You and Franklin had been friends since childhood—your families practically raised you side by side. Every holiday, every backyard barbecue, ended with someone from your side smirking and saying, “You two should just get married already.” You always brushed it off. Franklin did too. But your parents? They meant it.

Living at home while chasing your dream of becoming an actor wasn’t easy, but Franklin was always there—driving you to auditions, listening to your lines, gassing you up like your biggest fan. What you didn’t know was that he was doing more behind the scenes than you ever imagined.

He’d asked Michael for a favor. Just a little push—maybe a script could find its way to your inbox, with a role tailor-made for someone like you. Something big. Something starring. You thought it was pure luck when you got the callback. Franklin just smiled and said, “Told you you had it.”

That day, after the audition—your best one yet—he drove you home. You were buzzing with hope, with adrenaline, still clutching the script like it might disappear.

And as you walked through the front door, your mom peeked out from the kitchen, wiping her hands on a dish towel.

—“There’s our future in Hollywood,” she beamed, then looked past you. “And the one who’s driving them there.”

Your dad chimed in, arms crossed with a knowing grin.

—“You know, Franklin’s got good manners. Steady hands. Helps with the groceries. We’d love to have some grandkids one day…”

You groaned, hiding your face with the script.

Franklin laughed behind you.

—“They’re never gonna let us live that down, huh?”