#jordan los angeles photographer

[jramayphotography]

The Search for a Professional Photographer Los Angeles, CA

When searching for a professional photographer Los Angeles CA, you must find some experts who bring out the best in you. Authentic portraits are the backbones of successful shoots. You can find so many different types of shoot but for couples and families documentary style works best. If you have, certain requirements then clear this out with your professional photographer. Jordan Ramay photography is a good choice especially when you need great results at a reasonable price. 

[puckpocketed]

11/09/2024 - THE BOYS ARE BACK

[zengardenphotos]

Meet the photographer

Los Angeles, CA

[kcyars520]

SIGN IN

Menu

CUT COVERS11:00 A.M.

Keke Palmer Is the Internet’s Sweetheart

But the multi-hyphenate is more than just the Queen of Meme.

Photo: Micaiah Carter

Keke Palmer grips the false lashes on her eyelids with two fingers and slowly peels them off her skin. She’s had a long day, and it’s nearly 7 p.m.

The sun in the window behind her is blaring over a palm tree without any sign of eventually making its descent somewhere behind the horizon. And yet, Palmer has endured multiple flight delays from Las Vegas to Los Angeles, had a glamorous hours-long photo shoot, found herself at the center of Twitter discourse about her relationship, and still made it home in time to feed her new baby his early-dinner bottle. “Yup, he’s asleep,” she says, looking over playfully at her 4-month-old son, Leo.

About that discourse: Palmer’s motherhood recently became an uninvited topic of conversation online. Last Wednesday, while she was photographed and interviewed for this cover, a video circulated of Palmer, clad in a sheer black dress with a bodysuit underneath, getting serenaded by Usher at one of his Las Vegas residency concerts. Darius Daulton Jackson, the father of her child, saw the video and tweeted his criticisms of Palmer for her outfit choice, later doubling down on his stance when her fans swarmed his replies. While on set and by the time we spoke, Palmer hadn’t yet engaged, but internet bystanders rallied around her, forming a sort of virtual shield attempting to protect her and, in turn, shunning him.

Interior Ridley Dress, available at interior.nyc.Van Cleef & Arpels Folie des Prés Ring featuring diamonds set in 18K white gold and Lotus Between the Finger Ring featuring diamonds set in 18K white gold, available at vancleefarpels.com.Photo: Micaiah Carter

Even though the 29-year-old actor and producer finds herself in an entirely different life stage from me, it’s impossible to shake the feeling that we grew up together or that we have some sort of shared history. Not in a traditional sense, of course, considering she’s been a movie star since the tender age of 10, but by way of having a front-row seat to her organic matriculation through life, from project to project. She starred as a strong-willed spelling-bee champ in Akeelah and the Bee, a double-Dutch savant on the Disney Channel movie Jump In!, and a teen fashion executive on True Jackson, VP, and many of us who were once precocious little girls watched a young Palmer on the screen with awe as she evolved into the powerhouse we know her as today. By the time she was getting Oscar buzz for roles in more grown-up fare, like Lorene Scafaria’s Hustlers (based on a true story originally reported in this magazine) and Jordan Peele’s Nope (a New York Times critic’s pick that won her widespread acclaim and an invitation to the Academy this summer), we became acquainted with Palmer in her role as a serious, well-adjusted, fully fledged actor. And, of course, along the way was her music career, which she’s still working on, anchored by her song “Bottoms Up,” a pivotal moment in the Zeitgeist for teenage girls everywhere. (She released a sequel of sorts to the track last year.)

In the same way we’ve come to know her, she feels as though she’s come to know us: “I do feel like America’s little sister, little cousin. I feel very much so related to everybody,” she tells me. “I’m like that second cousin that you see every two years at the family reunion.”

Now, as she branches off into newer, more experimental ventures with KeyTV, an avenue for Palmer to support other young creatives of color, and her podcast, Baby, This Is Keke Palmer, on which she has interviewed guests like Vice-President Kamala Harris (Palmer asked her to clarify both if she does have a silk press and what policies should be developed to deal with the maternal mortality crisis), John Stamos, and fellow child stars Aly and AJ Michalka, Palmer is entering her “big boss era,” as she’s dubbed it.

