The line clicked — a beat of static — and Vinny's voice came through, easy and warm.
"Yo, Sammy. You good? Got home okay?"
Samuel smirked faintly, shifting his weight as he stepped off the curb.
"Yeah. Didn't drown or get arrested, if that's what you're asking."
Vinny chuckled on the other end.
Samuel let the words slip out, dry and casual.
"Calling me already? Thought I had at least a three-day cool-off period."
Vinny barked a laugh.
"Hey, don't flatter yourself," he said, still chuckling. "I got work problems. New script came in. Big studio. Everyone's hyped — except me."
Samuel stayed quiet, listening.
"I read it twice and still didn't care," Vinny said, half-laughing. "Medellín made me feel something. This? Nothing."
Samuel leaned casually against the porch railing, interest sharpening.
"I was hoping you could swing by," Vinny continued. "Help me go over it. Got a few others too. Wanna see what you think."
Samuel hesitated just a second — not from doubt, but from reality.
"I still got school," he said lightly. "But I'm done in two hours."
Turtle'll grab you after school. Just text him your address so he knows where to swing by.
Samuel nodded to himself."Alright."
Vinny's voice shifted, a little lighter, almost amused.
"Oh — and Ari's here too. We kinda... re-hired him this morning."
Samuel blinked once, caught off guard."Already?"
"Yeah," Vinny laughed. "Honestly? He crashed on the couch last night. Never even made it home. Figured it was a sign."
Samuel chuckled under his breath.Only Ari.
"And he wants to talk to you too," Vinny added. "Got this idea — turning Medellín into a TV show. Thinks you might have some thoughts."
Samuel felt a small buzz of curiosity under his ribs.
Bigger moves.Real conversations.
"I'm in," Samuel said simply.
"Good," Vinny said. "See you soon, Sammy."
The line clicked dead.
Samuel stood there for a second, the BlackBerry loose in his hand.
Scripts.TV pitches.Ari Gold back in the mix.
He thumbed out a quick text to Turtle:
Address below. Pick me up after school ends.
Sent.
He slid the BlackBerry back into his pocket — and that's when he caught the movement out of the corner of his eye.
Haley.
Standing a few feet away, arms crossed, watching him with that look — sharp, suspicious, and burning with questions.
She'd been standing there long enough to know this wasn't just some random phone call.
Samuel didn't slow down.
He caught Haley's glare out of the corner of his eye, but he kept walking, calm and easy, like she wasn't even there.
The gravel crunched under his shoes as he moved past her without a word.
Behind him, Haley's voice cut through the air — sharp, just a little too loud.
"You're gonna pretend I didn't hear that?"
Samuel stopped halfway down the walkway.
He turned slightly, just enough to glance back at her over his shoulder, face unreadable.
Dry, casual, he said:
"Oh, sorry. I didn't realize spying on other people's phone calls came with a free explanation."
Haley crossed her arms tighter, not missing a beat:
"Relax. If you didn't want anyone hearing, maybe don't take secret Hollywood calls right where people can see you."
Samuel arched an eyebrow slightly, a lazy smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.
"Didn't realize the neighborhood came with paparazzi."
He let the words hang, then added, voice smooth and cutting:
You should seriously think about joining the CIA. You're already good at filming people and spying on conversations."
Haley's jaw tightened — just for a second — before she masked it with a half-smirk.
"Please," she said, rolling her eyes. "You wish you were interesting enough to spy on."
Samuel's smirk didn't budge.
He took a step closer, voice dropping low enough that she had to lean in to catch it.
"You're not really mad I took a call," he said, tone almost bored. "You're mad it wasn't you getting it."
Haley stiffened, her mouth opening — but before she could throw something back, the school bell split the air, loud and sharp.
Samuel didn't flinch.
He just glanced down at his BlackBerry, then back up at her once, slow and steady.
Without a word, he turned and walked off toward the building, steps loose, easy, like he hadn't even broken a sweat.
Behind him, Haley stayed frozen, arms crossed tight across her chest, frustration and something sharper burning behind her eyes.
Samuel didn't look back.
Inside his head, the thought came easy, almost amused:
She just wanted info about Vinny.
Another few steps, and the smile tugged a little higher.
