Saturday mornings at the Blackwood estate were completely unpredictable.
The kitchen was massive, with shining white marble countertops, a giant stainless-steel refrigerator, and large glass windows that let in the bright Los Angeles sun. It looked like a kitchen straight out of an expensive architectural magazine.
But today, it was serving as the unofficial headquarters for the youngest studio executive in Hollywood.
Donovan sat on a tall wooden stool at the central island. He was seventeen years old, wearing comfortable gray sweatpants and a faded vintage band t-shirt. His dark hair was messy from sleep.
In his left hand, he held a large silver spoon. In front of him was a giant ceramic bowl filled to the top with colorful Froot Loops and cold milk.
But the cereal wasn't the most interesting thing on the table.
Spread across the expensive marble island were dozens of thick, heavy folders filled with legal documents. They were officially stamped with the Blackwood Studios logo. The title printed on the top folder was simple, but it carried enough weight to change the history of cinema: *Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone*.
Donovan took a bite of his sugary cereal and chewed slowly, his eyes scanning the complex legal jargon on the page.
Our studio had successfully purchased the movie rights for the books. It was a massive victory, completely wiping out any competition. Now, the real work had to begin. Donovan was personally reviewing the pre-production budgets and the strict casting guidelines before they opened the offices in London.
He flipped to the third page, checking a very specific clause he had insisted on including. The entire cast had to be British. No exceptions. He already knew exactly what kind of actors they needed to look for. He didn't need to consult a market research team or have a long meeting. He just knew what would work perfectly on screen.
He picked up a black pen and signed his name at the bottom of the document, officially authorizing a fifty-million-dollar initial budget.
He didn't sweat. He didn't panic about the massive amount of money. He just casually flipped the folder closed, pushed it to the side, and took another bite of his Froot Loops.
Suddenly, a loud crash echoed from the hallway.
"I am the king of the mountain!" a young voice screamed.
Oliver, Donovan's twelve-year-old brother, came sliding into the kitchen. He was wearing pajamas and thick wool socks, trying to surf across the polished wooden floor. He immediately lost his balance, spun out of control, and crashed loudly into the lower cabinets near the sink.
Right behind him was Buster, a massive Saint Bernard. The dog was barking happily, his heavy paws slipping everywhere as he tried to catch his human. Buster tackled the boy to the floor, aggressively licking Oliver's face while the kid laughed uncontrollably.
Donovan didn't even flinch. He was perfectly used to the morning chaos. He just reached out and moved his glass of orange juice slightly to the left so it wouldn't spill if Oliver crashed into the island next.
Under the kitchen table, Apollo lifted his giant, heavy head. Donovan's loyal Saint Bernard had been sleeping peacefully near his feet. Apollo looked at Oliver and Buster, let out a single, deep sigh that sounded almost like an old man complaining, and went right back to sleep.
A few seconds later, Lily walked into the kitchen. The eight-year-old girl was wearing a pink princess dress and holding a plastic magic wand. She walked calmly around the wrestling match on the floor, holding the leash of her gentle dog, Bella.
"Good morning, Donny," Lily said sweetly. She completely ignored Oliver, who was currently trying to escape Buster's giant paws.
"Morning, Lily," Donovan smiled warmly, putting his pen down. "Are you hungry? Mom and Dad went to the golf course, but I can make you something."
"Pancakes, please," she requested politely, sitting on the stool next to him. She looked at the stack of *Harry Potter* documents. "Are those homework?"
"Something like that," Donovan laughed, standing up to grab the pancake mix from the pantry. "Just a project about a kid with a magic wand. Kind of like yours."
Lily looked at her plastic wand and smiled happily.
Before Donovan could turn on the stove, the front door opened, and a loud voice echoed through the house.
"Did somebody say pancakes?!"
Donovan rolled his eyes, a genuine smile appearing on his face. He didn't even need to check the hallway. His friends didn't bother knocking anymore.