Online, Palmer is generally unafraid to discuss potentially taboo topics, like acne and breast milk, while also finding ways to inject humor into whatever she’s speaking about. From “Sorry to this man” to “You know it’s your girlllll,” she has kept the culture quenched with a steady stream of delightful sound bites, which inevitably become endearing memes. Admittedly, as a self-described citizen of the internet, she loves this too: “When people see themselves in me enough to repost a meme or use a GIF, it really humanizes me in a way that I think sometimes feels lost in my life,” she says. “So I really do feel appreciative of being a meme.”

Philosophy di Lorenzo Serafini Black Eco Leather Skirt and Cropped Long Sleeve Top, available at Neiman Marcus. Alexander McQueen Punk Ankle Strap Pump, available at alexandermcqueen.com. Van Cleef & Arpels A Cheval Earrings featuring diamonds set in 18K white gold and Folie des Prés Pendant featuring diamonds set in 18K white gold, available at vancleefarpels.com. Photo: Micaiah Carter

There are a lot of moms hyping you up online right now, defending your integrity. What’s something you would say to them?

Do you, new moms. Do you. Girl, if there’s one person on this earth that loves you for sure, it’s that baby. Be happy, because there’s no love like it. Somebody loving you like that, hell, who cares?

You just had a baby, you host a podcast, and you also started a production company called KeyTV. Tell me what that’s about.

I came from a very traditional space in entertainment, and it was very hard for me to create my own narrative and help get the work that I ended up getting as I’ve continued to evolve as a creator. Because of the internet, I was able to produce and create my own content and make a financial career that invests back into itself. It helps to keep the creativity going, especially when you think about brands and sponsorships. Not a lot of Black creatives get those same opportunities. KeyTV is an opportunity; it’s a way to bridge the gap and feed more eyes back to the work of BIPOC creators, and using my brand as a launchpad. It is inspired a lot by AwesomenessTV.

Let’s talk about Baby, This Is Keke Palmer, your podcast. What made you want to flip the table and start a podcast? Why did you want to be on the other side of an interview? 

I started hosting stuff when I was about 17 or 18. It came from me being a curious person. This was when Twitter started really kind of becoming a thing and you only had so many characters. I wanted a forum where we could discuss the things we’re talking about online with one another. That made me want to have my own talk show that I did shortly on BET for a season. From that moment on, I was always looking for an opportunity. I wanted to bridge the gap between millennial and Gen-Z audiences. That’s always fun for me.

What excites you about talking to somebody you’ve never met before?

That everything is going to be a surprise! I genuinely am so jazzed about life at all times. On regular daytime talk television, you have only a few minutes to really talk about a few things. On a podcast, you can go from talking about aliens to talking about all types of weird stuff. Just from the simple fact that a podcast has no limit.

Which guest has surprised you the most?

When we think about the Black Eyed Peas, we think inspired, fun, wholesome but cool, worldly music that makes people feel good. When I was interviewing Will.i.am., it was just so incredible because that’s in every aspect of what he does, whether it’s in technology or music, because he wants to transfer his mentality.

Who is your dream podcast guest?

I absolutely would love to talk to Taylor Swift. And Nicki Minaj. Both for similar reasons. I would totally do it at the same time because it would be a big boss conversation, Ms. Lady. I think they’re both Sagittariuses and I’m a Sag moon. They’re not afraid to talk about the business, the music industry, and the things that people don’t understand. Nicki Minaj has spoken to the things that she’s trying to overcome and how they’re able to get in certain rooms or awards or conversations, etc. She’s very much so wanting to gun for some old ways of things being done.

And it’s the same thing with Taylor Swift when it was coming to owning her masters and just … I’ve also talked a lot about my experience in the music industry, but I just think it’s really cool when you can sit down with your peers and you can discuss the real deal that goes on behind the scenes with the industry.

To hear from us three women would be great. Obviously, I can name a whole list of people that have done similar things. We could talk about Master P., we could talk about Tyler Perry, we could talk about Beyoncé, the list goes on. But those are just two that most recently had spoken about these things. We could have a really good deep conversation and unpacking lyrics because Nicki writes down, and so does Ms. Swift. It’s giving astral projection, it’s giving lucid dreaming.

So when you’re being interviewed now, do you, ahem, judge the interviewer’s questions from a different lens?

I don’t want to say judge, but I definitely try to figure out where we can go. I’m always willing to go somewhere. When I’m talking to people, I’m obviously giving them the respect of knowing whatever their boundaries are. But when they’re answering, I’m thinking, Well, where else would they want this to lead to?Another thing I’ve learned is that pre-conversations are really awesome because you can talk to that person about where their headspace is, what kind of things are most important to them right now.