This time... he'd made sure Haley ended lunch upset. And maybe?Maybe being friends with celebrities was kinda awesome after all.
The second Samuel stepped into homeroom, he knew he wasn't getting a quiet minute.
Tori's head snapped up first, grinning.Dylan waved him over like they were planning a heist.Alex dropped her pen, already leaning forward, sharp-eyed.
Samuel slid into the seat next to them, dragging his backpack under the desk without a word.
The questions hit immediately.
"Did Vincent Chase seriously call you?" Alex asked, voice low but urgent.
"Are you gonna be in a movie or something?" Dylan added, half-joking but half-hoping.
"We saw the pictures," Tori said, wide-eyed. "You were actually there?"
Samuel smirked faintly, tugging out his notebook without even looking up.
"It's classified," he said casually. "Top secret Hollywood business."
Dylan groaned dramatically, slumping against his desk.
"Dude, come on. Spill."
Samuel chuckled, finally looking up.
"Met Turtle at the beach," he said, voice easy now. "He recognized me from that video Haley blasted. Thought I looked like someone Vinny would get along with."
He leaned back in his chair, stretching his legs out.
"Got invited to a dock party. Vinny was there. Turtle too. And Ari."
Tori laughed under her breath.
"You make it sound like it happens every Monday."
Samuel shrugged.
"Guess I just showed up at the right beach at the right time."
Dylan nudged Alex with his elbow.
"Next thing you know, he's starring in 'Aquaman 2.'"
Samuel snorted, flicking his pencil against Dylan's notebook.
"Yeah, right. I'll call you when they need someone to drown in the background."
Tori giggled, covering her mouth.
Alex didn't laugh — she was still studying him closely.
"But seriously," she said. "You're not just some random kid now. If Vincent Chase is calling you... things could get bigger."
Samuel tilted his head slightly, considering that.
"Maybe," he said. "Or maybe it's just a good story for Monday."
He said it casually — but a small part of him wondered, too.
Across the room, the teacher clapped loudly for attention.
Students shifted, muttering, pretending to focus.
Samuel flipped his notebook open wider, tapping his pencil idly against the page.
Tori leaned in again, whispering:
"You're not getting out of telling us the whole thing later."
Samuel smiled — small, real.
"We'll see," he said teasingly.
The final bell shook the halls loose.
Samuel slung his backpack higher over one shoulder, falling into step with Alex, Dylan, and Tori as they wove through the shifting crowd toward the front entrance.
The last class had dragged — lazy notes, half-hearted jokes — but Samuel didn't mind.
"You better not ditch us when you're rich and famous," Dylan joked, nudging Samuel lightly with his elbow.
"Relax," Samuel said dryly. "I'll still remember the little people."
Tori laughed.Alex rolled her eyes but didn't argue.
They pushed out into the sunlight, the heat pressing down like a heavy hand, the pickup zone buzzing with students and parents.
Samuel barely had time to shift his backpack when another group drifted closer —Haley, Cassie, Maddie, and a few others.
Haley led the way, tossing her hair back, trying too hard to look casual.
"Waiting for my dad," she said brightly, her voice too cheerful to be real.
Cassie shrugged lightly, offering a small, easy smile.Maddie nodded quickly, pretending to look around at nothing.
Yeah. Of course they were hoping to see Vinny.It wasn't even subtle.
Samuel shifted his weight, feeling the silence stretch too long between them.
He hated long silences. Always had.
So, easy and natural, he broke it.
He looked straight at Cassie and said:
"You ready for practice tomorrow?"
Cassie smiled — warm, almost teasing.
"We've been ready for weeks," she said, tossing her hair off her shoulder. "You're the one who's gotta survive your first day."
Samuel chuckled low.
"Thanks for the confidence boost."
Cassie grinned wider — and then, without warning, leaned in slightly, tapping his forearm with two fingers.
The move looked casual —but as she leaned closer, the neckline of her shirt dipped just enough for Samuel to catch a glimpse —smooth skin, a soft curve.
His eyes flicked up fast, but not fast enough.Heat crawled up the back of his neck.
Cassie smiled like she knew exactly what she was doing.
"Maybe you'll be fine," she said, playful.
Samuel cleared his throat lightly, forcing a half-smirk.