Chris Evans and Jake Gyllenhaal walked into the kitchen like they owned the place. Chris was wearing athletic shorts and a baseball cap backward, practically vibrating with his usual endless energy. Jake was dressed in a comfortable hoodie, looking half-asleep but fully aware of everything happening around him.
"I smell food," Chris announced. He walked straight past Donovan, opened the giant refrigerator, and started looking inside. "What do you have, Donny? I am starving. We just went for a five-mile run."
"You went for a five-mile run. I was dragged out of my warm bed against my will," Jake corrected him, pulling up a stool next to Lily. "Good morning, princess."
"Good morning, Jake," Lily smiled.
Jake looked at the table. He saw the bowl of colorful cereal, the little girl in a princess dress, and the massive stack of legal papers. He leaned forward and squinted at the top document, reading the numbers upside down.
"Donovan," Jake said slowly, blinking a few times. "Are you eating Froot Loops while authorizing a fifty-million-dollar wire transfer to London?"
Donovan shrugged, pouring the pancake batter onto the hot pan. "Yeah. We need to start casting the British actors for the new movie. The timing is important."
Jake just stared at him for a long moment. "You are literally insane. You know that, right? Normal seventeen-year-olds are worried about getting into college, and you are casually buying small countries on a Saturday morning."
Chris closed the refrigerator with an apple in his mouth and a carton of orange juice in his hand. "Hey, don't question the genius, Jake. Let him buy his magic movies. As long as he pays for the pizza later, I don't care."
Donovan laughed loudly. Being around his friends and his chaotic siblings was the best part of his week. It grounded him completely.
"I'll buy the pizza," Donovan promised, flipping a perfectly golden pancake. "But anyway, why are you guys here so early? I thought we weren't meeting at the studio until Monday."
Jake grabbed a piece of toast from a plate on the counter and took a bite. "We came to remind you about the schedule. We have the official table read for the *Teen Wolf* pilot on Monday morning. Everyone is going to be there."
"Right," Donovan nodded, putting the finished pancake on a plate for Lily. "I already have the scripts printed and bound at the office."
"There is just one tiny problem," Chris said, taking a loud bite of his apple. "We still don't have an actor to play Jackson. We rejected everyone. That guy who growled at me still gives me nightmares."
Donovan sighed, leaning against the counter. "I know. We will have to do an emergency casting call right before the table read. We need someone who can play an arrogant, rich high school kid without looking completely ridiculous. It's harder than it sounds."
"Well, we better find him fast," Jake pointed out. "Because the rest of the cast is ready. By the way, is Scarlett coming to the reading?"
"Yeah," Donovan replied, a small, genuine smile forming on his face at the mention of her name. "I called her agent yesterday. She extended her hotel stay. She is coming to the studio on Monday to read with us."
"Awesome," Chris cheered. "She is so cool. Hey, after the table read, we should totally take her to that massive arcade downtown. To celebrate the pack officially coming together."
Jake looked at Chris like he had lost his mind. "We are going to be exhausted after reading scripts all day, and your idea of relaxing is going to a dark room full of screaming kids and flashing neon lights?"
"Actually," Donovan interrupted, his eyes shining with a sudden competitive spark. "That is a great idea. Scarlett and I have some unfinished business."
Jake raised an eyebrow. "Unfinished business? What, are you going to negotiate her television contract over a game of Skee-Ball?"
"No," Donovan laughed, untying his cooking apron. "We are going to play Pac-Man. And I am going to absolutely destroy her high score."
Chris clapped his hands excitedly, already planning which fighting games he was going to play. Jake just rubbed his tired face and muttered something about how he was constantly surrounded by children.
Donovan smiled as he watched Oliver finally escape the giant dog, only to slip on the floor again. The *Harry Potter* documents were safely signed. The *Teen Wolf* cast was almost complete. And he was about to spend the weekend doing exactly what a seventeen-year-old should be doing.
Life was incredibly good.