Well, then let me backtrack a little bit, because we didn’t get to have much of a pre-conversation. What’s your mental headspace and what’s important to you today?

After having my baby, I’ve just gotten so much more powerful. I’m just so strengthened in a crazy way. Strutting my stuff, enjoying. I’ll be honest, I think before I even had the baby, I was really actually quite self-conscious. In a way that you would expect, considering the kind of work that I do as a public figure. Always trying to be on point with my body and always trying to make sure I’m taking care of this and that. There’s a lot of physical attention. Being slim and being fit in a particular way was always something that I was gunning for. After having the baby, my body got so much bigger and I started getting fluff in areas I never had before.

Givenchy 3/4 Sleeve Sweater Front Crystal Chain and Embroidered Midi Skirt, available at givenchy.com. Van Cleef & Arpels A Cheval Earrings featuring diamonds set in 18K white gold and Brume de Saphir Bracelet featuring sapphires and diamonds set in 18K white gold, available at vancleefarpels.com. Photo: Micaiah Carter

Obviously I don’t know you like that, but when I see you from the outside, you have always seemed like a woman and a girl who’s always stood in her own power. Sometimes women are expected to shrink, and I feel like when I see you, I don’t see a woman who shrinks.

I think it’s important to say that both things can be true, which I’m sure you know. I’m ready to talk to you, you are also very confident, but both things can be true. I speak to my insecurities and it actually makes me feel more confident. Because I’m not trying to hide. When I really talked about my skin issues and stuff like that, it was really for me.

As I confront my issues head-on and I’m like, “Well, I feel terrible about this,” or, “This ain’t work for me,” I turn it into a joke, but I don’t ignore it. I try not to hide it. Confident people, it’s not that they’re not insecure, it’s that they just accept the fact that they’re going to have some insecurities, work on them when they can, and love themselves. Because at the end of the day, what else are you going to do? Hate yourself for who you’re not?

This is a weird question, but what would you say your brain looks like, sounds like, and smells like?

Not Jeffrey Dahmer, girl! The inside of my brain smells like vanilla or something warm and cuddly. It smells like something safe. It’s like, Hey, we are here for you. What does it look like? Colorful, shit is like synapses are going, you know what I mean? There are some gray spots. There are definitely some gray spots, but most of all, it’s neons, sparkling, it’s electric. Almost like when you have a PC gaming computer and all the colors that are going on in there. That’s how my brain is. What does it sound like? Shit, Jordin Sparks, “One step at a time, there’s no need to rush.” I’m always in some type of coming-of-age comedy.

I want to walk inside your brain, that sounds nice. On the flip side, you’ve got a lot going on in your life. You’re acting, you’re singing, you have a podcast, you’re a new mom, you’re keeping the culture consistently quenched with delightful sound bites and memes. How do you stay grounded and at peace?

My family, my friends, my loved ones. Keke Palmer’s who I am, but it’s almost like Spider-Man. I’m Peter Parker at the end of the day, and at some point, I have to take the suit off. It’s still me, I’m still there. It’s still Keke and there’s no LaurenShe was born Lauren Keyana Palmer. without Keke. There’s no Keke without Lauren. But it’s just one aspect of who I am. We all have cultural aspects of ourselves that we sometimes bring out more or less than others.

When it comes to being able to get balance in my life, it’s taking off that suit, taking off the Keke Palmer side of myself and putting her to rest. Giving her an opportunity to recharge and relax and also know that the other side of me that maybe isn’t that jazzed up all the time, has a place, is needed, is valued, and able to just breathe. It’s really awesome.

Do you ever wish that you could just be Lauren or Keke part two, Keke without the visibility?

Sure, sure. Yeah, absolutely. Sometimes I feel like I would love a little bit of more anonymity, or at least a version that wasn’t so chaotic. We live in a particular generation where the fame thing is a little bit too much. The way that celebrities are idolized. Popularity to some degree is fine. It’s normal. It could be expected, especially if you’re a public servant or someone that’s a public figure. But now it’s the desire and the goal as opposed to being the aftereffect of being good at something or being known for something. It’s just being known to be known.

