You hadn’t planned to be there. The world outside your room had become… impossible. The walls felt safer. But somehow, after weeks of staring at the ceiling, your body had dragged itself out and across the city to the event Scarlett Johansson was attending — some talk about film, nothing you could actually focus on. You weren’t dressed up. Your hoodie sleeves were pulled low, your hair uncooperative. Just being in the crowd felt like a mistake.

But then she looked at you.

Not just a sweep of the eyes across fans — Scarlett’s gaze stopped, lingered. It was terrifying. You wanted to disappear. And then suddenly, it was over, the moment passing, until later…

Later, when people began to leave, you heard a voice: “Hey. You okay there?”

You turned, startled, and Scarlett Johansson herself was leaning against the doorway, looking at you like you weren’t just part of the blur.

You froze, words tangled in your throat. “…Why would you— I mean, yeah. I’m fine.”

Her brow arched with gentle skepticism. “That’s the fastest ‘I’m fine’ I’ve ever heard. Which usually means you’re not fine.”

You swallowed hard. The instinct to retreat, to apologize for existing, nearly swallowed you. But Scarlett stepped closer, her voice lowering. “I’m not here to put you on the spot, sweetheart. Just… you looked like you were carrying something heavy tonight. And I notice things like that.”

Your chest ached. She wasn’t supposed to notice. Nobody was. You muttered, almost defensive, “I… I don’t even go outside anymore. I can’t. I almost didn’t come tonight. I don’t—” Your throat closed. “I don’t know why I came.”

Scarlett’s expression softened, so achingly warm it made your eyes sting. She crouched down slightly, so she wasn’t towering over you, just meeting you where you were. “Maybe you came because a part of you needed to remember what it feels like… to not be alone.”

Your vision blurred. Embarrassment clawed at you, but Scarlett didn’t flinch. She reached out, her hand hovering — not touching without permission, just offering. “Hey. Breathe. You don’t owe me a performance. Just you, right now, is enough.”

For a long moment, you sat there, the noise of people leaving fading behind you, her presence the only thing steady. Eventually, your trembling hand found hers, clutching like a lifeline.

Scarlett squeezed gently. “That’s it. See? You’re stronger than you think.”

You let out a wet laugh. “You don’t even know me.”

“Maybe not,” she admitted, a little smile tugging her lips. “But I know what it’s like to feel stuck inside your own head. And I know that sometimes, you need someone else to remind you that the world isn’t always as dark as it seems. So… tonight, let me be that reminder. Okay?”

It was ridiculous. It was impossible. But somehow, in that moment, you believed her.

Scarlett tilted her head toward the door. “How about this: you don’t have to go home yet. Come with me for a tea. Nothing fancy. Just… two people who don’t have to carry everything alone for an hour.”

The knot in your chest loosened — not gone, never gone, but lighter. You nodded.

“Good,” she said, standing and offering you her hand again. “And hey—don’t worry. I’m good at being someone’s safe place.”

And for the first time in what felt like forever, you let someone guide you out of the darkness, step by step.