Leonardo, who had been staring dazedly at the statuette in his hand, was startled back to reality by the applause. Only then did he remember—he still had something to say.
He took a deep breath, steadied himself, clutched the statuette tightly, and spoke into the microphone, his voice trembling slightly:
"Thank you! Thank you all so much! Thank you to the Academy! And to all the other nominees—your performances were incredible."
"The Departed is the result of our entire team's effort—the tireless dedication of our amazing crew. I'm truly honored to have worked with all of you."
"First, I want to thank my brother, Martin Meyers. Martin, you're an incredible guy. And next, director Martin Scorsese—Old Martin, you made a phenomenal film and gave me a deeper understanding of cinema. I'm proud to work with you. You're a genius beyond words. Oh, and our cinematographer Michael Balmus—thank you for your extraordinary work! Thank you to everyone on The Departed team, and to my personal team..."
"I also want to thank Katie Jones, the casting director of my very first film, and Mr. Rich, for giving me my start. And of course, my parents—none of this would've been possible without you. To my friends—I love you. I'm sure you already know that in your hearts."
"I'd like to take a brief moment to say something else. As many of you know, I'm a passionate advocate for environmental protection. I hope we can stand behind world leaders who fight pollution—not defend it—and who don't just speak for big corporations. Let's act for the sake of humanity, for the billions of poor and vulnerable people, for our children's children, and for those whose voices have been drowned out by greed and politics."
"And finally, thank you again for sharing this moment with me tonight. Let's not take our peaceful existence on this planet for granted. I don't believe this award is something I'm simply entitled to. I will carry what I said tonight in my heart. Thank you."
Applause erupted.
Leonardo stepped off the stage.
"Well?" Martin asked with a grin. "How does it feel?"
Leonardo was silent for a moment, then said, "It's... a strange feeling. Before I got it, I wanted it so badly—really craved it. But after holding it in my hands, I just felt... kind of..."
"Dull? Like post-victory blues? Post-Nut Clarity?" Martin cut in with a smirk.
Leonardo nodded solemnly. "Exactly."
Not far away, Old Nelson overheard and chuckled. "If Old Martin heard you say that, he'd probably clobber you."
Just then, Martin Scorsese—seated beside Jack Nicholson—murmured, "I don't know why, but I had a strong feeling I'd win today."
The presenter, Francis Ford Coppola, read from the envelope:
"This year's nominees for Best Director are:
Martin Scorsese — The DepartedClint Eastwood — Letters from Iwo JimaMartin Meyers — 127 HoursAlejandro González Iñárritu — BabelPaul Greengrass — United 93"
A buzz rippled through the audience.
Martin Meyers—at just 21—was nominated for Best Director.
---
[GodOfReader: Wait a damn minute, 21 years old? Huh? isn't he supposed to be 17-18 right now?!?]
---
"Wow, 21 and nominated for Best Director? That's gotta be a record."
"I think it is. Wasn't John Singleton the youngest before?"
"Yeah, Singleton was 24 when he was nominated for Boyz n the Hood in 1992. Martin just broke that record."
"If he wins, it'll be front-page news."
"Not likely. It's probably Old Martin's year. The Academy owes him one."
Coppola opened the envelope with a knowing smile. "And the Oscar goes to..."
"Martin Scorsese — The Departed!"
Cheers erupted.
Old Martin jumped up with more energy than Leonardo, shaking hands and hugging everyone around him. By the time he reached the stage, he was already in tears.
"Congratulations, old man."
Francis Coppola embraced him and handed him the Oscar with a warm smile.
Martin Scorsese took it with one hand, wiping away tears with the other. He launched into his speech like a machine gun, unable to contain his excitement.
"Thanks! Thank you! Thank you, Francis!"
"Thanks! Thanks! Oh God, please—please—thank you!"
"Could someone check the envelope again? Did I really win? I mean, I'm honored—so honored—especially to receive this from an old friend. Francis and I have been friends for 37 years."
"I'm overwhelmed."
"I want to thank Meyers Films. Thank you, Martin Jr.—you're the best!"
"Thank you, Leonardo! Thank you, Matt! Thank you, Jack—"
Down below, Nicholson grumbled, "Damn it, he thanked me after Matt."
Martin chuckled. "Be happy. You're just a supporting actor."
On stage, Scorsese continued to rattle off names like a runaway train:
"Thanks to our producers—Drew Barrymore, Graham King, Mark Brown. My old friend Joe Reidy—we've worked together for 20 years."
"Thank you, Rick Yorn, John Lesher, Chris Donnelly, Ari Emanuel..."
"The adapted script by young Martin blew my mind. The original film by Andrew Lau from Hong Kong—it's a masterpiece of Asian cinema."
"Cinematography by Michael Balmus, music by Howard Shore. And of course, my old friend Thelma Schoonmaker."
"And to all the people who've supported me over the years—strangers who would stop me on the street and say, 'You deserve an Oscar.' I'd be walking into a doctor's office, an elevator—and someone would say, 'You should win one.' I thank them all."
"My long-time friends, everyone in this room tonight who wished me luck, my family—I thank you. This moment is yours, too."
"To my daughter Kathy, who worked on this film. To my wife Helen, a proud Dominican. And to our little girl Francesca, who's seven and watching this live—Francesca, stay up for ten more minutes, then we'll party at the hotel."
"Okay, I'll see you in the morning. Thank you!"
The crowd rose in thunderous applause.
After more than thirty years of chasing the Oscar, Martin Scorsese had finally fulfilled his dream.
And then came the final award of the night: Best Picture.
The winner?
The Departed.
Martin Meyers took the stage again to accept the Oscar from none other than Jack Nicholson.
Yes—this old rascal was the presenter.
Martin took the statuette, turned to the mic, and said:
"I've already thanked everyone who deserves it. And though I know the organizers want me to ramble for ad revenue, I'll keep this short."
"It brings me so much joy to stand here tonight and see Martin Scorsese finally win an Oscar. This man's been waiting decades, and tonight, the Academy did right by him."
"And Leonardo—that kid finally got his wish. Just now he whispered that he can finally ignore the old guys at the Academy."
Leonardo laughed from his seat and raised a playful fist, earning a roar of laughter.
Martin smiled. "Leon, if you wanna throw hands, let's settle it later. But for now, let me wrap this up."
"Alright, nothing more to say. Thank you all!"
Laughter and applause echoed across the venue.