"I'll try not to die."
Beside him, Tori crossed her arms tighter, her mouth pressed into a thin line, but Samuel didn't notice.
Down the street, a familiar silver van pulled up —Phil Dunphy's minivan, all polished chrome and proud-dad energy.
Samuel caught Phil's big wave through the windshield.
Haley didn't move.Neither did Alex.
They both stayed planted, like they had every reason to hang around a little longer.
Samuel flipped open his BlackBerry, checking the time.
Almost on cue.
A low rumble started at the end of the street — rough, clunky, way too loud to ignore.
The big, battered yellow Hummer rolled into view, rattling like it might fall apart at any second.
It was loud.It was ugly.It was Turtle.
Maddie leaned toward Cassie and muttered:
"That thing's a crime against humanity."
Cassie laughed under her breath, her eyes flicking toward Samuel again.
Dylan smirked, shaking his head.
"Looks like a school bus got in a fight."
Tori stayed silent, arms crossed, her jaw tight.
Haley shifted slightly, trying not to make it obvious —but Samuel saw it.
She leaned just enough, peeking toward the Hummer —hoping it was Vinny Chase inside.
Hoping her standing around would suddenly pay off.
The Hummer screeched up to the curb and stopped with a loud groan.
For half a second, Haley held her breath.
Then Turtle swung the door open —baggy Lakers jersey, sunglasses half-off his face, grinning like he won the lottery.
Not Vinny Chase.
Not even close.
Samuel caught the flash of disappointment across Haley's face before she flipped her hair back into place.
"Oh, my dad's here," she said suddenly, her voice too bright, too fast.
She turned sharply toward her friends with a forced smile.
"See you guys later!"
She didn't wait for an answer.
Haley all but speed-walked across the lot toward Phil's van, her fake-calm falling apart with every step.
Samuel watched her go, amused.
Turtle slapped the roof of the Hummer, grinning even wider, and yelled:
"YO, CUPID! SAVE THE LOVE ARROWS FOR LATER, LET'S GO!"
Samuel shook his head, smirking as he adjusted his bag.
He tossed a casual nod to the group — catching Cassie's small, amused smile without even trying — and strolled toward the Hummer without a second glance.
Behind him, Haley shifted awkwardly, pretending she wasn't watching.
Turtle slapped the side of the door twice, impatience buzzing off him like static.
Samuel swung into the seat, the heavy door thudding shut behind him.
Inside smelled like fast food and bad decisions — but Samuel didn't mind.
Turtle slapped the dashboard with a loud thump.
"Man, you're already breaking hearts, bro," Turtle said, slapping the dashboard hard enough to make the cracked air freshener swing from the rearview mirror.
Samuel shook his head, leaning back against the worn seat.
"You're exaggerating."
Turtle barked a laugh.
"Exaggerating? Bro, your little cheerleader friend was ready to jump through the windshield."
Samuel smirked, eyes on the road ahead.
"You're imagining things."
"Nah," Turtle said, grinning wider. "I know the look, man. That wasn't 'who's that guy?' That was 'how fast can I get his number?'"
Samuel let out a quiet breath, amused despite himself.
"It's not like that."
"It's exactly like that," Turtle shot back. "Bro — even the other girls looked shook. Especially that one who sang with you — the serious-looking one. And the blonde? With the... you know."He made a vague, exaggerated gesture that said everything without needing words."Yeah. She was definitely staring."
Samuel didn't answer, just rested his elbow against the door, hiding the small smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.
"You ain't even trying," Turtle said, still shaking his head. "Vinny's gonna lose his mind when he hears you got a fan club after one day."
Samuel chuckled under his breath.
"They're staring at the guy who knows Vinny, not at me."
Turtle barked a laugh, pounding the dashboard once for emphasis.
"Whatever, man. Keep telling yourself that."
The Hummer rattled as Turtle took a turn a little too fast, the engine groaning in protest as they started climbing toward the hills.
Samuel leaned back, letting the heat and motion blur past the windows.
The city was different from back home — wider, shinier, rough around the edges but still buzzing like anything could happen at any second.
The houses got bigger.The streets got quieter.
Up ahead, the world opened wider —and Samuel just smiled slightly, ready for whatever came next.
