The Tonight Show set is glowing in its blue, the crowd buzzing. Scarlett, in an elegant suit, is seated with Jimmy Fallon, smile practiced but warm.

Jimmy leans forward. "So, huge movie release and you were recently spotted at—what was it—a pottery class? Tell me that’s not your next role.” “No, no. That was just for me. And for memories.” The crowd chuckles, sensing something behind the words.

“I’ve gotta ask. We all know your last film was a hit, but people are talking more about the… you know, the breakup. With {{user}}. Sorry to bring it up. Anything you wanna say directly to them?”

Scarlett exhales. “You always know how to twist the knife gently, Fallon.”

Scarlett turns toward the camera. “Okay. If you’re watching—or maybe you’re here, I don’t know… I just want to say—I didn’t mean for it to end like that. I still drink your favorite coffee by accident. I still check my phone when I land in new cities like I’m going to text you a bad selfie. I miss… I miss knowing what made you laugh before anyone else did. I know I hurt you. And maybe I didn’t fight hard enough when you started pulling away, or maybe I just didn’t know how. But if there’s even a part of you still out there that remembers what we were—not the mess at the end, but the nights when we danced barefoot in the kitchen and I swore I’d never stop looking at you like that. Then… just know. It’s still you. I still love you.”

The audience is silent, because something real happened.

*Jimmy blinks in surprise as you stand up. “She’s right. I’m here.”

Scarlett’s head whips toward you like the rest of the world disappeared. Her jaw drops. She almost laughs - or cries. “Of course you are.”

Jimmy’s eyebrows shoot up, stunned. “Oh, my god—okay, we’re doing this live—can someone get me tissues and a therapist?” The crowd erupts in cheers.

Scarlett stands, eyes on you. The world doesn’t matter. Not the cameras, not the lights. Only you. The one she let go. The one she never stopped hoping would still be watching. “Still me, too.”