going anywhere either." Came her voice, as if on cue. Gwendolyn leaned in a little more, wrapping her arm around his like she had been reading his thoughts. "Actually… I think it's you who might be planning an escape."
He smirked. "Yeah? Funny, I was just thinking about where to take you for our next date."
She squinted suspiciously, not even pretending to be convinced. "You know, I don't need Rock pointing in my ear to know when you are lying."
"It's half true." He chuckled, tugging gently at her nose with two fingers, side to side. "I am thinking about taking you somewhere."
"Well, in that case…" She said with a mock sigh. "…I accept the offer."
He looked at her then - not just with affection, but a quiet kind of resolve.
They hadn't really seen each other in months. Sure, the occasional dinner, the half-days between meetings and deadlines - but never a full day. Never without interruptions.
It felt like a long-distance relationship… except they lived in the same city.
He exhaled without thinking.
Gwendolyn tilted her head. "Now you are sighing at me?"
"I wasn't." Regal replied.
"You were." She said with casual certainty.
"Okay, I was, but not at you."
"So you were sighing?"
"I just admitted I was."
"Huh? Not even denying it now? Wow… Did you get bored of me already?"
Regal blinked. He had no idea he had stepped into a trap older than civilization itself.
"Of course I wouldn't deny it, because I did sigh." He explained, trying his best to stay calm. "Also, when did I ever say I got bored of you? And for the record, it wasn't a sigh at you - it was just me… having a moment with myself, okay?"
Suddenly she pouted, puffing her cheeks like a child trying to hold her breath. "Oh, so now you are having a moment for yourself without me?"
"Hey, hey, hey…" He leaned back in mock surrender. "Just admit you are bored sitting around the house and want to go outside. Simple. Straightforward. Why play with my sanity like this?"
"Oopsie. I have been caught." Gwendolyn grinned, clicking her tongue mischievously.
"I knew it…" Regal muttered under his breath.
"Okay, fine, I am sorry." She said, holding up one hand like a guilty kid. "I just wanted to spice things up a little. It was fun."
"Yeah, yeah. You do love your chaos."
"Huh… Is someone mad now?" She teased, inching closer with a playful glint in her eyes.
.
….
[To be continued…]
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