Fame used to be a little bit more mayorlike, and now it’s almost gone to some type of godlike vibe. That can be quite dangerous and a lot of pressure. I don’t think any human should be that adored. I’m happy when people say that I’m their role model or I inspire them or whatever. I think the basis of anything I’m trying to do is to lead you to you, toward you. You can rock with me. You can buy into my stuff, you can support me. Obviously, that’s my career. But never do I ever want somebody to think they need to be like me. If they want to be like me in any regard, hopefully it’s to be authentically themselves. Hopefully that is the biggest message that they’re receiving.

When you said mayorlike, I pictured you in a little top hat.

Walking around, Mayor Keke, “Hello there. You know it’s your girl.”

Speaking of “You know it’s your girl,” which was a viral clip taken from your Met Gala red carpet interview with Megan Thee Stallion, how does it feel to consistently become a meme?

I felt like that was a hit movie. “Sorry to this man,” I could not have predicted the “sorry to this man” reaction. It’s crazy, but cool and dope at the same time. It’s randomized how that happens. But it’s a very humbling thing because sometimes as an entertainer, people do not have a safe space for you to be relatable. You probably live a drastically different life than them. But at the end of the day, outside of whatever our daily life activities could be, I’m still going to work. I’m still trying my best, I’m still trying to make it in this workaholic country we’re in, we both got 24 hours and we both just trying to get it done.

And so we all are the same. When people see themselves in me enough to repost a meme or use a GIF, it humanizes me in a way that I think sometimes feels lost in my life. I really do feel appreciative of being a meme. Because what they’re saying is, She’s like me, or they relate to it. It doesn’t get any better than that.

You don’t try to go viral? It just comes naturally, basically?

Nili Lotan Cami Gown, available at nililotan.com.Van Cleef & ArpelsVintage Alhambra 20 Motif Necklace set in 18K white gold and Socrate Pendant featuring diamonds set in 18K white gold, available at vancleefarpels.com. Photo: Micaiah Carter

What keeps you authentic when you are in the public eye? Especially when it could be so much easier, and so many others have gone the route of, Here’s my public persona and I’m going to do everything and be perfect. What is your motivation to be you?

There is such a thing as privacy. I’m not showing y’all my ass at night. I’m a human being. I have things that make me just a normal person. I’m flawed. I definitely try to put my best foot forward. But again, because I don’t like the idealism and I don’t like the kind of era that we are in with fame, I definitely self-deprecate, point to my flaws, constantly say I’m not perfect because I really don’t want people putting me to this unbelievable standard. I don’t live to be a celebrity. I live to do what I love, to share love, to give something positive to the world. Being under a magnifying glass for all of my life, it was kind of a surrender to realizing no matter what I do, it’s never going to be enough, so that’s okay. Let me at least be me.

Are you really online? Do you consume social media? And if so, what does a late-night scrolling sesh look like for you? For me, I’m doing YouTube deep dives of a couple that cosplays like they live in the 1800s. 

I’m always looking at weird stuff too. I’m looking at TikTok. I can get crossed in a conspiracy theory. I can be looking at some new articles online and just all types of random stuff. I’m definitely 100 percent like an internet person. I guess that’s a personality trait. A lot of my friends that I’ve met, even as kids, were online. Through chat or MySpace. I’ll see somebody’s page online or I’ll check somebody’s life out and I’m like, I want that person to be my friend. I feel like online literally gives us the opportunity to see in other people’s worlds, to reach things that we otherwise didn’t get to reach. I really do use it as a tool and I really respect it. Especially growing up, being in the entertainment industry, being homeschooled, not having a real school, I really was appreciative of online.

Now that you made me think of it, somebody else that I would love to talk to would be Tom from MySpace. What he created really helped my life because I didn’t have any other way to be friends. I might be a celebrity, but in my mind, in my world, I felt like an outcast. I turned to the internet where I could create space for me, and build my world and have friends and feel like I was normal. It all feels very full circle, me being a meme queen. The internet is a place that I’ve always loved and adored and felt like I could be myself, and in a way, that is a space that was not always given to me in real life. That’s why we all played The Sims too.

Do you think the human race is better or worse off with social media?

I think it’s better, but not when you don’t use it right. When I was talking to Will.i.am about it, he was definitely like, “Yo, I would much rather be in a world where there’s AI and all this kind of stuff than in a world that it’s not.” With the internet, the problem is that it’s extremely powerful and it can be used in bad ways and people have used it in bad ways, and that’s what scares us. But when we use it in good ways, man, we’re able to really do some incredible things.

