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I wasn't expecting to see her again. Not tonight.
The screening was packed—one of those exclusive, invite-only industry things in Westwood where everybody wore tailored outfits but pretended they weren't looking at who was who. I showed up solo, dressed simple but clean. I was there for my mentor, Ryan Coogler. He'd invited me personally, said it was time I stopped hiding behind email threads and started showing face.
"You're the future," he told me. "Own that."
I was trying to.
The lobby was buzzing post-screening. Everyone sipped on champagne and congratulated Ryan like he hadn't just redefined visual storytelling again. I was about to slide out early when I heard his voice behind me.
"Hey, there she go," Ryan grinned, clapping my shoulder. "This the young queen I was tellin' you about."
I turned.
And there she was. Nia Long.
Hair down this time. Long black coat hugging her like the night itself wanted to keep her close. I felt my stomach tighten.
Her eyes flicked to me, and something subtle shifted in her face. Recognition. Something warmer beneath it. Maybe even curiosity.
Ryan gestured between us. "Nia, this is YN. Brilliant up-and-coming director. I've been mentoring her the last couple years."
Before I could say anything, Nia cut in, arms crossed lightly over her chest. "We've met."
Ryan blinked. "Oh, word? Well then you already know she's the next big thing."
I smiled quietly, eyes on her.
Nia looked at me again. Slower this time. A longer scan.
"Oh yeah?" she said, that same skeptical tilt in her voice. "She didn't mention she was in the industry."
Ryan laughed. "That's 'cause she's humble—too humble, if you ask me. She just wrapped her first feature. Wrote and directed it. Sharp, grounded work. Real storytelling."
Something flickered in Nia's expression. A shift in her posture. She wasn't leaning away anymore.
"Is that right?" she said, eyes narrowing just slightly on me.
I nodded, calm.
Her lips curled—half smile, half smirk. "So, you let me think you were just another smooth-talker with no résumé?"
"Maybe I wanted you to get to know me before you Googled me."
She chuckled, and this time, it was real. Soft, warm, caught off-guard.
Ryan's phone buzzed. He checked it, groaned. "Aight, I gotta run—press is calling. But y'all catch up. Seriously, Nia. This one's the truth."
And just like that, we were alone again. Same tension. New setting.
