Halle Berry as Rachel Moore
Tim Roth as David Bernstein
Cate Blanchett as Jill Marshall
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 The tip of light from her smoke burned with a crisp sound as it passed her lips.  She stood like a ghost staring out at the night before her in the window, it's solitude beckoning her closer.  She reached out with a hesitant hand to touch the ice forming on the glass with the bareness of her palm, it felt real.  It felt real.  The swirl of her ashen breath escaped from her and settled above her head as outside the darkening rain clouds loomed over the cityscape of Los Angeles.  Her body masked by the dark, a shadow silhouetted against the night.  A little fume from her cigarette fell to the floor beneath her feet.  She responded by slowly lowering her hand down and tapping the excess in a nearby crystal ashtray without a word.  The silence around her crept through her blood like nicotine.
 She knew that all of this was nothing more than some elaborate display.  Something of a show, nothing more.
 Her dark eyes adjusted to the light of the room, and in the reflection of the sliding doors of her balcony, she could see him fixing her supper.  He almost seemed to find delight in the smallest of things.  How she envied him that, how she hated him for that.
 "Would you like some wine, love, to go with dinner or do you want it before?" he called out to her, she smiled slightly at the lovely sound of his husky British voice.
 "Now would be fine, David.  I think I need a drink," Rachel replied, still not turning to face him.
 She watched his reflection, quietly in the window, he seemed to blend into the city beyond - like he was part of it.  The lights twinkling off his form, like the stars.
 She saw him move from the brightness of the kitchen and suddenly disappear as he walked past the door.  Then, all at once, he was behind her.
 The exquisitely warm sensation of his mouth gently bending to kiss her bare shoulder caused her to shiver a bit.  He reached around her and placed in her hand a small glass of spirits.  She took it with welcome.
 Slipping around, she sank into his arms, briefly and felt his lips capture hers as she tilted her face upwards.  His hot tongue slid into her mouth and kissed her for a moment, before he lifted her glass so that some of the heady liquid replaced him in her mouth.
 She drank it and returned to kissing him.  "You better finish dinner, or at this rate it will burn," she whispered, barely separated from under him.
 He smiled knowingly at her.  His emerald eyes flashing in the half light.  "Alright, but, promise a second course later."
 "Oh yes," she said, and grinned.
 As he walked away, her smile disappeared.  The shiver now becoming a chill.
 She followed his footsteps into the kitchen, standing there watching him silently.  It was as if she were trying to divine a way to get inside of him, as she lifted the cigarette to her lips for another drag.
 'Why the hell are you here?' she thought.  'Why do you care?'
 He sensed her and turned around.
 "Something wrong?" he asked.  She could see he was wearing one of her 'SEXY COOK' aprons.
 She giggled, wickedly at it.
 "Oh, the apron...funny.  It's all I could find," he excused.
 She wasn't laughing at the apron, it was the look of love he had for her in his eyes.
 'Wasn't that clever, how good an actor you are, David.'
 The look she gave him in return left him feeling anything but near to affection.
 "Have I done something to piss you off or are you just in a bad mood tonight, Rachel?" he asked, he plunked the knife he was holding into a nearby cutting board.  Leaning on the table, he gave her a serious look that seemed to speak volumes.  It was as if he were daring her to ruin his otherwise perfect night with her petty trivialities.
 "Nothing, forget it.  I was just giggling at a joke I heard earlier...it's nothing," she lied and walked away from him.  Sitting down off in a corner near the phone on a high stool, she hid her face in the shadows so that all that could be seen from her disembodied form was the single luminescence of her cigarette as she inhaled.
 Shaking his head, he shrugged it off and continued on making dinner.  "I'll never for the life of me figure out what is with you sometimes.  We have a great evening planned, you can't even be happy for more than five minutes, can you?"
 She said nothing, just sat there puffing away.
 "Well, I want to be here.  You can be a bitch all you want.  You can try to toss me out if you want, but I paid for dinner, I'd at least like the opportunity to make it before you do...thank you very much!"
 "Fuck, you get so angry so easy, David!  Damn!" came the voice from the corner finally.  She came forward into the light and grinned at him.
 Taking one look at her, this time he could see her expression had softened a bit.
 "Yeah, well, I'm not one of your experiments, Rachel!" he answered, bitterly.  Clearly still feeling distrustful of her mood swing.
 Smiling.  She walked around the kitchen island and took his arm.  He stopped cutting and looked at the lovely creature in front of him.  "If you weren't so damned attractive, I wouldn't let you get away with your shit, you know."
 "And...if I weren't you wouldn't be here, now would you?" she shot back.
 He had to admit she was right there.
 "Maybe..." he teased, and grabbed her rather roughly into his arms.  She loved his forceful nature and let him take her.  She wished he'd take her right on the cutting board in fact.
 He seemed to read her mind as he picked up her little svelte body and sat her in front of him right there amongst the radishes and the cilantro.  She fell back and sprawled her arms above her head as she felt him separate her soft knees and then her  tawny thighs with his long fingers.  It wasn't long after she forgot what they were even arguing about.

