Zenith of Desire: The Hollywood Incubus

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”So it’s true?” She sat up eagerly. ”Sleep really makes you taller, grow faster?”

”It helps.” He nodded. ”When you’re young, your body does a lot of its growing while you’re asleep.”

”It fixes things. It recovers. It gets ready for tomorrow.”

Elizabeth considered this very seriously. ”So...If I sleep more... I’ll get grow faster?”

”A little. But don’t overdo it.” He pointed at her. ”Sleeping all day isn’t healthy either. Sleep too much and you just get lazy. And fat. And I’m sure little Liz doesn’t want to be fat and lose her beauty. So eight to ten hours is perfect. Enough to grow, not enough to become a sloth.”

”I would never,” Elizabeth said, horrified at the suggestion. ”I’m very active. I do yoga. Mary-Kate taught me..”

”Good. You still need to run around. Read books. Climb trees.”

Elizabeth nodded solemnly. ”I can do that.”

”Good.” Marvin smiled. ”The world isn’t going anywhere... So don’t rush to grow up.”

She hugged the script against her chest. ”...Okay.”

For a while, the trailer fell into an easy, comfortable silence.

Elizabeth kept reading, occasionally stopping to ask why a character made a certain decision or to guess what might happen next.

Marvin answered every question without stopping his own writing.

Eventually, Maya checked the time and cleared her throat gently.

”I think that’s our cue, Lizzie.”

Elizabeth stood, clutching the script tightly to her chest like a shield. Her heart was pounding so hard she was sure everyone could hear it. She walked over to where Marvin sat, her steps light but determined, and before he could say anything or even fully turn toward her, she leaned up on her toes and pressed a quick, firm kiss to his cheek.

It was a child’s kiss — innocent, earnest, and full of all the gratitude and admiration she couldn’t put into words. Her lips lingered for just a second longer than necessary, soft and warm against his skin, carrying the faint scent of her strawberry lip gloss.

Marvin froze, not because the action surprised him — he had felt the intention forming in her mind like a bright, fluttering spark — but by the sheer ferocity of the emotion behind it. The pure, unguarded affection in that single, simple kiss hit him harder than he expected.

Elizabeth pulled back slowly, her cheeks flushed a deep, adorable pink. Her eyes were wide and shining with a beautiful mix of nervousness, joy, and that pure, unguarded affection a girl revealed only to the person who meant the most to her. She bit her lip, suddenly shy, but the radiant smile that lit up her face was impossible to hide.

”Don’t forget your promises,” she whispered, the words meant only for him. ”And remember to save a place for me. Among your girl-friends. When I’m older. When I’m ready.”

She turned to sprint toward the door, her braids flying behind her like red ribbons in the wind. But she paused at the threshold, spinning back around. Her entire face was burning red, the blush spreading all the way down her neck.

”And stop calling me little Liz!” she shouted, her voice cracking adorably with the effort of trying to sound fierce.

Marvin smiled. ”I’ll think about it.”

”No!” She stamped one sneaker against the trailer floor. ”I mean it! We’re practically the same age.”

Marvin raised an eyebrow. ”Oh? Is that so?”

”Yes.” She folded her arms. ”So if you keep calling me Little Liz...”

A mischievous grin spread across her face.

”...I’ll start calling you Little Marvin.”

Marvin laughed. ”Now that’s a terrifying threat.”

”It is.” She nodded confidently. ”It’ll ruin your big and scary reputation.”

With that final, playful challenge, she grabbed her stuffed panda and darted toward the door, her footsteps echoing brightly down the metal stairs like laughing the whole way.

”Lizzie,” Maya called, trying not to laugh at herself. ”I’m coming!”

Elizabeth waved over her shoulder without looking back before disappearing down the trailer steps.

Maya lingered just long enough to give Marvin a grateful smile. ”Thanks for making time for her.”

”Anytime.” The trailer door clicked shut.

Silence settled over the room once more.

Marvin glanced at the closed door, smiling to himself.

