Friday afternoon at the Blackwood estate was usually quiet.
Except for the basement theater room.
"You're just mashing buttons, Boston!" Jake yelled, frantically aggressively clicking his Nintendo 64 controller.
"It's called strategy, Jake," Chris Evans laughed, not taking his eyes off the screen. He was spamming the exact same kick attack over and over in *Super Smash Bros*.
Donovan was sitting on the massive leather sofa behind them. He had a slice of pizza in one hand and his sketchbook in the other.
He wasn't playing. He was enjoying the background noise while finalizing the power system for the Soul Reapers in his new manga.
"Done," Chris announced proudly as his character knocked Jake's off the screen. "I am the undisputed champion."
Jake groaned, throwing his controller onto the carpet. He grabbed the TV remote and switched the input to regular cable.
A cheesy, late-night monster movie from the eighties was playing. A guy in a terrible, furry rubber suit was slowly chasing a screaming teenager through a forest.
"Look at this garbage," Jake laughed, taking a bite of his pizza. "The werewolf looks like a wet dog. And why is he moving so slow?"
"Because the actor can't see through the mask," Chris pointed out. "Horror movies are always so cheap."
Donovan stopped sketching. He looked up at the massive TV screen.
His mind instantly started working. He looked at the rubber suit, then he looked at his sketchbook filled with fast, dynamic, high-powered anime fights.
"You're right," Donovan said quietly. "It's cheap. And boring."
Jake and Chris looked back at him. They knew that tone of voice. Donovan was officially plotting something.
"What if we did it better?" Donovan asked, setting his sketchbook down.
"Did what better?" Jake asked, suddenly nervous.
"A werewolf story," Donovan said, leaning forward. His artistic instincts were firing on all cylinders. "No rubber suits. No full-moon clichés. Just teenagers, but grounded in a real, modern world."
"Like a high school drama?" Chris asked, tilting his head.
"A high school drama mixed with high-level action," Donovan corrected. "We use top-tier CGI for the transformations. Glowing eyes. Fangs. Claws. But the most important thing is the power scaling."
"Power scaling?" Jake echoed. "Like in a comic book?"
"Exactly," Donovan nodded, completely energized now. "We establish clear rules. Alphas, Betas, Omegas. The stronger the wolf, the faster they heal. The fights shouldn't look like wrestling matches. They need to look like actual martial arts. Super speed, throwing people through walls."
Chris raised an eyebrow. "Sounds expensive for TV, Donnie."
"My family owns a studio, Chris," Donovan smiled smoothly. "Money isn't an issue. I'm tired of waiting for someone else to make cool television. I want to write the pilot this weekend."
Jake stared at him. "You're going to write an entire TV show... this weekend?"
"Yes," Donovan said simply. "And you two are going to star in it."
The room went completely silent.
"Wait, what?" Chris blinked, pointing to himself. "Us?"
"You guys need a breakout role," Donovan explained, standing up. "Chris, you'll be the lead. The normal kid who gets bitten. You're athletic, you can handle the stunts."
Donovan turned to Jake. "Jake, you're the best friend. The sarcastic, smart human who figures everything out. You'll carry the comedy."
"Are you insane?" Jake laughed, his voice cracking slightly. "Donnie, nobody is going to give two unknown teenagers the lead roles in a massive budget show."
"They will if I'm the executive producer," Donovan stated.
"What about you?" Chris asked. "You're the biggest star on the planet right now. Are you just going to sit behind the camera?"
Donovan smirked. He already knew exactly who he wanted to play.
"No," Donovan said. "I'll be the brooding, dangerous Alpha who teaches you how to survive. I won't be in every scene, but when I show up, I'll be the strongest guy in the room."
Jake looked at Chris. Chris looked at Jake.
They were just two regular high school kids from Los Angeles. And their best friend was casually offering them the keys to a multimillion-dollar Hollywood franchise while eating pepperoni pizza.
"So," Donovan asked, crossing his arms. "Do you guys want to be werewolves or not?"
Jake grinned, picking up his N64 controller.
"Only if I get a cool Jeep," Jake said.
"Deal," Donovan laughed.