Bab 98: **Chapter 98: Dancing Through Life**
With both Kate and Gina out, the 4,000-square-foot apartment felt empty, the sound of his voice echoing.
"Am I cool or what?"
Luca shouted loudly.
"COOOOL!!"
He smiled, hearing the echo bounce around the apartment. "My house talks," he thought with satisfaction.
He kicked off his shoes and coat, took a quick shower, then wandered into the kitchen wearing shorts and a t-shirt.
Living alone, he kept things simple.
Two tomatoes were washed and peeled, tossed into the electric pot to simmer with some juicy cuts of beef.
Half an hour later, the tomato beef stew was ready—vibrant colors, a sweet and sour flavor, with tender beef soaking in the rich sauce poured over pasta.
A delicious plate of pasta was done.
Luca carried his meal to the window-side booth in front of the floor-to-ceiling windows.
Now that he was living alone, he limited his movements to a few areas: the bedroom, gym, and this cozy spot by the window, keeping the cleaning to a minimum.
*Ring, ring...*
Just as he was about to dig in, Kate called.
"Kate, it's 11 p.m. in Paris. Aren't you asleep yet?"
"Can't sleep!"
"What's up?"
Kate chuckled lightly. "Today, Lima, Miranda, and I went shopping, and we ate so much: Parisian lobster, coq au vin, bouillabaisse, foie gras... especially the coq au vin. They used Bordeaux wine to stew the chicken; the meat had a fragrant wine taste—light and not greasy. It was amazing."
Luca glanced down at his plate of tomato beef pasta, suddenly finding it less appetizing.
"Sweetheart, have you eaten? What did you have, and with how many people?"
Kate asked, sounding excited.
Luca smacked his lips and responded coolly, "Nothing much. The film crew wrapped today, so we had dinner at the MAYA restaurant on Fifth Avenue. We didn't order much, just some French escargot, Chinese roast duck, Mexican chicken quesadillas, and Turkish pot stew."
"Wow! You had all that today?"
Kate asked in surprise.
"Yes, of course!"
Luca wiped the corner of his mouth and stabbed a piece of tender beef with his fork, chewing slowly and pretending it was Parisian foie gras.
"But... didn't Ed tell me you were cooking dinner alone at home?"
Kate's voice suddenly turned sly.
*Cough, cough!*
Luca nearly choked on his beef.
"Hahaha!"
A burst of laughter came from the phone, with Kate's voice mixed in with others, probably Lima and Miranda. It sounded lively.
"So, Kate, did you call just to tease me?"
He gritted his teeth, annoyed.
"Haha, no, I just wanted to check on you and send you a little warmth. Feeling better now?"
"Not at all. I feel way worse."
Luca set down his fork and wiped his mouth with a napkin.
"Haha, maybe Lima can comfort you instead."
Kate called out, "Lima, come on! Use your sultry voice to comfort this lonely soul far away."
"No problem!"
Lima's voice came through the phone. "Luca, you're done filming?"
"Finished today."
"That's great! Come to Paris. We can walk the Champs-Élysées together, visit the Louvre, eat lots of delicious food, and I'll even sleep with you. How about that?"
Luca raised his eyebrows. The idea was tempting.
"I'd love to, but I can't. I promised Britney I'd be her backup dancer, so I have to rehearse tomorrow."
He sighed regretfully.
"Britney? Hmph, Luca, you're definitely cheating. Otherwise, why would you ditch Kate and me for Britney?"
Lima's voice held a playful grumble.
Luca shook his head. "Lima, don't be like that. I'm already sad enough, eating alone, watching TV alone. Do you really need to make me feel worse over the phone?"
"Alright, alright, I'm not mad. It's just... I care about you too much."
Lima's voice softened.
Luca sighed, feeling a little touched. Just as he was about to say something, he heard Kate shout, "Lima, stop bothering Luca. The game's starting!"
"Coming, Kate. But you know I don't like playing games," Lima muttered before raising her voice.
Luca could hear everything clearly. He rubbed his forehead. "Lima, I'm hanging up now. My beef pasta's getting cold."
"Okay, sweetheart. Eat up before it gets cold. And... I love you."
"I love you too."
Luca hung up, picked up his fork, twirled some noodles. They were cold now, but he didn't care.
After finishing his meal, Luca headed to the bedroom and began writing the script for *Step Up*.
This movie became one of the most successful dance films in Hollywood, with five sequels, proving its massive potential.
The story centered around two people from different worlds—the male and female leads (both white).
The male lead was a bad boy from the rough streets, while the female lead was an exceptional dance student at an elite performing arts school.
They were brought together by dance, sparking a passionate love story with an underlying American Dream vibe. It was like an upgraded version of *Honey*, but with a deeper, more meaningful plot.
**Scene One:**
Two vibrant dance studios: one, a luxurious, brightly lit ballet studio; the other, a cluttered, dimly lit auto repair shop.
Background music: a strong hip-hop beat.
Characters: male lead, female lead, several dancers.
**Scene Two:**
A chaotic bar party, filled with people dancing to hip-hop.
Background music: hip-hop.
Characters: male lead Tyler, his friends Mike and Kenneth (both Black), a girl street dancer, and her boyfriend PJ (also Black).
As he wrote this, Luca chuckled. He thought, "Using this many Black supporting characters should make Billy happy, right?"
He continued writing the second act:
The male lead flirts with the Black girl at the party, their dance moves seductive, making them the center of attention. This sparks jealousy in her boyfriend, PJ.
"Hey, stay away from my girl!"
PJ storms into the crowd, shoving Tyler hard.
"PJ, stop. We're just dancing," the Black girl protested.
"Shut up, you slut!" PJ shouted angrily.
"Yo, dude, she doesn't have your name tattooed on her. Why can't I dance with her?" Tyler shrugged, smiling nonchalantly.
"F***!"
A fight broke out between Tyler and PJ.
PJ, a big shot in the neighborhood with a bad temper, pulled out a gun and aimed it at Tyler.
Tyler's friend, Mike, stepped in to calm things down.
*Tap, tap, tap.*
At his computer, Luca typed quickly, recalling scenes and outlining the first half of the script in no time.
*Beep, beep, beep.*
At 10 p.m., the alarm went off.
He stretched and headed downstairs, turning on the TV.
*Sex and the City* was about to air.
His scene was in the first episode.
(End of chapter)
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