Observation - Cillian Murphy

Success

"Angela told me about your dinner ... Did it get cancelled?" Alex breathed in deeply.

I got up from the bed, realising I had, in fact, forgotten about it.

My bedstand watch read Six Fifty-Eight PM. Quickly, I picked out my dress from the wardrobe and went to the bathroom - dark silver floors covered in marble, fluffy white towers and beige tiles. The bathroom was quite full of air. You could almost feel asleep on the soft carpet under the sink.

A large mirror filled half of the right wall, lightning itself up as I pressed the button.

I walked over to observe myself standing. My makeup looked smudged, and my hair- chaotic. The eye bags from insomnia seemed to come back. Sighing deeply, I put on a pitch-black dress that hugged my body in different areas.

After fixing my face and hair, I returned to the dim room. Alex was no longer there. I was all alone. Again.

Maybe I'd used Alex as a temporary distraction to forget all my problems. I was afraid he thought everything was real. (it wasn't)

I was not sure if I was as tired mentally as I regarded myself in the mirror before.

'I am doomed to be stuck.' I thought to myself. 'No matter where I am, no matter which country I try to relax in, I will forever feel an undying feeling of exhaustion.'

A few minutes later, I entered the vast area of the hotel's restaurant. Multiple flowers and candles sat on the large tables, enlightening them.

The lamps, like sunshine on frost, peaked through the foggy windows. Again, Amsterdam's nightlife seemed more lively than I'd ever been.

I glimpsed every actor at the table: Jodie Comer, Aaron-Taylor-Johson, Austin Butler, a man I'd never seen before and Sandra Oh, whom I adored endlessly. Killing Eve was my comfort show for years. I couldn't believe I had a chance to meet both actors in real life.

"Hello!" I greeted the cast members. We exchanged warm smiles and began discussing the process of filming.

After some time, Sandra expressed, her eyes glowing. "Oo, they're here."

"Who is?" a distant voice from the table spoke.

Laughing, Sandra motioned with her eyes at the dishes the waiter placed on the silky cover.

Jodie shook her hand. "I can't believe he didn't join us today."

I raised my eyebrow, wondering which 'him' Jodie was referring to.

Aaron looked up from his plate, stabbing the pasta with his fork.

"Let's play 'best part worst part'," he spoke.

I chuckled, reading the facial expressions of others. Sandra took a sip of her juice and responded. "Best part of the past month- having dinner with my cast mates. The worst part ..." She paused, humming a song under her breath. "Maybe ... having to be away from home. What about you?" She suddenly turned to face me.

"I will start from the worst," I'd voiced. "Worst part - having insomnia and experiencing life. And... best part - I found somebody who understood me." (in some sort)

Austin scoffed. "You know when they say someone will 'be your second half' or 'complete you fully'? What does that even supposed to mean?"

We laughed, which brought a feeling of safety and home. For so long, I couldn't grasp it, but here I was, sitting and grinning from ear to ear at a sentence which wasn't even considered funny.

Life flooded the table, and I didn't seem to be left alone either.

"So, I heard you did a photoshoot recently." Jodie leaned on her table in front of me.

I chuckled. "Yes."

She nodded slowly. "Did you like it? Im asking since," she paused, thinking. "I will have to work with the same photographer."

Smiling, I glanced at her plate: a spinach salad; the glass of martini stood enhancing the table, a dark olive falling on it.

I nodded ... again and again. "He's nice. Don't worry about it."

Suddenly, Aaron put his fork down on the plate, forming a straight line and indicating he's finished his dish.

"Do you ever think about ... being great?" he asked, looking into my eyes.

I looked back at him, thinking of an answer. "I think it's important."

"How so?"

"Achieving success is everyone's dream, Aaron." I rolled my eyes.

"And that's your idea of it?"

I chuckled. "Becoming perfect and the biggest star would be anyone's idea of success."

"Dying addicted or drunk at a young age would not be my idea of this. I mean ... have you seen what this industry has been doing for so long?"

I peeked into his eyes.

"I'd rather die young, addicted or drunk, since ... people tend to discuss it more than when you die sober at 80."

"Well, there's such a thing as friends and... being valued and welcomed."

"I prefer to be detested. It serves more purpose than just miserable applause."

"That's absurd. You don't mean that." Aaron gazed upon me. I remained silent for a second, he continued.

"Oh, please, Rochelle, don't tell me you think you're better than me for thinking success is not a joke?"

I nodded slowly, to which Aaron just rolled his eyes.