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"Michael?"
The single word hung in the cool evening air, prompting both Emma and Michael to stop in their tracks.
Their hands still tightly clasped together, they slowly turned around to face the direction of the voice.
Standing just a few yards away, illuminated by the pale yellow glow of a solitary parking lot streetlight, was Jack Black.
He had his hands resting casually on his hips, his head tilted slightly to the side as he looked at the two of them with an incredibly fond, almost knowing expression on his expressive face.
Emma immediately recognized the opportunity to introduce the two incredibly important men in her life.
She tugged gently on Michael's hand, stepping closer to him.
"Come on," she whispered, a bright, genuine smile returning to her face. "You have to come and say hi to him."
Michael, who was notoriously private and generally avoided the chaotic social interactions of Hollywood elites, simply nodded his head.
He readily agreed, allowing Emma to lead him across the rough asphalt toward the legendary actor.
As they closed the distance, Jack Black's eyes shifted from Emma to lock directly onto Michael's gaze.
A slow, deeply amused smirk crawled across Jack's face, pulling at the corners of his mouth before he dramatically threw his arms open wide.
"Well, well, well! If it isn't the man of the hour! It is really you," Jack Black proclaimed, his voice booming with theatrical intensity. "Michael Owen. The famously reclusive, unbelievably talented writer, and the absolutely adorable boyfriend of our very own Ms. Myers."
Both Emma and Michael couldn't help but chuckle at the sheer, unfiltered energy of the comment.
Emma stepped forward first, wrapping her arms around Jack for a second, affectionate hug, which he returned enthusiastically.
When she stepped back, Michael extended a polite hand. Jack looked at the hand, laughed out loud, and entirely bypassed it, pulling Michael into a surprisingly strong, bone-crushing embrace that mirrored the one he had given Emma earlier.
Michael stiffened for a fraction of a second before relaxing into the hug, lightly patting the actor's back.
"I gotta tell you, man, it is an absolute honor to finally meet the myth, the legend in the flesh," Jack Black said as he finally released Michael, taking a step back but keeping his hands animating wildly in the air to emphasize his points.
He pointed a finger directly at Emma. "First of all, let's talk about Emma here. I've worked with a lot of people in this town, okay? A lot of people. But Emma? Her acting is next level. Absolute dynamite. She brings a fire to the set that you just can't teach. You are a very lucky man."
He then swiveled his entire body to point that same animated finger directly at Michael's chest.
"And you! Let's talk about your writing. Unbelievable. Transcendent. I am telling you, as a man who appreciates the written word, you are a master of the craft. I am such a massive, colossal fan of your work on The Hobbit. I have read the currently released book three times over. Three times! And I am absolutely dying inside waiting for the rest of it to drop. What's the hold-up, man? You're killing me!"
Michael's typically stoic demeanor softened into a genuine, confident smile.
He appreciated the pure, unpretentious enthusiasm radiating from the actor. "Thank you, Jack. I genuinely appreciate that," Michael said, his voice calm and steady. "And you actually don't have to wait much longer. I've finalized the structure. I am going to release the last three parts simultaneously as massive bundles. It's the best way to give my other upcoming projects more of a window to release without cannibalizing my own market."
Jack Black's eyes widened to comical proportions.
His jaw practically dropped open. For a second, he just stared at Michael in sheer disbelief.
And then, he exploded. "No way! Are you kidding me right now?!" he exclaimed, his voice hitting a high, melodic pitch of pure joy.
He did a sudden, surprisingly agile celebratory jump, pumping both of his fists triumphantly into the air. "Yes! Oh, that is magnificent! That is pure rock and roll, man! You dropping a bundle at once? The fans are going to absolutely lose their minds! The internet is going to break! I am going to be first in line!"
He continued to celebrate for a few more seconds, radiating an infectious, chaotic joy.
But then, almost instantly, a very subtle but distinct shift occurred in Jack Black's demeanor.
The wild, comedic energy vanished, replaced by a sudden, intense seriousness that seemed completely out of character. His posture straightened, his boisterous voice dropped an entire octave, and he glanced nervously around the empty parking lot.
He looked at Emma, his expression entirely sober. "Hey, Emma... listen. Do you mind if Michael and I talk alone for just a quick second? Strictly shop talk. About a new project I thought of?"
Emma, entirely used to the sudden, private networking conversations that often happened spontaneously in Hollywood, didn't think twice about the request.
She smiled warmly and nodded. "Of course, I don't mind at all. Take your time."
Michael reached into the pocket of his tailored suit pants, pulled out the heavy electronic key fob to his car, and placed it gently into Emma's palm.
"Go ahead and sit in the car," he instructed softly. "Turn on the AC, it's still pretty warm out here. I'll be there in just a minute."
"Okay! Bye, Jack! It was so great working with you!" Emma called out brightly, waving over her shoulder as she turned and began walking away toward the sleek vehicle parked under the next light.
Michael stood perfectly still, watching Emma until she was safely inside the car with the doors closed. Only then did he turn his attention back to Jack Black.
The playful atmosphere had completely evaporated.
"So," Michael said, his eyes narrowing slightly in analytical curiosity. "What is this really about, Jack?"
Jack Black didn't answer immediately. He took a step closer to Michael, his eyes darting quickly to the left and right, ensuring that no stray crew members were lingering in the shadows of the nearby soundstages.
Satisfied that they were entirely alone, Jack reached into the inner breast pocket of his jacket. He withdrew his hand slowly, holding a small, perfectly rectangular card between his index and middle fingers. He extended his arm, offering it to Michael.
Michael looked down at the offering. It wasn't a standard business card. It was thick, high-quality, matte black cardstock.
He reached out and took it, flipping it over in his hands. There were no logos, no agency insignias, no names, and no titles. There was only a single, plain string of white numbers printed dead in the center.
"A number?" Michael asked, his brow furrowing in genuine confusion. He looked back up at Jack Black, seeking an explanation.
"It's my private, direct number," Jack Black said, his voice reduced to a harsh, hushed whisper that barely carried over the ambient hum of the distant city traffic. "Keep it safe. And more importantly... when you finally find out that there are more people like us out there... call me."
The confusion on Michael's face deepened into absolute bewilderment. He stared at the legendary comedian, trying to read any sign of a joke or a prank, but Jack's face was completely stoic, almost grim.
"People like us?" Michael repeated, the phrase feeling heavy and foreign on his tongue. "What exactly does that mean?"
But Jack Black didn't elaborate. He simply offered Michael one last, deeply serious look, turned around on his heel, and said, "You will know."
Without another word, Jack walked briskly away, his dark silhouette quickly swallowed by the deep shadows between the massive studio warehouses.
Michael was left standing completely alone in the silent parking lot, the cool night breeze rustling his suit jacket, staring down at the mysterious black card resting heavily in the palm of his hand.