162: Redoing my Life, Break Out

I lay sprawled across the bed, my laptop propped on my legs as I watched an interview Margot gave for her movie Bonnie and Clyde.

“So, we all know you’re dating Daniel Adler,” the interviewer said, a knowing smile on her face.

“Damn it,” I muttered, rolling my eyes. Why did they always have to ask about me? The focus should’ve been on Margot and her movie, not our relationship.

The interviewer continued, asking, “Any plans to do a movie together?”

Margot laughed lightly, brushing the question off with her usual charm. “Oh, Daniel’s incredible at what he does, and I’m his biggest fan,” she said, adding, “If he and I agree on a story, then sure, I’d do it.”

Thankfully, the interviewer dropped the topic after that. But I knew others wouldn’t. Every interview Margot gave seemed to find a way to derail itself, focusing on her relationship with me rather than her work. It was frustrating, and I could only imagine how she felt.

I shut the laptop with a snap, letting out a sigh. My overactive imagination started conjuring up worst-case scenarios—Margot growing resentful, feeling overshadowed by my career, blaming me for stealing the spotlight. It was stupid, but my brain had a way of spiraling into unnecessary scenarios.

The door to the bedroom creaked open, pulling me from my thoughts. Margot stepped in, holding two dresses over her arms. One was a sleek black gown, simple yet elegant; the other was a sunny yellow dress that radiated warmth and vibrancy.

“Which one do you think I should wear for the promotional event in the UK?” she asked, walking toward me and holding up the options.

I sat up, still annoyed by the interview. “Can you believe that guy? What kind of question is, ‘Is Daniel Adler going to put you in one of his movies?’”

Margot looked at me quizzically, tilting her head. “What are you talking about?”

“I mean, don’t you find it annoying?” I pressed, gesturing toward the now-closed laptop. “I keep seeing articles and interviews calling you ‘Daniel Adler’s girlfriend.’”

Margot laughed softly, laying the dresses over the chair by the bed. “But I am your girlfriend.”

“Yes, but…” I started, fumbling to articulate my thoughts.

“Well, you are more famous than I am,” Margot added, her tone light and unaffected. “That’s how it works.”

Her calm demeanor threw me off completely. She seemed entirely at ease, as if the whole thing didn’t bother her at all.

“But aren’t you—?” I began, only for Margot to interrupt me again.

She smiled, stepping closer to me. “No, I’m not annoyed. I know how the world works. Daniel, you’re vastly more famous than I am—of course people are going to latch onto that. Besides…” She leaned down slightly, looking me square in the eye, a mischievous glint in her gaze. “Maybe in a few years, everyone will be calling you ‘Margot Robbie’s boyfriend.’”

I blinked, caught off guard by her playful jab. “Let’s hope that day comes, then,” I said, trying to suppress a grin.

Margot straightened up, holding out the two dresses again. “Now, seriously. Which one? Black or yellow?”

I glanced at them, my former irritation melting away as I pointed to the yellow one without hesitation. “The yellow. Definitely.”

Margot smiled warmly, a twinkle in her eye. “Thank you, darling.” She kissed me on the forehead, leaving a lingering sense of calm in her wake.

I sat there for a moment, watching her. I felt a twinge of guilt for letting my mind spiral earlier. Here she was, confident, unbothered, and ready to face the world head-on. I couldn’t help but admire her for it.

The movie Bonnie and Clyde had received a limited release in December—enough to qualify for awards season—but it had been painfully small. I hated that it had been like that. Thankfully, Universal decided to go all in for a wider worldwide theatrical release after the positive reception. With strong word-of-mouth and glowing reviews, the studio ramped up its marketing efforts and expanded its screen count.

I may have played a small part in convincing them, leveraging my ongoing collaboration with Universal on the Fast and Furious franchise. A few executives, eager to stay on my good side, seemed more than willing to boost the film. This was Margot’s big break—the movie I knew would launch her into Hollywood’s big leagues.

