Redoing My Life (Modern Family)

"Are you sure about hiring stunt guys as directors?" Paul Knight, my head of development, asked, his voice laced with concern. "I mean, this is our first movie. We can't really afford to mess it up."

I turned toward him, a steaming coffee pot in hand as I poured a cup from the machine in my office. "I think it's the best decision," I said, watching the hot liquid swirl into the mug. "Most action movies feel the same nowadays, don't you think? Maybe we need something different."

Paul sighed. "But these guys have no experience directing," he countered, hesitation clear in his tone.

"Yet they've been around filmmaking for decades," I replied steadily. "They've worked with the best directors, and you yourself asked around—you heard how they've tried to get projects off the ground but couldn't find an investor. I think this is the opportunity they need."

"Maybe there's a reason they couldn't find an investor," Paul pointed out, his brows furrowing as he folded his arms.

"And now, they have," I said with a shrug, placing the coffee pot back. "Look, Paul, I started Midas Productions to give chances to talented people who, for whatever bullshit reasons, couldn't break into the industry. I also want to help good directors the studios have blacklisted."

Paul nodded slowly, his expression shifting from resistance to reluctant understanding. "It's a risk," he admitted.

I set a cup down for Paul and then sat opposite him, my own cup in hand. I took a long sip before leaning back in my chair. "Leitch and Stahelski will be coming this evening."

"So they're going to co-direct?" Paul asked, uncertainty still lingering.

"That's what we agreed on," I said with a nod.

"The guild has strict guidelines on crediting directors," Paul pointed out. "Who's going to be the credited director? We need to sort this out."

"Oh, I forgot about that," I said, frowning slightly. I hadn't considered that minor yet important technicality. "I'm sure they'll figure it out."

Paul shook his head, concern etched on his face. "I'm only asking because disputes have started over less. We need filming to go smoothly."

"Paul, I know you weren't there, but Maya and I were given a very solid pitch by these guys," I said, trying to put his mind at ease. "They have some fresh ideas. The audience latches onto anything new and exciting—something that hasn't been done before."

Paul's gaze softened, but his lips tightened as he sighed. "I understand, Daniel. But you need to make sure we aren't giving them too much control. We have to set limits."

I leaned forward, offering a reassuring smile. "That's why you're here, Paul. I need you to supervise things—keep an eye on the project. Just not in a micromanaging, hands-on kind of way. You know what I mean?"

Paul chuckled softly, shaking his head. "Yeah, yeah, I know. Alright, I'll keep everything on track. I just hope you know what you're doing."

I raised my cup, the corner of my mouth turning up into a smile. "That's the fun part, Paul—no one ever really knows for sure."

Placing the cup down on the table, I stood up and walked over to my desk. My new office was still being decorated with all my movie stuff—posters, awards, and props from projects I had worked on—with plenty of room for more in the future.

Paul, still seated, looked at me thoughtfully. "What about 'The Revenant'? Is Stardust planning to move forward with it?" he asked.

"Yes," I nodded. "I was going to tell you soon; I made some adjustments, actually. We'll be co-producing it with them."

Paul's eyes lit up. "That's great. I've been wanting to talk to you about that. I think it's a strong move for Midas."

"Well, Sam seems to be drowning in it," I said, referencing Sam, who was juggling 'The Revenant' alongside two other projects. "This way, we get the movie made without the time crunch, and considering the awards potential this project has..." I trailed off, raising an eyebrow.

Paul smiled knowingly. "Do you really think we can get Leonardo DiCaprio like you mentioned?" His tone was cautious but hopeful.

"Yeah, I think so. It's just about timing. If he's not free now, we can wait until he is," I said, leaning back against my desk. "He hasn't read the script yet, but I've been told it'll be in his hands next month."

"Well, let's hope he likes it," he said.

I moved to my desk and pulled a stack of papers from one of the drawers, then handed it to Paul.

He took it, glancing down at the title on the front page. "'The Thing'?" he read aloud, his brow furrowing slightly as he looked back up at me.

"Yep. My next venture into horror after 'The Blair Witch Project.' Thought you'd be interested, considering how much of a horror enthusiast you are," I said with a grin.

Paul began to skim through the pages, intrigued. "'The Thing'?" he repeated, his tone carrying a hint of curiosity.

"I know, I know. It's a weird title," I admitted, chuckling. "But trust me, it's fitting. The story's about an Antarctic research station where the team finds something in the ice—a lifeform, frozen. They thaw it out, and, well, everything goes to hell."

Paul looked up at me, one eyebrow raised. "Sounds like sci-fi horror. What's the catch?" he asked, clearly trying to wrap his head around the concept.

"The catch is this: the creature they find isn't just any alien. It's a shapeshifter. It can perfectly imitate any living organism it assimilates. The paranoia, the suspense—it all comes from not knowing who's human and who's 'the Thing.' You can't trust anyone, and it could be anyone."

