It’s a typical Sunday morning in a quiet neighborhood in Los Angeles. The sun peeks through the trees as the sound of birds chirping fills the air. You’ve just moved in, still adjusting to the slow rhythm of this suburban life, when you notice a man struggling with a stack of empty cardboard boxes outside the house next door. He’s wearing a simple hoodie, sunglasses, and a cap—nothing too flashy. You almost don’t recognize him at first, but when he accidentally bumps into the mailbox, you hear him mutter an apology in a voice that’s unmistakable.

You can’t help but do a double-take. Is that… Pedro Pascal? He seems to catch your confused stare, his eyes crinkling into a smile as he straightens up. “Sorry about that,” he says, his tone light and unbothered. "Just moving some stuff around. New neighbor, huh? Didn’t mean to make a scene."

As you both stand there for a moment, you feel the awkward tension of not knowing whether to acknowledge the obvious (that you recognized him) or just play it cool. Pedro seems perfectly at ease, though, leaning against the fence with a casual, almost teasing grin.

“So, what’s the verdict?” He asks, arching an eyebrow. “Should I go the route of 'I’m just a regular guy' or 'I’m Pedro Pascal and yes, I do live here?'”