You recently interviewed Vice-President Kamala Harris and asked her about her silk press. You also used the phrase “poop on a stick�� in the interview, which knocked me on my knees. What does podcast prep before you start the conversation look like for you?

It’s different each time. I have support with my producing team. I always script out the top halves of my show. And then the other halves of them are obviously just conversation, but I have bullet points or CliffsNotes of what I want to discuss and talk to whoever I’m having on with me that may not be the actual interview guest, whether it’s my mom or whether it’s Darius or whether it’s Max. We’ll kind of discuss what our POVs are. That way we all know that we have some unique perspective on the topic. When it comes to the interviewee, as much as I have questions that I want to ask them, I also listen and just try to see where their conversation would take us.

Anyone you’ve been nervous to record with?

I was nervous for Kamala.

Who wouldn’t be?

For Madam VP, I was definitely nervous because I wanted to give respect to what she’s trying to do and have a conversation about it while at the same time humanizing the conversation because there’s a huge disconnect, in my opinion, with our generation in the government. It’s beyond just getting people to vote. There’s a bigger flaw where we don’t believe in the system. It’s how to get people to believe that there’s a reason to support our public servants and actually believe that they’re going to be good at their job or they’re going to be worth us listening to. It’s about asking important questions, but also, are you a person in there?

We need to see that these people are real. We need to know why they wanted to get into these positions. A lot of this is starting to look like a joke and has been a joke and looks like a reality show and it just seems like a big money grab and it just doesn’t seem real. But there’s no way to work in any system of anything and be perfectly perfect or do something that’s totally agreeable.

The point is to get to a place where we can at least feel like somebody is human and touchable and real, that they can be reached even if they are working within a system that is clearly flawed and corrupt. We need them to speak to that. I was happy when I was talking to Kamala, Madam VP, excuse me, about this topic. She was saying to me that she knows that people don’t believe, and that’s why she’s doing it. She knows what she’s working against. I wanted that interview to be something that we felt was real so we can actually be engaged. Because right now, honey, it’s giving, like, stale news variety show.

I listened to another episode where you talked about being a child star and you said if you weren’t an entertainer, you may have gone into politics. Would you ever go into politics now?

I don’t know what role I would play.

President?

Well, let’s think about it. What is the president’s job, really? Because he can’t change no laws for real. I mean, they can, but it’s like they really aren’t the ones that are doing that work. If the president’s job is to be a figurehead, speak to the issues, encourage the people, represent them and create a positive democracy and good morale, then, yeah, I mean, I could. This is the concept of politics I love because it’s being a public servant. Child, sign me up. I love being a public servant. I love being serviceable.

I know a lot of people don’t think about entertainment as that, but, I mean, I am still doing a service. I’m literally tapping and singing and dancing for you to laugh and enjoy. I’m trying to serve you, for sure. That’s something I’ve already been doing all my life. So in that regard, yes, the part of politics that makes things difficult is feeling like that I believe in what I’m doing and that I can actually believe that I can get something done. If I was going to ever go into politics, it would be because I really believed that I could fix some shit or figure something out. So I think that’s what it would really take is for me to feel like I could actually be useful.

Would you consider yourself America’s sweetheart?

Girl, that is crazy as hell.

Come on.

If that is what the people think, I’m truly gagged and gooped because, wow. I don’t even know what that entails, truly, what that really means. But, by golly, if you all feel like I’m America’s sweetheart, I’m fucking here for that shit all day and night. I appreciate it because it feels like a term of endearment. But what do I think? If I were to declare myself, I do feel like America’s little sister, little cousin.

Roland Mouret Strapless Velvet Mini Dress, available at rolandmouret.com. Van Cleef & Arpels Folie des Prés Ring featuring diamonds set in 18K white gold, Lotus Between the Finger Ring featuring diamonds set in 18K white gold, and A Cheval Earrings featuring diamonds set in 18K white gold, all available at vancleefarpels.com. Photo: Micaiah Carter

Like a lot of people in their late 20s, I feel like I grew up with you, and whatever project you were involved with seemed to mirror whatever life stage I was going through at the time. What was child stardom like for you, and what was it like to have so many eyes on you at such a young age?