Ahead, the familiar stone gates of Vinny's house swung into view, framed by ivy and the flash of polished glass catching the sun.
Samuel smiled faintly, feeling a quiet kind of energy light up under his ribs.
No panic.No second-guessing.
Just a low hum of excitement —the feeling that for once, he was exactly where he was supposed to be.
The battered yellow Hummer groaned to a stop in front of the house, looking even worse parked next to a gleaming Aston Martin and a pair of blood-red Ferraris.
Samuel grabbed his bag from the seat and swung it easily over one arm, the California sun cutting sharp against his clean shirt and fitted jeans.
He adjusted his sleeves with a casual flick, glancing across the driveway.
Aston Martin.Ferraris.Real money.Real weight.
He liked it.
And he wasn't showing up empty-handed either.
As he walked up toward the house, Samuel ran through the movie ideas he'd roughed out last night —half-finished pitches, sharp enough to throw out if Vinny was in the mood.
The front door banged open before they even made it up the steps.
Ari Gold stormed out, Bluetooth jammed in one ear, barking into the phone so loud Samuel caught half the argument without even trying.
"—you tell your guy if he doesn't have those contracts by five, I'm gonna drive over there myself and beat him with his own fountain pen—"
Ari kept pacing across the porch, wild energy rolling off him, until he spotted Samuel coming up the walk.
For a second, Ari's eyes flicked over him — quick, instinctive, practiced.
Crisp shirt. Rolled sleeves. Shoulders filled out better than yesterday.Sunlight caught the edge of his jawline, blond hair a little windswept but clean.
Better.Sharper.
He looked better than Vinny had the first time Ari ever scouted him.More composure. More presence. Less try.
Kid didn't even realize it.
Ari smirked to himself, snapping his Bluetooth into place with a flick of his thumb.
Without missing a beat, he barked into the air:
"Yeah, yeah, tell Warner Bros to hold. I'll call them back when I'm damn good and ready."
He clicked the call off, pointed at Samuel like he was laying claim to him, and said:
"Looking good, kid. Vinny's out back. Move."
Samuel just nodded, calm as ever, and kept walking.
Turtle clapped him on the shoulder as they cut through the house, grinning like he already knew Ari was scheming ten plays ahead.
The backyard opened up wide and bright —palm trees swaying lazily against the sky, the lawn sharp and green like it had been ironed.
By the pool, Johnny Drama stood like a man possessed — bow in hand, arrow nocked, tongue poking out the side of his mouth in deep concentration.
Turtle let out a low whistle.
"Still at it, huh?"
Vinny was lounging by the outdoor bar, sunglasses perched low on his nose, a drink sweating in his hand.
He grinned when he spotted them.
"Yo, man. Glad you made it."
Samuel dropped his bag onto a chair and gave a short nod.
Vinny jerked his thumb toward Drama, shaking his head.
"Ever since you pulled off that shot yesterday, he's been out here nonstop. Thinks he's ready for the Olympics."
Drama pulled back the string, aiming with exaggerated care — then let it fly.
The arrow wobbled midair and thunked harmlessly into the grass about five feet short of the target.
Turtle doubled over laughing.
"Bro, you couldn't hit a barn if you were inside it."
Drama turned, offended.
"It's the wind!"
There wasn't even a breeze.
Samuel watched for a moment, amused.
Then he stood up smoothly and crossed the patio.
Drama frowned as Samuel picked up another arrow and the bow in one fluid motion.
"You here to show off again?" Drama muttered.
Samuel just gave a half-smirk.
"One more time."
Instead of facing the target, Samuel turned his back to it.
Drama blinked, confused.
"You serious?"
Samuel glanced once over his shoulder — quick, casual — then squared up again, still facing away.
He drew the string back, steady and effortless.
The arrow snapped loose — sharp and clean — sailing through the air and punching dead-center into the bullseye.
Drama stared.
Turtle let out a low, impressed grunt but didn't say anything.
Samuel handed the bow back like it weighed nothing.
"Wind feels fine to me," Samuel said casually, handing the bow back and strolling toward the bar.
He dropped into a chair, arms draped loosely, letting the afternoon heat settle against him.
Near the pool, E looked up from the stack of scripts in his lap."Finally," he called. "We can start."