The trailer fell quiet once more. Silent except for the gentle hum of electricity and the distant sounds of the night outside.

Marvin touched the spot on his cheek where her innocent kiss still lingered. His fingers came away carrying the faint, sweet scent of apple juice and strawberry shampoo. He shook his head slowly, a soft, genuine smile playing at his lips as he stared at the closed door.

”This little red witch,” he murmured fondly to the empty room, picking up his pen again. ”Who taught her all that? Mary-Kate? The universe?”

He stared at the blank page for a moment, then began to write once more, his hand moving with that superhuman speed, filling the peaceful silence with the quiet rhythm of creation.

Outside, the moon continued its slow arc across the sky, indifferent to the promises made in trailers, to the children growing up too fast, to the stories being written in the dark. But inside, in the pool of lamplight, Marvin Meyers wrote on—keeping promises, building worlds, saving places for the future.

---

The next morning, Elizabeth Olsen’s mother, Jarnette, arrived to pick up her daughter.

After hugs and promises to visit Los Angeles, the Olsens departed. With the rural sequences completed, Marvin, Director John Polson, and the crew packed the trucks and headed south toward New York City for the remaining urban location shots.

...

Inside the quiet cabin of a black SUV heading down the interstate, Amy opened her leather portfolio. Sitting across from Marvin, she sifted through the latest quarterly summaries compiled by Scarlet Capital.

”We have the updated global figures for the end of the quarter, Marvin,” Amy said, her professional tone carrying a warm undercurrent of pride. She handed him a printed sheet. ”Momentum is holding steady across all divisions.”

Marvin took the paper, scanning the rows while Amy provided the verbal briefing.

**Music Division:**

* **The EP *Marvin 1*:** Reached duodecuple platinum status. Total sales crossed 12.3 million copies worldwide. It sits second only to Britney Spears’ *Stripped* in the current tracking period.

* **Single - ”My Heart Will Go On”:** Physical and radio syndication sales exceeded 6.7 million copies.

* **Single - ”Unstoppable”:** Sold over 2.3 million copies. The track maintained the number one spot on the North American Billboard charts for six consecutive weeks. This week, it officially topped both the US and UK Singles Charts simultaneously.

**Publishing Division:**

* ***Kung Fu Panda*:** 9.1 million copies sold globally since release. Currently ranks 11th on the active bestseller list.

* ***Ready Player One*:** 7.9 million copies sold, holding the 5th position on the bestseller list.

* ***Harry Potter and the Philosopher’s Stone*:** 4.9 million copies sold in its initial run. It currently ranks first on this year’s global bestseller list.

**Merchandising & Licensing:**

* ***Kung Fu Panda* Apparel & Toys:** Generated over $45 million in gross retail revenue.

* ***Harry Potter* Merchandise:** Projected to cross $60 million this quarter.

”The *Harry Potter* and *Kung Fu Panda* merchandise numbers look high on paper,” Amy noted, tapping her pen against the portfolio. ”But because we structured the manufacturing through the Meyers BrandWorks partnerships, you won’t see those royalty checks hitting your personal accounts. The leaders are diverting that capital to expand the European supply chain, build dedicated retail storefronts, and expand company manufacturing.”

”That is exactly where the money needs to go,” Marvin said, handing the paper back. ”We are building the infrastructure. Let the cash flow back into the company.”

Amy nodded, making a note in the margin. ”Understood. By the way, Tommy Mottola called my office twice yesterday. He wants a timeline for your next studio album. *Marvin 1* came out nearly two years ago, and Tommy is getting anxious. Sony executives are eager to capitalize on the Oscar win, and fan clubs are flooding their mailrooms asking for new tracks.”

Marvin looked out the tinted window at the passing highway. ”I have the tracklist outlined in my head. The melodies are locked. But tell Tommy he has to wait until we wrap principal photography on *Hide and Seek*. I will not split my focus.”

”I will relay the message,” Amy smiled. ”He won’t like it, but he’ll wait.”

....

...