Honestly speaking, initially it was traumatic when I really experienced it, like after I did True Jackson, VP. And then I got used to it and I tried to kind of control it a little bit more by setting boundaries for myself and being a little bit more realistic about what I needed from the people that would be around me. Fame is a lot. People think that they want it, but it’s intense. It could be fun and cool in certain times if it can possibly help you get quicker dinner reservations. But a good job will do that. You know, you don’t have to be famous. You just have to network.

I don’t know why anybody wants it. It’s a lot to have a lot of attention on you all the time. It gives you a lot of anxiety. It’s nerve-racking. You’re looking over your shoulder all the time. Is somebody going to try and humiliate me or use me for clicks or likes or, you know, whatever? Not everybody can handle it. It’s just a dangerous game.

Time for a few rapid-fire questions. Do you think aliens exist?

Yes.

Would you ever explore the deep sea?

No.

What would your last meal be? You can have multiple courses or just one bite of something and then move on. It can be anything. Multiple things.

A charcuterie board. I always needed a charcuterie board. I need to start off with a charcuterie board and a nice tall glass of wine. Then, I’d like to take it to a big pizza. From Little Italy in New York. A particular pizza place called Little Italy’s in New York. There’s one right across the street from Papaya Dog.It’s the sauce that they do that makes it what it is. If this is the last meal, I don’t need it to be fancy, I just need it to be good. And, lastly, some snickerdoodle cookies. We got to make it feel like home again.

What do you think happens when we die?

I think we go to nothing. And, I mean that so happily, not in a sad way. I feel like, before we come to our human bodies, we already are in a utopia. The reason why it’s a utopia is because it’s like everything and nothing at the same time. We’re beholden to nothing, we have no attachments, we’re completely and utterly free, and we know in whatever this energy space is that we are all interconnected. So there’s such a freedom and such a happiness. It’s not necessarily we’re riding roller coasters and stuff. We don’t need those things. The happiness and joy is purely innately within us as a spiritual being.

And then I think we come here and we put this suit on, and the suit is actually what makes life really hard, because what comes with humanity and being a human person, as opposed to being an animal, or a rock, or something like that, is our very heightened consciousness and awareness that is sometimes competitive with our spiritual thing that doesn’t actually need words, or language, or actions to just be and understand. And we confuse ourselves when we’re down here.

I think, when we die, we realize, Oh my gosh. It wasn’t that deep. I was always going to be okay. Everything was always going to be all right. Because, this world, this experience is everything and nothing at the same time. It’s so nothingness that it became everything. I think that’s odd. But, I mean, I grew up Catholic. I believe in Jesus. I believe in all the shits. But at the same time, I also feel like some things are like a mixture of spirituality and metaphysical stuff. I go down on the loops. But I be in church too. I’m everywhere with it.

If you could live forever, would you? Absolutely not. No, there’s nothing about that that sounds good. No, no, no, no, no, no, no.

That sounds crazy. I want to have a nice, good long life. I don’t want to be that grandma that’s holding on for dear life and her body falling apart. Let me go looking fine and sexy in my sleep naturally. I don’t want my body to be just turned inside out and I’m like, “I’m still here, kids.” No. Unplug me if I’m falling apart.

What is the most interesting thing in your bag right now?

The truth is, I only carry around one bag. And it’s the mommy bag. And you know what it has in there? My pump, my nipple cream, some contacts, and some prenatal vitamins, post-prenatal lactation supplements.

What is the question that keeps you up at night?

What is this about? I always ask myself, What’s the reason? What is the reason for this all?

That’s beautiful. Can you spell pulchritude?

Of course I can. P-U-L-C-H-R-I-T-U-D-E. Pulchritude?

What does the future look like? What does it look like five years from now, or even in the next few months?

I’m going to continue to be killing these fashions, honey. Continue to expand. I can’t really say exactly what it’s going to be, because I feel like I’m even surprised sometimes about where I end up. But definitely more hosting, and acting, and all that stuff. A lot more stuff behind the scenes too. I really do love producing, and I love helping put stuff together and support people. With KeyTV, we made a short film with a kid from L.A. Film School, supported him with a production crew, and collaborated from different perspectives. I was grateful. To be close in age with him was awesome, too. I’m in a unique vantage point to be able to communicate, and talk, and relate, but also have wisdom that is granted only through the experience that I’ve had.

This interview has been edited and condensed for clarity.