Samuel smirked, tapping his fingers lightly against the armrest."Didn't know I was holding things up."
Vinny chuckled from his lounge chair, sunglasses low on his nose."You kinda were, bro."
"Only all afternoon," E said, flipping a page.
Vinny was leaning back in a low chair, sunglasses on, feet kicked out. He held a half-empty glass of something cold and citrusy and looked like he hadn't moved in an hour.
"Don't listen to him," Vinny said. "We've just been reading garbage."
Ari was pacing a few feet away, phone in one hand, script in the other, talking loud enough to be heard by neighbors, even if he wasn't on a call.
"It's not garbage, it's a guaranteed hit—"
"It's a car crash with a budget," Vinny cut in. "None of these are it, man. They're all trying too hard."
Samuel slid into the chair, propping one ankle on his knee."So what kind of movie are you actually looking for?"
Vinny sat up a little, eyes narrowing."Someone rough around the edges. Not clean-cut. A guy who's maybe been chased out of half the world, lied his way out of a dozen disasters… but still walks like he owns the place."
He glanced down at his glass, then back at Samuel."You know — smart, reckless, funny without trying. Someone who'd probably steal your wallet but save your life in the same breath."
Ari huffed."You just described every guy who's ever had a leather jacket and a decent jawline."
"Then why do all your scripts feel like oatmeal?" Vinny fired back.
Samuel let the words settle, his eyes drifting toward the pool, flipping through fragments in his head.
"You still thinking about Medellín?" he asked.
Vinny didn't answer right away. He just exhaled and leaned back."Every script I read gets measured against it. Not even Pablo himself — just the feeling of it. That edge. That weight."
Samuel nodded."You want a guy with gravity. Not just danger, but presence. Someone people believe in — even if they shouldn't."
Vinny's expression sharpened."Yeah. That."
"Alright," Samuel said. "There are a lot of great characters in history, but most of them don't move the needle emotionally. You want conflict. You want swagger. And probably a little blood."
He took a breath."First idea: Ancient Rome. You play a general. Respected. Feared. The emperor dies. His spoiled son takes the throne, sees you as a threat. You're betrayed, enslaved, thrown into the arena. Gladiator pits. You rise again. Not for glory — for revenge. By the time you return to Rome, your name is a legend, and the people chant for the man the empire tried to erase."
Ari looked up. "That's a movie."
Vinny gave a slow nod. "That's badass."
Samuel smiled slightly."Thought you'd like that. Second one's weirder, but maybe even better."
He leaned forward, voice lower now."This one's... hazy. I've seen scattered mentions in Navy records, merchant logs, sailor journals. Nothing concrete. Just a name that keeps popping up in the margins — around storms, wrecks, raids."
E looked over, intrigued.
"Even in Captain Flint's journals," Samuel continued. "The real ones, not the cleaned-up retellings. There's an entry where Flint says he was boarded mid-battle by someone who wasn't even part of the fight. Drank his rum, stole his hat, lit a fire below deck, and disappeared before they could catch him."
Vinny sat up. "Wait — that actually happened?"
"That's the thing," Samuel said. "No one knows. Some think he was real. Some say he was a ghost story sailors used to explain bad luck. He shows up in chaos, vanishes just before it settles. Slurs his words. Swaggers like he's drunk. But somehow, always gets what he came for."
Ari narrowed his eyes. "And the name?"
Samuel met his gaze."Jack Sparrow."
The name floated there, light but heavy.
"Sounds fake," Vinny said.
"Because it probably is," Samuel replied. "But the best ones usually are. He's not a hero. Not a villain either. Just a survivor. A man the sea couldn't kill and history couldn't pin down."
They were quiet.
Vinny cracked a grin. "Okay. I'm in."
Samuel leaned back."If you want, I can put together a draft. Just a rough sketch. See how it feels."
Ari's brows lifted. E looked up from the pages in his lap.
Vinny smiled wider. "Do it."
Samuel gave a small nod, then added, almost offhand:"Also... I'm assuming there's some kind of compensation?"
Ari didn't miss a beat.Of course. You'll get paid — we're not amateurs
Then, with a flash of that sharp, producer grin:"And after that, you and I are gonna have a little talk. About Medellín."