Paul's eyes widened slightly as he flipped through more pages, catching snippets of the scenes. "Sounds intense," he said, nodding slowly.

"Exactly. Think of it as a mix of sci-fi, survival horror, and pure paranoia. It's about the fear of the unknown—being isolated, far from civilization, with something dangerous hiding among you. And the kicker is, no one knows if they're even themselves by the end," I explained.

Paul's lips curled into a smile as he placed the manuscript down.

"Think about it," I said. "I've already made a name for myself in the horror genre people will notice."

Paul gave me a considering look, pausing for a moment before nodding. "Well, you could put your name on it. You know, as a brand. 'Daniel Adler's The Thing.' It has a nice ring to it."

I tilted my head slightly, considering his suggestion. My eyes widened as I realized he was onto something. "Hmm... 'Daniel Adler's The Thing,'" I said, rolling the name around my tongue, trying it out. There was a certain confidence it carried.

A grin started to spread across my face. "Yes, that sounds great," I said to myself, almost in awe of how perfect it seemed. I could already see it on posters, bold letters blazing across promotional materials.

"So, after 'John Wick,' then?" he asked.

"Yes, it will be expensive, so let's save this for after 'John Wick,'" I replied, confirming Paul's thoughts.

"'John Wick' needs to be very successful, then," Paul said, standing up, clearly getting ready to head out.

"Oh, have a little faith, Paul. I'm sure you'll be charmed by our stuntman directors soon enough," I said, giving him a reassuring grin.

Paul shook his head with a small smile. "We'll see." He started toward the door, the manuscript in his hand. "I'll see you at the meeting, then," he added, giving me a nod before walking out.

As soon as Paul left, my phone rang, and I saw that it was Lucy. I picked up and answered, "Hey, what's up?"

"What's up?! What's up?!" Lucy's voice came through the phone, laced with exasperation.

"What? What did I do?" I asked, genuinely puzzled.

"Daniel, you should be preparing for your book tour. Remember, your new book coming out next month?" she said sharply, as though ready to strangle me through the phone.

"Yeah, yeah. I am prepared," I said nonchalantly, walking around my office.

"You don't act like it," Lucy shot back, her voice edged with frustration.

"Relax, Luce. I've done this like a million times now," I said, trying to ease her stress.

Lucy let out a deep, frustrated sigh. "It's going to be a long month, Daniel. I don't need any distractions from you."

"Look, I've got everything under control," I said confidently. "No need to worry."

"Under control, huh?" Lucy didn't sound convinced.

"Oh, about the talk shows and interviews, have you made sure they're set to mention Midas and my upcoming movies?" I asked.

"Yes, yes, you've already asked me this a million times. They will all ask you about Midas and your future plans," she reassured me.

"No distractions, Daniel," she added.

I smiled, though she couldn't see it. "Relax. Everything's under control," I repeated, hoping it would calm her down.

"Right. We'll see," Lucy said, her tone implying she didn't quite believe me. There was a pause, then her tone sharpened again. "And by the way, how's your progress on 'A Clash of Kings'? The manuscript that should have been done weeks ago?"

"Ah, yes... well..." I stammered, glancing at the piles of papers and notes scattered across my desk. Before she could grill me further, I quickly said, "Alright, gotta go! I'll catch up with you soon, Luce. Bye!" I swiftly ended the call and slipped the phone back into my pocket before she could say anything else.

I let out a long breath, shaking my head. Lucy was a godsend, but man, she could be relentless.

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I was leaning against the kitchen counter, telling Margot about the idea Paul had as I recounted my day. She was sitting across from me, sipping her tea, her eyes slightly narrowed in thought.

"Why put your name on it?" Margot asked, tilting her head. "It just seems like an ego thing to me."

"Hey, it sounds better," I said defensively, crossing my arms, my confidence in the idea unwavering.

Margot's eyes suddenly widened, and before I could ask, she broke into a fit of giggles. It started softly, but soon she was clutching her sides, her laughter filling the room.

I furrowed my brow, confused, though I couldn't help but smile at her reaction. "What? What's so funny?"

She tried to speak but couldn't manage through the laughter. Finally, she caught her breath long enough to get it out, still half-choked with giggles, "Daniel Adler's... thing."

"What?" I asked, confused.

"You know, Daniel Adler's thing," she repeated.

I blinked, realization dawning slowly. My smile faded, and I let out an exasperated sigh. One thing Margot had was a juvenile sense of humor—something that was very endearing about her.

Margot tried to explain again. "You know, your 'thing,'" she said, laughing.

I sighed.

"I mean, you know exactly what people are going to think. 'Daniel Adler's Thing.' It sounds like you're talking about—" she added.

"Yeah, yeah, I get it," I cut her off.

"You've officially ruined it for me now. Thanks for that," I said, shaking my head with a rueful smile.

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You can read up to chapter 145

p.a.t.r.eon.com/Illusiveone (check the chapter summary i have it there as well)