After dealing with the theme park design, Laila finally had some leisure time. She had been quite exhausted lately, and she thought that taking a walk outside would be a good way to relax. However, when she opened her phone, she realized that she still hadn't found anyone she could call a friend or meet up with for tea.
She had considered making friends before, but there was a saying that "it's lonely at the top," and from her current position, finding a genuine friend was already quite challenging.
When regular people saw her, they either turned into fans or became anonymous passersby, and very few would genuinely consider her as a friend. Even if there were such people, it would require tremendous luck to cross paths in the vast sea of faces.
Unfortunately, her colleagues were all at least twenty years older than her. While talking about movies with them occasionally was fine, the thought of having a heart-to-heart conversation with them was something she didn't even want to contemplate.
As for wealthy individuals of her status, she had never had a good impression of them due to her past experiences. In her previous life, she had to schmooze with them all day long to secure sponsorships, and she had seen too many unsavory things that had left her with a strong aversion to this group.
Moreover, she disliked attending parties and balls, and even the charity auctions that many people enjoyed were usually just a matter of donating money to her. She was no longer the innocent little Laila who had grown up in a hospital bed; she was a woman who had seen a lot of darkness. So, she was well aware of what the scrutiny directed at her meant. While socializing, those sinister glances from others made her feel disgusted.
Of course, not all wealthy heirs were wastrels; it was just that the people she had encountered in her previous life were of that type. The truly successful second-generation individuals would have no reason to associate with her, a small-time director. Why would they invest in her films? They had accomplished directors with established track records to choose from; who would care about her?
This was a dilemma – nothing seemed to work. The only person who could pass as both a brother and a friend was the eccentric forensic scientist, Zeni, but he was elusive and hard to track down. It was probably more likely to summon Roy than find Zeni.
Unfortunately, Roy was busy memorizing lyrics and correcting pronunciation, so she couldn't disturb him. Therefore, after enjoying a delicious lunch at a pre-arranged restaurant, she strolled along the streets to visit a nearby bookstore. Her bodyguards were still following her at a distance, not interfering with her leisurely walk while avoiding drawing too much attention.
Laila wanted to take advantage of this free time to visit a bookstore. She planned to browse and see if there were any interesting new books to add to her collection at home. At the same time, she also wanted to see if there were any potential works she could purchase the rights to, enriching her future film production plans.
The smell inside bookstores was something she loved dearly, especially the fresh scent that wafted through the air when flipping the pages of new books.
A good book could provide many things—a wonderful, fantastical journey, a bowl of heartwarming soul food, or even a sigh over history's complexities.
"Ah, sorry!"
As someone passed by, their large bag accidentally bumped into Laila's back, causing her to stagger momentarily. Thankfully, she managed to steady herself by grabbing onto a bookshelf and didn't embarrassingly fall to the ground.
"It's really my fault. Are you okay?" The person quickly apologized and reached out to help her.
Laila waved her hand, declining his assistance, though she knew very well that being hit by a backpack filled with heavy items like that couldn't be entirely fine. She just didn't want to attract too much attention.
The person was a young man in his mid-twenties, carrying several paper bags and wearing a backpack filled with items as if he had just ransacked the bookstore.
"I'm really sorry, I took too many things. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry!" The man apologized one after another, but when he lowered his head, a pile of booklets fell out of the paper bag he was holding.
"Oh, sh..." The man was about to curse when he suddenly remembered that a beautiful girl was standing in front of him, and he immediately swallowed the remaining half of the syllable.
He felt that he was so unlucky today. He should have gone home and put his things down before buying books, instead of messing up everything just to save some travel expenses and time.
He didn't need to look to guess how ridiculous his embarrassed appearance was in the eyes of others, so he didn't speak anymore but lowered his head to pick up the books on the ground one by one.
Laila knelt and helped him pick up a few books. When she got them in her hands, she realized that those books were all comics with color pages. When talking about comics in the United States, DC's Superman, and Batman, as well as Marvel's Captain America, Thor, etc. come to mind. Unlike various types of comics in Japan, there seems to be only one type of mainstream superhero comics that I can think of here.
"I'm sorry." The young man had picked up the other books and looked somewhat embarrassed as he glanced at the comic books Laila was holding.
He knew that people outside often thought that only those who didn't have a proper job or children liked comic books. Although he considered this perception completely unreasonable, just the thought that the girl in front of him might think the same made him feel awkward.
Laila smiled and handed the comic books back to him. "Do you like Steven?"
The young man paused for a moment, then his eyes lit up. "You like comics too?"
The reason he asked was that if someone didn't like comics, they would probably just call the character "Captain America" instead of "Steven."
Her question made him feel like he had found a companion. If this pretty girl in front of him liked comics as well, maybe they could have a lot in common, and perhaps he could even invite her for coffee or something.
"Yes, I like comics," Laila said with a smiling glance, as she didn't reveal that her greater interest was in the profit that comic book adaptations into movies could bring.
Her attitude had already conveyed everything. The young man didn't know how long it had been since he had met someone who not only liked comics but also smiled at the same thing he did. The looks of disdain he often received from others seemed to pale in comparison.
"Hello, I'm Owen, Owen Felton." He quickly extended his hand towards her.
Laila quirked her lips and shook his hand lightly. "Hello, I'm Laila."
Someone once said that during self-introductions, you could tell a lot about a person's character. Generally, those who introduced themselves with "I am" tended to be more confident, while those who used "My name is" might come across as more gentle and friendly.
After her self-introduction, Laila couldn't help but think about this, feeling like there might be some truth to it.