Redoing My Life (Modern Family)

I sat cross-legged on the carpet, Alice nestled in my arms, her tiny hands eagerly flipping through a colorful stack of flashcards spread across the floor. Alice, now two years old, was bright-eyed and giggling as we worked through her favorite numbers game.

"Alright, Alice, what's this one?" I asked, holding up a card with a big, bold number 8 printed on it.

She scrunched up her face in concentration for a moment before it lit up. "Eigt!" she chirped triumphantly.

"That's my girl!" I grinned, ruffling her soft hair.

Alice clapped her hands excitedly. I held up another card, and she answered correctly again. I couldn't help but marvel at how sharp she was for her age. "Alright, who's been teaching you?" I asked playfully, scooping her up and tickling her sides.

Her laughter was infectious, filling the room with joy. I kissed her forehead and set her down. She immediately toddled off, her sights set on a doll sitting on the couch.

I stretched out on the floor for a moment, letting the warmth of home settle over me. After the whirlwind affair that was the Harvey Weinstein debacle, I needed this.

Everything was progressing smoothly. Toy Story 3 was nearing its release. The DCU projects were also moving forward—Batman Begins was deep in post-production, Wonder Woman was entering pre-production, and the Superman script was almost complete. I planned to cast Henry Cavill as soon as possible to get him locked in for the long term.

Over at Midas, John Wick was gearing up to start production, and I was even planning to visit Keanu at the shooting range he was practicing at later today.

As I called Alice back over to me, Mom walked into the living room. She was dressed casually in jeans and a shirt, a wide-brimmed hat perched on her head, clearly preparing to go out.

"Where are you headed?" I asked.

"Jay and Gloria's," Mom replied, adjusting her hat. "They're having a yard sale."

Nathan appeared behind her, grinning from ear to ear. "Jay's selling his old bike," he said excitedly.

I looked at him, one eyebrow arched. "Don't you already have three bikes?"

"No, no, Danny, this one's special," he insisted. "Remember when I told you how a friend of mine totaled my first bike?"

I nodded, recalling the story. "Yeah?"

"Jay has the same model!" Nathan said excitedly.

"Well," I said, scooping Alice back into my arms, "let's all go. It's been a while since I've been to Jay's place anyway."

=====

The walk to Jay and Gloria's house was pleasant. Mom walked ahead with Nathan, who was talking a mile a minute about the bike, while I followed behind, holding Alice on my hip. She waved at passing cars and pointed excitedly at birds in the trees, giggling every time I made silly voices for them.

When we arrived at Jay and Gloria's, a small crowd was already milling around tables set up in the driveway. Old tools, kitchen appliances, books, and clothes were on display, with Gloria—heavily pregnant but as radiant as ever—managing the sale. Manny hovered nearby, diligently assisting buyers.

Manny spotted me and Alice almost immediately and broke into a big smile as he walked over. "Hey, Alice!" he greeted her warmly.

Alice reached out to him, her tiny arms stretching toward him. "Many!" she exclaimed happily.

I grinned. "Hey, Manny. How's it going?"

Manny greeted me.

"So, how'd that thing with the girl go?" I asked, remembering what we had last talked about.

He sighed heavily. "She said she just wants to be friends."

I patted his shoulder sympathetically. "Her loss, big man. You're a catch. Don't forget that."

His face brightened a little. "Thanks, Daniel."

"So," I said, shifting Alice on my hip, "ready to become a big brother?"

Manny's eyes lit up with excitement, but before he could answer, a car pulled into the driveway. It was Phil and Claire's SUV, carrying Alex, Luke, and another boy I didn't know. Another car followed closely behind, carrying Mitchell and Cam.

I walked over to greet them, catching Phil's eye immediately. He broke into a big smile and rushed over.

"Hey, Phil," I greeted.

"Daniel, we need to talk about the thing," Phil said, his voice low.

"Oh, sure," I said, handing Alice over to Mom, who was chatting with Claire. I followed Phil a little way from everyone.

[Phil Commentary]

"Claire's always been obsessed with Halloween. I mean, obsessed. Every year she finds a way to scare me—and not just regular scares. Oh no, she goes full psychological thriller on me. I fall for it every… single… time!

But this year? This year, I'm turning the tables. And who better to help me than Daniel? He makes movies, he's a great writer, he's even made a horror movie—one of Claire's favorites—and he's got access to actual movie props." 

"Claire won't see this coming."

 [End Commentary]

"I've found the perfect house for this."

"That's great," I said, already intrigued.

Phil's eyes lit up as he added, "Even better, there's a rumor that there was an actual murder there."

