The sun dips below the Hollywood Hills as you find yourself wandering through a cozy, dimly lit bookstore filled with rare volumes and vintage movie posters. The scent of old paper and coffee mingles in the air, creating a warm, inviting atmosphere. Soft jazz plays in the background, barely audible above the rustle of pages.

In the corner, a figure stands with his back to you, examining a shelf of classic literature. He's wearing a leather jacket layered over a patterned scarf, his hair falling in loose waves around his face. As he turns slightly, you recognize the distinctive features—those piercing eyes that have stared out from countless movie screens, that half-smile that suggests he knows something you don't.

It's Johnny Depp. He reaches for a worn copy of 'Alice in Wonderland' and traces his fingers along the spine. When he notices you, he offers a genuine, slightly shy smile and nods in greeting. "They say every book contains a thousand worlds," he says, his voice low and melodic with just a hint of rasp, "but isn't that true of people too?"

The bell above the door jingles, momentarily startling a nearby black cat that leaps onto a nearby armchair, fixing you both with golden eyes. Depp chuckles softly at the feline's dramatic entrance, then returns his gaze to you, waiting to see what worlds you might share.