PRODUCTION CREDITS

Photography by Micaiah Carter

Fashion Director Jessica Willis

Hair by Keshaun Williamson

Makeup by Sheika Daley

Manicure by Vanessa Sanchez McCullough

Set Design by Ali Gallagher

Tailoring by Susie Kourinian

Production by Petty Cash Production

TAGS:

CUT COVERS

KEKE PALMER

CELEBRITY

CULTURE

MORE

Sent from my iPhone

[ambitionsource]

AMBITION Season 4 ♫ “’Tis The Damn Season” [ 4.06 ]

CREATED BY Esther (waterstribe) & Maggie (quincywillows) || Official Page || AO3

WHEN FRIENDS COME TO CALL — Winter break arrives in the city, bringing many a homecoming with it. Riley organizes a gift exchange. Long-awaited reunions force some emotional revelations, and one duo makes a decision that will change their lives forever.

84 Minutes (47K words) || No content warnings apply.

[ ← Thank You, Next ] [ S4 Synopsis ] [ Resolution → ]

( Follow along with the music on Spotify here! )

RECAP

Over the shot of Thanksgiving at Jack and Eric’s, when their makeshift family takes a photograph together:

Charlie, voiceover: Previously, on AMBITION…

Thanksgiving break made for some interesting holiday experiences. While Maya and Josh managed to put aside their egos and craft a guaranteed pop hit that’s yet to hit the airwaves, Farkle found himself mouse-trapped in a Knives Out era family saga of Hollywood old money. One that his boyfriend Jordan neglected to warn him about beforehand, claiming it would make for a more authentic performance in guilt-tripping his homophobic grandparents.

Jordan: Our love, Minkus, it’s radical. Some people aren’t ready for it yet. That’s why, through our art and our collaboration, we get to make them see it.

In spite of his understandable discomfort, Farkle let him convince him to let it go… and immersed himself even deeper in the whirlwind romance. For better or worse.

Jordan: It’s you and me, Minkus. You and me against the world.

Farkle: You and me.

At the same time, relationship complications crashed into other duos as well. Zay and Vanessa had to confront the sticky friction of their past as it bred distrust in the present, clashing with Vanessa’s own uncertainty about what she wants versus what others expect of her -- including Zay himself, who seemingly has no hesitation about what he wants. Even if pursuing that continues to leave him alone in the cold one way or another. But they were able to talk it through, apparently committing to a true go at whatever their relationship may be. Meanwhile, Nigel and Jade had to face the building tensions in their romance, supplemented by their dynamics with NYU “friends” and Anya Kelly finally revealing their true toxic colors. As they both recognized how far from their ideal paths they’d drifted this semester, they came back together, hoping to find middle ground and one more chance to get it right.

Jade: Can we just be us again?

On that front, only time will tell. Their angst is nothing compared to Isa and Lucas, though, who cannot seem to make the roommate friction abate. It’s only getting worse, immature antics escalating, compounding on pressures Isa is already feeling about school and family and the like -- particularly when Professor Bennet implies they don’t think Isa really wants to be there right now. In a fit of lashing out, Isa stole Lucas’s signature boots and hid them away, not realizing how important and a measure of comfort a seemingly insignificant object can mean to a person.

Even so, Lucas managed to survive the holiday at Topanga’s in borrowed shoes… that is, until Riley nudged them into leaving early after facing yet another insinuation that she’s too good for Lucas from her mother. A pattern she’s becoming increasingly tired of, the more and more people seem to cast doubt on her ability to know what’s best. The two of them ditched and had a much better holiday spent with Jack and Eric at their place -- Grace brought along for the occasion too.

Jack: This is worth it. This is worth being thankful for.

Eric: To family.

Charlie also managed to make it back to New York for the holiday, but only after a cross-country trek with an unexpected guest. Yindra opted to tag along as she fled from the uncertainties plaguing her existence in Los Angeles, the trip turning out to be a deep, impactful experience that will bond the two of them for life. With secrets shared and friendship forged, the two travelers finally made it back to Manhattan, Charlie embracing his beloved city with a flourish in the only way AMBITION folks know how.

Charlie: And bring me home at last!

It’s that time of year, and with one holiday, another closely follows. This month, though, everyone is back, which means many a long-awaited reunion as unpredictable as snow in December.

Grab some hot cocoa and buckle up, because the holiday season is here in AMBITION.

End of recap.