"Even better," I said with a grin. "I think I've got just the thing. I was going to call you about it."

Phil leaned forward eagerly. "Let's hear it."

"Alright," I began, "here's the plan. You tell Claire about this haunted house you have a listing on. You hype it up, make it sound super creepy. Then on Halloween, you dare her to go there. Make it seem like it's her idea, and act like you're scared out of your mind."

Phil nodded, his eyes wide with interest. "I love it already."

"And here's where it gets good," I continued. "I know some guys at the studio who can rig up a few scares. We're talking subtle, realistic stuff to make her think there's an actual ghost—lights flickering, whispers, and more."

"That's great," Phil said, excited.

"So what about my Psycho idea?" Phil asked.

Phil's original idea involved something similar to the killer from the movie Psycho, but that would need some time to set up.

"We'll save that as Plan B for next year if this doesn't work out," I said.

Phil gave a little fist pump. "Great."

Just then, we were interrupted by Manny and Luke, who came rushing over. Manny looked unusually worried.

"We'll talk later," I said to Phil, who nodded and walked off, giving me a thumbs up as he left.

Luke blurted out, "We found Gloria's secret box!"

I raised an eyebrow. "Secret box?"

Manny looked more worried than intrigued, wringing his hands. "We found a trunk, and Mom was very secretive about it. She didn't want us anywhere near it."

Smirking, I decided to have some fun. "Oh, Manny, who knows what could be in there? It could be something… incriminating."

Manny's eyes went wide, his face draining of color. "Incriminating? Like… what?"

"I don't know," I said, pretending to think. "Could be old love letters from someone who isn't Jay. Or, I don't know… documents about an international smuggling ring. You never know with Gloria."

Manny's voice quivered. "Smuggling ring?!"

Luke, meanwhile, thought this was the coolest thing he'd ever heard. "That would be so awesome! Maybe there's gold in there, Manny. Pirate's gold!"

Manny looked horrified.

Luke grabbed Manny by the arm. "We have to find out!"

I chuckled as they walked off. I glanced at my watch and realized it was time for me to leave.

As I turned to head out, Alex spotted me and came over with a boy trailing behind her. "Daniel, this is my friend Michael," she introduced.

Michael's eyes went wide, and he gasped. "Oh my god, you're Daniel Adler! I've read all your books!" he gushed, his tone exaggerated. "Alex told me she was friends with you, but I didn't believe her!"

"Nice to meet you, Michael," I said, offering a polite smile as he rapid-fired questions at me. "Does Alex really get to read your books before everyone else? When's the next Percy Jackson book coming out? Can you sign my copy of Elden Ring?"

Before I could answer, Alex grabbed Michael by the arm, her face red with embarrassment. "Okay, Michael, let's go! Sorry, Daniel," she said hurriedly, dragging him away.

I shook my head, amused, and made my way over to Mom to let her know I was leaving. But before I could get there, Claire motioned me over. She was standing with Mitchell and Cam, who were both looking highly entertained.

"Hey, what is it?" I asked.

Claire leaned in, lowering her voice as if sharing a state secret. "Daniel, you're Hollywood-adjacent. You must have a great gaydar."

I blinked. "Yeah, I think so. Why?"

Claire pointed subtly toward Michael. "Is Michael gay or not?"

I glanced at Cam and Mitchell, then back to Claire. "Come on, Claire. Of course he is."

Cam grinned triumphantly. "See? I told you!"

Claire's face twisted in shock. "Oh my god."

I frowned. "What's the problem?"

Mitchell smirked. "Who do you think Michael is?"

"Alex's friend," I said, still confused.

Cam leaned in, his tone amused. "Alex is claiming he's her boyfriend."

"Ohhhh," I said, drawing the word out as I turned to look at Michael and Alex, then back to Claire, Mitchell, and Cam. "Poor Alex."

Claire threw her hands up. "This is going to be a disaster."

Mitchell chuckled. "She'll figure it out eventually."

Claire shook her head. "No, no, I need to talk to her," and she almost ran toward Alex.

"Well… I feel like that won't end well," I said, watching Claire go.

.

.

.

The outdoor shooting range was vast, surrounded by open fields and hills in the distance. Keanu was in the middle of a session, moving fluidly between marked positions as he fired a handgun with precision. He fired several rounds into the target, moving laterally with a sharp turn, reloading in one swift motion, and landing the final shots dead center.

When he finished, the crowd around the range clapped enthusiastically. Keanu removed his ear protection, his trademark calm expression intact, though he gave a small smile in acknowledgment of the applause.

I joined in the clapping as I approached, genuinely impressed. "Keanu," I called, and he spotted me and walked over.

