Luc Besson listened as the casting director spoke, then nodded slowly to himself with a trace of regret. He turned back for another look at the girl, who clearly had not given him Mathilda at all.
Then something clicked.
"Wait." He sat up. "The original Manhattan's Miraculous Girl — actually, that character fits her perfectly. Jack Thompson is her father. Well — stepfather, different last name. So the 'miraculous girl' in Jack's story... the prototype was her all along!"
Besson said it with the expression of a man who had just solved a puzzle, eyes wide with dawning realization.
Neither Maya nor the others in the room had expected that. The French director had taken one look at Maya Hansen and deduced the truth almost exactly.
And they were all clearly commenting on her in what they assumed were inaudible voices. Maya had heard every single word, clear as a bell. Her expression stayed perfectly neutral. Inside, she'd already cursed Luc Besson half a dozen times.
The casting director finally coughed and said, "Hansen. We've seen what we needed. Please step outside and wait to hear from us."
Maya nodded, gave a small bow, and walked out.
'Follow-up notification.' Right. The polite way to say you're out. Did they really think she couldn't hear them?
Jack saw her calm face coming down the corridor and asked quickly, "Well? How'd it go?"
"Not selected. Let's go."
On hearing that, Jack didn't seem particularly disappointed. "Give me a minute — I'll go find Jennifer. Her slot's coming up and I should take James while she's in there."
Maya nodded and let him go. She stayed at the corridor entrance and sat back down on the small bench.
She hadn't followed Jack toward Jennifer's section on purpose. Four people together, hovering over someone auditioning for a bit part that was barely on screen — that was overkill. People would stare.
She'd barely sat down when she heard footsteps on the staircase.
Maya looked at the girl who appeared and studied her for a long moment, to be sure.
Yes. The real Mathilda. Natalie Portman.
Maya found her gaze lingering, and her thoughts started to drift: I wonder if this version of Portman ends up dating a thunder god. Or some other kind of alien.
Natalie, on the receiving end of a prolonged stare from a very pretty stranger, felt her face heat up. She finally cracked. "Hey. What are you looking at?"
Before she could stop herself, Maya blurted: "I was wondering how you ended up with an alien for a boyfriend."
Natalie blinked at her, completely confused.
Maya caught herself a beat too late. Her face went hot. She corrected quickly: "What I meant was — do you believe aliens exist? And if they did, would you ever date one?"
Even she could tell how wooden that sounded. Incredibly stilted.
Without waiting for an answer, she changed course entirely. "Anyway — are you here to audition? I'm Maya Hansen. I just came out."
Natalie had been about to write this strange girl off. Then she heard the name.
"You're Maya Hansen? The actual Maya Hansen? 'Twin Stars of Manhattan' — the one always mentioned alongside Tony Stark?"
Maya felt a small private surge of satisfaction. Years of effort—apparently not wasted. Though outwardly she said, "That's an exaggeration. Tony Stark is in a completely different league. And he's over ten years older than me — we're not even the same generation."
"Oh wow — Maya, can I call you Maya? Everyone in my class knows who you are."
"Of course. Can I call you Nat?"
"Yes! That's what all my friends call me." Natalie's expression had gone from wary to warm. "I go to a middle school on Long Island. I heard you're starting at Municipal Tech High School?"
"You already know about that?"
"Are you serious? You're the first person in years to get the full scholarship package. People were talking about it all the way over in our district."
Maya nodded, understanding. It made sense. Long Island was right next to New York — technically, a substantial portion of New York City was on Long Island. Something like that would travel.
The two of them talked easily for a few more minutes, right there in the corridor. The age gap between them was almost nothing. The conversation flowed — about school, about the audition, about the neighborhood. Natalie was lively and a little star-struck; Maya was dry and deadpan in a way that seemed to make Natalie laugh rather than put her off.
By the time Jack returned with Jennifer and James in tow, Maya was standing at the corridor entrance in a quiet but genuine conversation with the girl who would, in a matter of months, become the most talked-about young actress of the decade.
Not that Maya mentioned she already knew that.