As noon rolled around, a team arrived at our place to help Margot get ready. They moved with a kind of coordinated chaos, preparing her for the evening. By the time they were done, she looked stunning, radiating both glamour and an understated elegance that seemed uniquely her. As afternoon gave way to evening, we finally stepped out the door and into a sleek black car sent by Universal.

As we began our ride to the premiere, I noticed Margot was fidgety, her perfectly manicured hands twisting nervously. “Oh boy,” she muttered, half to herself. “I don’t think I can do this.”

I looked at her, confused. “What are you talking about? You’ve done this a million times—whether it’s with me or for your previous movies.”

“This is different,” she said, her voice tight. “This is a big one—my first lead in a major movie. What if I trip? Or fall? Or… or just mess everything up?”

“Take a deep breath,” I said calmly, turning toward her. “You’re going to be fine.”

Her breathing quickened, her eyes darting to the window as if considering making a break for it. “It’s too much pressure,” she said, shaking her head.

“Mags,” I said gently, “the movie’s fantastic. You were incredible in it. People love you. You might even get an Oscar nomination for this.”

“That just makes it worse!” she snapped, her tone sharp with panic. “More pressure!”

“Okay, no Oscars, then,” I said quickly, raising my hands in mock surrender. “Forget I said it. Maybe a Golden Globe instead?”

That earned me a small, reluctant laugh as the golden globes were already over. Her shoulders slowly dropped as she exhaled deeply, her posture easing from the rigid tension that had overtaken her. “Okay,” she said, her voice softer now. “Okay. I’m alright.”

“Good,” I said, glancing out the window. “Because we’re already here.”

Margot turned to look outside, and her eyes widened. The car slowed to a stop in front of a sea of people—fans, reporters, photographers. The lights were blinding, and the faint roar of the crowd buzzed through the closed windows.

“Oh my God,” Margot whispered, her nerves returning. “That’s a lot of people.”

I reached over and took her hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. “It’s going to be fine,” I said, meeting her eyes. “Just take a deep breath… Let’s take a walk, alright?”

Margot looked at me, her nerves slowly dissolving into a small, grateful smile. “Alright…take a walk,” she said softly, her grip tightening around my hand.

The door opened, and we were ushered out into the chaos of the premiere. Margot stepped out gracefully, and for a moment, the world seemed to pause as the cameras flashed, capturing the start of her moment in the spotlight. She glanced at me, and I gave her a wink as I took her arm and led her forward.

We walked the red carpet together, stopping every few feet to pose for photos. She handled it all with grace, her previous panic forgotten as she answered questions from journalists, exuding the charm that I knew would win over audiences everywhere. I was asked a few questions as well, but I kept my answers brief, deflecting most of them back to her or the film itself.

It was immediately clear that this was a much bigger event than the limited release back in December. Universal had pulled out all the stops this time. I still couldn’t understand why they hadn’t done this from the start, but considering some of the Universal execs I’d met, it wasn’t exactly surprising. Their decision-making skills weren’t always top-notch.

The cast was great. Margot, of course, played Bonnie; Garrett Hedlund took on the role of Clyde—a familiar face to me and many others from his role in Tron. Bryan Cranston and John Hawkes rounded out the leads as Frank Lamar and Maney Gault, the two lawmen chasing the notorious duo.

As we walked into the theater, I met Bryan Cranston, and we struck up a conversation.

“Margot is very talented,” Bryan said, smiling warmly.

“I know,” I replied with a grin.

He chuckled and added, “You two are going to be quite the power couple.”

I laughed, shaking my head at the thought. Cranston was right—we could be quite the power couple. We had been dating for almost a year and a half now, and it had been great. I hoped it would stay that way.

Bryan and I would cross paths again in May when Batman was set to be released—something he told me he was looking forward to.

Margot later introduced me to Garrett Hedlund and John Hawkes, who were both very polite. I also met the director, Evan Sinclair, a relatively new face in the industry. He seemed a little overwhelmed by the attention and even asked about the possibility of working with me someday.