"Hey, Daniel," he greeted warmly, extending a hand. His grip was firm but friendly.

"I'd heard you were good, but this?" I gestured to the targets, shaking my head in amazement. "This is on another level."

Keanu waved off the compliment, his humility as evident as ever. "Nah, this is nothing," he said.

"If this is what you're bringing to the table, my friend," I said, gesturing to the range, "we've got one hell of a movie on our hands."

Keanu nodded thoughtfully. "I think this one's going to be good. Great crew, great concept, and"—he motioned to me with a small grin—"a great writer and boss."

I laughed.

As we talked, I glanced around and spotted a shotgun resting on a nearby rack. "You practice with that too?" I asked, pointing to it.

Keanu nodded. "Yeah, I'm going to do one more round with it, then let's grab something to eat."

"Sounds good to me," I said as I walked over to inspect the weapon. A staff member was nearby, fiddling with something at the range table.

"Is this safe to touch?" I asked.

"Yeah, yeah," the staff member mumbled distractedly, not even looking my way.

Shrugging, I picked up the shotgun in my left hand, mimicking the iconic pose Arnie struck in Terminator 2. 

'Need someone to take a picture,' I thought, raising the weapon with one arm and aiming it toward the target.

'Maybe if i had bike to sit on'

What I didn't expect was for the gun to go off.

The deafening blast sent my hand jerking violently as the recoil surged up my arm. Pain exploded from my wrist up to my shoulder as the shotgun slipped from my grip and clattered to the ground. My ear felt like it had burst.

"Ahhh! What the fuck!" I screamed, clutching my arm. The searing pain was instant and unrelenting. It felt like my entire arm had shattered.

Keanu rushed over, panic etched across his face. "Daniel! Are you okay?"

People swarmed around me. "What did you do?" someone asked in shock.

I could barely focus through the haze of pain. My vision blurred as I pointed at the staff member who had given the approval. "You told me it was safe!" I growled through clenched teeth.

The staff member stammered, "I… I didn't mean…"

Keanu turned to someone else, shouting, "Call 911!" His voice was sharp and commanding, a far cry from his usual calm demeanor.

"It's fine, the recoil is not enough to break your arm maybe a tear...," Keanu said, kneeling beside me. His concern was genuine, his hand on my shoulder. "You're going to be okay."

'Please tell me there's no footage of this.'

====

Of course, there was footage of the incident, and of course, it went viral. The video played on my screen for what felt like the millionth time. The sound was muted, but the cringe remained potent. Margot sat beside me, arms crossed, her expression somewhere between concern and exasperation as she glared at the screen.

"Hey, at least most people are sympathetic," I said, attempting a weak smile as I adjusted the position of my left arm, now encased in a cumbersome cast.

Margot turned her glare on me. "Sympathetic? You should sue the gun range."

I sighed, leaning back. "It's done and over. It was partly my fault anyway." Thankfully, there wouldn't be any permanent damage. Besides, my PR team worked overtime to make me look less stupid.

She huffed but didn't argue further, her eyes narrowing as another meme scrolled across the screen. The caption read: "Adlerminator: Hasta la Vista, Safety Measures."

"At least some of these are funny," I offered, chuckling slightly despite myself.

Once again, I had become a meme, and even my old ones resurfaced: the one of me dancing and the one of me sitting sadly on a bench.

Margot's stern expression cracked slightly. "Your arm hurts, right? Have you taken your meds?" she asked.

"Not yet."

"I'm going to get them," she said, standing up.

"You're going nowhere near a gun again," she added.

"Alright, alright," I said, holding up my good hand in surrender.

As she walked out of the room, I caught another clip on my phone. This one was a mashup of my mishap set to the Terminator theme, complete with slow-motion replays. Despite the lingering ache in my arm, I couldn't help but laugh.

"At least people are having fun with it."

.

.

.

Claire carried a basket of laundry into the bedroom. As she set it down to fold, she noticed Phil's phone vibrating on the bedside table. The screen lit up with a familiar name: Daniel Adler.

Curiosity piqued, Claire reached for the phone. Before she could answer, it went to voicemail. She hesitated, then tapped to listen to the message.

Daniel's voice came through, slightly sheepish but clear "Hey Phil, yeah, I'm fine. Thanks for checking in. And yes, I have seen the memes. Anyway, about our plan to scare Claire... "

Claire's eyes widened as she listened.

"I have everything set. Just tell me the address of the house, and I'll have the guys set everything up."

The message ended. Claire slowly put the phone back on the table and processed the information for a while. Then, her lips curled into a wicked smile. "Oh, Phil," she murmured, a plan already forming in her mind. "You poor, poor man."