 (The next morning):

 The alarm on her nighttable bellowed.  At least it seemed like it.   Five a.m.  Way too early.
 Reaching across David's sleeping form next to her, she hit the snooze button and crawled back into him as she shut out the morning light and slept for a few more minutes.  He felt so warm.  She felt a blush come over her cheeks as he rolled over and cradled her, drowsily against his bare chest.
 A million miles away, on some beach somewhere, nothing but the two of them.  She knew that's where she was.  She began to drift off.
 Then, the irritation returned fifteen minutes later to plague her again.  Like an annoying fly that refused to stopping buzzing around her head.  The alarm was echoing in the room again.
 "Rachel, turn that thing off.  Stay in bed today," David grumbled in her ear as he nuzzled her shoulder.
 "I can't.  I have a shoot at six with Bev.  I have to go," she replied and tried to sit up, but he wouldn't let her.
 'Don't let me go!' she cried out in her thoughts.  It caused her to stop for a moment, a sense of panic washed over her and then, all at once, it was gone.
 "I'll take some shots of you later, Rach.  We'll send them to Bev with a love note.  Stay here!"
 "David, don't give me that shit.  Let me up, hon!"
 Reluctantly, he raised his arm from her and let her sit up in the bed.  She could feel the sun on her skin as with the remote control she opened the blinds.  David groaned and placed his pillow over his head.
 Grinning at him, she leaned over and removed the pillow from his handsome, dishevelled face.
 "God, you look so sexy in the morning...." she purred and placed his earlobe between her teeth, giving him a little nibble.
 He jumped a bit and with a disatisfied groan turned away from her.
 "But, grumpy as hell!"
 "Fuck you!"  he grumbled to the wall.
 She laughed slightly at his distemper.  She knew she wanted to stay too.  Absently, she looked up to greet the dawn beyond their bedroom with her eyes.  Appraising the scenery, she saw nothing but white light, featureless...barren.  She didn't want to step into that world.  There was nothing there.
 Slowly and reluctantly, she got up from bed and walked into her nearby bathroom, throwing a robe over her naked body as she did.  She almost seemed afraid to face her reflection back in that mirror.  Beautiful as she was.  It was so superficial.  It was just fake, after all...
  As she stepped in front of the image she saw, her eyes looked hollow.  She didn't know the person there.  Where had she gone?  It was a pretty photograph.  She struck a little pose with her hands on her hips and a smile painted upon her face.
 'That's it, darling!  Now one more time for me, sweetie.  Smile!'
 She did exactly as she was told.
 But, then that darkness like a grey cloud washed over her.  Her eyes turned steely and she felt a sense of fear creep into her bones.  She was a stranger.  It gave her the chills as she shuddered and averted her gaze.
 "Damnit!  This has been a long day and it hasn't even fucking begun yet!" she cursed and reached her toothbrush.  Continuing to get ready, she forced herself into her day.

 (Downtown Los Angeles, May 3rd, 2002):

 The din of the afternoon rush hour crowd.  Part businessmen, part wanna-be business execs for major Hollywood studios, those darlings of the screen and the normal riffraff struggled equally amongst men to make their way across town to their varied destinations.  This day, Rachel was amongst them.  She felt she had more in common with the riffraff but looked to belong to the darlings.  What an illusion, eh?
 This caused her to laugh as someone caught her eye and winked at her.  She may have been flattered, if it hadn't been for the fact that the woman was over 80.
 "Shit!" Rachel cursed and shrugged it off as she reached the newstand in front of the subway station.  She plunked a few quarters in the machine, and stuck her hand in to snatch out a copy of the L.A. News.  Closing it resoundedly, she slipped into the crowd like an enigma.
 It wasn't long until she reached her required destination - the Beverly Hills Mode Couture building on Elm and Sussex.