Unfortunately, I was soon roped into a conversation with a few Universal executives. They were practically buzzing with excitement, eager to discuss future collaborations. For now, I was only tied to Fast & Furious and a potential Riddick project I was working on with Vin Diesel. I had no real plans to extend my relationship with Universal beyond that, but for Margot’s sake, I tolerated their hollow flattery and forced enthusiasm.

There were some developments I discussed with them regarding Fast Five. As I had somewhat expected, The Rock’s ego—every bit as big as his biceps—couldn’t be contained.

In this world, my attempted meddling with WWE storylines had set off a chain reaction. The Rock had competed at SummerSlam and lost to CM Punk, thanks to my behind-the-scenes machinations. I had carefully scheduled Fast Five so he wouldn’t be able to headline WrestleMania 29, which had originally happened in my old world.

But Vince McMahon, ever the persuasive puppet master, had somehow convinced The Rock to return to the ring. Against all odds, he was now set to main event WrestleMania anyway.

What truly surprised me was that the studio didn’t mind him wrestling. In my old world, movie studios explicitly banned him from stepping into the ring during production. I’d thought that scheduling Fast Five during WrestleMania season would force him to call it off. But I had misremembered the timeline; the studio only grew wary after he actually got injured at WrestleMania 29, causing delays to the film he was working on at the time. Since that injury never happened here, no such clause existed.

The Rock was free to juggle both his Hollywood commitments and WWE appearances—and juggle he would, as he seemed dead set on making a grand showing at the biggest wrestling event of the year. He’d even sent me tickets to the Royal Rumble next week, so I’d get to see how it all  unfolded in person. I was excited. The possibilities were endless, and I hoped it wouldn’t turn into just another Rock vs. Cena match.

I finally managed to free myself from the execs as it was time to watch the movie. I found my seat next to Margot. She reached for my hand, squeezing it lightly as the studio logo flickered on the screen.

The film followed the rise and fall of Bonnie Parker and Clyde Barrow, who go from small-time criminals to infamous outlaws during the Great Depression. While the story highlighted their fiery romance and rebellious nature, it also delved into the human cost of their crime spree. The narrative alternated between their perspective and that of the two relentless lawmen pursuing them.

Act 1 introduced the characters: Bonnie, a waitress with dreams of fame, and Clyde, a charismatic drifter with a penchant for trouble. They meet, fall in love, and Bonnie, drawn to Clyde’s charm and ambition, joins him in a life of crime. Their first few robberies are clumsy but thrilling, drawing them closer together.

Act 2 sees their crimes escalate. As the body count rises, they become larger-than-life figures in the public’s imagination. While some romanticize them as modern-day Robin Hoods, the authorities see them as what they truly are—dangerous killers. The perspective shifts to the two lawmen, Frank Lamar and Maney Gault, as they doggedly close in on the couple.

By Act 3, the tension reaches its breaking point. The seasoned lawmen finally catch up to the infamous duo. With their options narrowing, Bonnie and Clyde face the iconic ambush that ends their lives. The final scene is haunting, depicting the brutal reality of their violent end.

There was one scene, however, that stood out for more personal reasons: Margot had a topless scene—tastefully done, but still a bit awkward for me to watch.

I leaned toward her as the scene played and whispered with a grin, “If this doesn’t take your career to the next level, I don’t know what will.”

She gave me a playful jab on the arm. “Behave, and you might get to see that again tonight,” she teased with a sly smile.

I smirked, turning my attention back to the screen as the movie continued.

When the credits rolled, the room erupted into a standing ovation. The applause was deafening, echoing through the theater. While Margot had been overwhelmed with emotion at the limited release premiere, tonight she seemed more composed, though I could still see the glimmer of emotion in her eyes. Her fingers tightened around mine as she took it all in, her face glowing with pride.

I leaned closer and whispered, “You did it.”

She laughed softly, turning to kiss me on the cheek.

This was her moment, and she had earned every second of it.