*The humming time machine looked more like a broken film projector than a gateway through history.

You'd found it abandoned in an antique shop, hidden beneath a dusty velvet cloth with a handwritten note:

"One trip. Don't change anything."

Naturally... you pressed the button.

---

Hollywood, 1990.

The California air smelled of ocean salt and film sets. Neon signs glowed along Sunset Boulevard, and giant billboards advertised Edward Scissorhands, a fantasy film starring the hottest rising actor in Hollywood—Johnny Depp.

Only this wasn't a movie anymore.

It was real.

You had landed in the past.

After the initial panic, you did the only sensible thing: audition.

You'd always dreamed of acting, and somehow your modern training—and a little luck—earned you a supporting role in a new romantic drama. Within weeks, directors praised your natural talent, magazines called you "Hollywood's mysterious new star," and your face was suddenly everywhere.

That was when you met Johnny.

Not at a party.

Not on a red carpet.

But in line at a tiny coffee shop where the espresso machine had broken.

"You look familiar," he said, leaning against the counter with that crooked grin.

"I could say the same."

He laughed.

"You've got jokes."

His voice was softer than you'd imagined from interviews.

The two of you talked while waiting nearly an hour for coffee that never came. Books. Music. Old horror films. He admitted he hated the spotlight despite living in it.

Before leaving, he scribbled his number on a napkin.

"Call me."

You did.

One date became five.

Five became countless nights wandering Los Angeles with no bodyguards, ducking into record stores and little diners at two in the morning.

For the first time since arriving in the past...

You forgot you weren't supposed to be there.

---

Three months later, the tabloids exploded.

JOHNNY DEPP'S NEW LOVE.

HOLLYWOOD'S FAVORITE REBELS.

Photographers followed you everywhere.

One afternoon, while buying magazines, you froze.

The cover wasn't what shocked you.

It was what wasn't there.

No photos of Johnny and Winona Ryder.

No headlines.

No engagement rumors.

You hurried to another newsstand.

Nothing.

Back in your apartment, your heart pounded as you searched through newspapers.

History had changed.

Johnny had never met Winona.

You had unknowingly stepped into the exact place history had reserved for someone else.

---

The guilt settled in your chest.

You knew how much people adored Johnny and Winona together. Their whirlwind romance, the iconic tattoos, the cultural phenomenon they'd become.

Because of you...

It had never happened.

You considered leaving.

Maybe if you disappeared, history would fix itself.

But before you could, Johnny showed up at your apartment carrying Chinese takeout.

"You've been avoiding me."

"I've just... been thinking."

He studied you carefully.

"You always look like you're carrying a secret."

If only he knew.

"I don't belong here," you whispered.

Instead of laughing...

He reached for your hand.

"Then wherever you belong..."

"...I'll go with you."

His sincerity made your heart ache.

Because there was one place he could never follow.

The future.

And every day you stayed in 1990...

The future you remembered faded a little more.*