..

.

The drive into the city moved swiftly. The production secured a block of rooms at the Hilton Hotel in Queens. Marvin utilized Paris’s connections to reserve Club 707, a venue within the hotel, to shoot the upcoming dance sequences without public interference.

After checking into the penthouse suite, Director Polson announced a mandatory rest day for the cast and crew to reset their internal clocks.

After changing into a plain black jacket, jeans, a baseball cap, a face mask, and a pair of glasses, Marvin slipped out for a walk. The city had finally begun to breathe again, the worst of the summer heat easing as the afternoon drifted toward evening.

He pulled his cellphone from his pocket and paused for a moment before dialing.

The night before, Scarlett had told him she was back in New York. She wasn’t moving home—just returning for one final callback for a stage production, an opportunity that had her swinging between cautious optimism and outright nerves.

She picked up on the second ring.

Even over the phone, her voice carried that familiar smoky rasp.

After a few minutes of talking, they agreed to meet at a small dessert shop on the edge of Central Park, the kind of quiet place where celebrities could disappear for an hour without attracting too much attention.

By the time Marvin arrived, the afternoon sun had begun its slow descent, stretching long bands of golden light across the park. The reservoir shimmered beneath it, glowing like polished amber.

The dessert shop looked as though it had been frozen somewhere in the 1950s. Chrome-trimmed counters reflected the warm lights overhead. Black-and-white checkered tiles covered the floor, and a pink neon OPEN sign buzzed softly in the front window.

Scarlett had already claimed a booth near the back, tucked behind a large potted ficus and well away from the street-facing windows.

She wore a faded denim jacket over an old band T-shirt. Her blonde hair was tied into a loose, slightly messy bun, with a few stubborn strands escaping to frame her face.

The bell above the door jingled.

She looked up.

The anxious expression she’d been wearing disappeared almost instantly, replaced by a smile that reached her eyes. ”Marvin.”

She said his name as though nothing else needed to be added.

”Scarlett,” he replied, slipping into the seat across from her. His gaze swept over her for a moment before a faint smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. ”You look... accomplished.”

”I look like I just got rejected by some casting director who thinks I look too old for my own age,” Scarlett muttered, trying to sound annoyed instead of hurt.

Marvin looked up from his drink.

”That’s oddly specific.”

She managed a tiny smile. ”Don’t ruin the drama.”

”I’m trying to have a tragic moment here.”

”You can schedule one after lunch.” Scarlett rolled her eyes, though the smile faded almost immediately.

She stared into her strawberry milkshake, slowly stirring it until the whipped cream dissolved into the pink surface. ”I auditioned for An American Rhapsody,” she said quietly. ”I really thought I had it.”

”You felt good about it?”

”I did.” She nodded. ”I had the accent. I knew the scenes. I practiced for weeks.”

Her shoulders slumped. ”Then afterward one of the casting assistant guys stopped me in the hallway.”

Marvin’s expression became more attentive.

”He said Bonnie Timmermann thought I looked too mature for the part.”

Scarlett forced a laugh that didn’t sound convincing. ”He actually said I didn’t look like a little girl anymore.”

Scarlett stopped stirring. She looked up at Marvin, her eyes red-rimmed and glassy, perfectly framed by the afternoon light. Her lower lip trembled slightly—a masterclass in vulnerability. She looked like she was a second away from breaking down into tears right there in the booth, her shoulders beginning to shake with suppressed sobs.

Marvin frowned, leaning forward, his hand automatically reaching across the table to cover hers. The excuse about her appearance was standard, cruel Hollywood rejection logic, but the behavior of the assistant triggered a distinct alarm in his mind. As an entity built on the mechanics of desire and manipulation, he recognized the scent of a predator setting a trap.

”I didn’t even know what I was supposed to do with that.”

Marvin reached across the table and rested a reassuring hand over hers. ”What else did the assistant say to you?” Marvin asked, his voice dropping into a cold, protective register that seemed to lower the temperature of the entire booth.

****

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