EXT. UPSTATE NEW YORK - DAY

Song Cue ♫ ♪ “Christmas Tree Farm” as performed by Taylor Swift || Performed by Dylan Orlando & Asher Garcia (feat. AMBITION Ensemble)

The dramatic violins send us cascading into the episode, starting wide over the city of Rochester. We ease in along with the orchestration to a community college campus, then zero in on one window of a non-descript dorm building.

The first person to greet us this episode is the opposite of nondescript. DYLAN ORLANDO appears on the other side of the frosted glass, looking out theatrically towards the winter grey. He launches into the opening notes, lamenting the stressors of the season and making Taylor proud with his committed delivery. When the line cues it, he closes his eyes, wistfully singing of a different place.

But I close my eyes, and I’m somewhere else Just like magic…

The orchestra keys up and brings in the jingle bells, kicking us into gear. Before it really takes off, Dylan opens his eyes to peek directly at the camera -- and gives us a knowing smirk and eyebrow wiggle.

Then he spins away from the window, drawing the blinds closed with a flourish --

EXT. CHRISTMAS TREE FARM - DAY

When he spins around again, he’s relocated to a familiar Christmas tree farm, the one from 104 and How the Twinks Saved Christmas. Dylan’s now wearing his signature red beanie and donning an adorable and appropriately vivid yellow winter coat.

He bounces his way through the rows of trees and sings through the first verse and chorus of the song, dancing and harmonizing with other folks at the farm as he goes. Some of these faces are familiar, as other cast members return for the holidays -- DAVE WILLIAMS, JEFF MONROE, DARBY WINTERS, and CHAI FRESCO, just to name a few.

As he goes along collecting pals, ASHER GARCIA picks up the second verse around 90 seconds in. He emerges from a row of trees and cheerfully makes his way towards the center promenade, reuniting with Dylan by the time they make it to the second chorus. Now in harmony, they lead the way along the snowy walkway, their peers following along behind.

INT. AAA - AUDITORIUM - DAY

In another classic tradition of the season, Duet Dasher are back! The 50’s-styled holiday doo-wop duo from the holiday special are back at the standing microphone on the theoretical AAA stage, and this time they’ve brought friends. The entire main ensemble and returning A class members are assembled on the stage behind them like a gospel choir, similarly dressed in era-appropriate holiday garb.

They echo the exclamation of the bridge while Dylan enthusiastically strums his guitar.

And when I’m feeling alone, you remind me of home Baby, baby, merry Christmas!

EXT. CHRISTMAS TREE FARM - DAY

On the slower part of the bridge, we’re just with Dylan and Asher, who are following their pattern of taking a soft moment to serenade one another during their numbers. They pass the gentle harmonies back and forth, clearly still as in sync and in love as ever (in case anyone had any doubt during their absence), spinning around one another and then slowly walking along the rows of trees.

When they make it to the main path again (“and telling me…”), Dylan holds up a piece of mistletoe over their heads. Asher grins, then leans in as if he’s going to oblige… only to playfully spin away and take his hand, leading him back towards the camera at a run as they finish out the bridge.

I love you-hoo-hoo-hoo!

EXT. CHRISTMAS TREE FARM - DAY

Then we’re jingle bell rocking right to the finish, Dylan and Asher leading the full ensemble in bouncy, cheerful choreography in the snow. Everyone is in their best, most adorable winter gear, smiles bright, delivering true musical excellence in a fashion we haven’t seen in quite a bit since we left AAA.

Once they finish the final lines and we descend into the closing oohs, the ensemble breaks into cheers. They shift to greeting one another, gleefully reuniting. Asher is engulfed in a hug by JADE BEAMON; RILEY MATTHEWS jumps onto Dylan’s back while ISA DE LA CRUZ comes at him from the side. CHARLIE GARDNER shares a tight sandwich of a hug with CLARISSA CRUZ and HALEY FISHER.

Welcome home, A class -- and let the holiday break commence!

Cue title sequence.

EXT. NEW YORK STREETS - DAY

A gentle snow is falling over Manhattan, dusting the sidewalks but not deterring the city dwellers in the slightest as they make their way all bundled up for the cold. As we ease down the block and approach the familiar street where our favorite diner is located, we catch a glimpse through the windows of one booth in particular…

INT. CHUBBIES - DAY

Where Riley is finally, finally having her reunion with Charlie as promised. They’ve already gotten the hugging out of the way but she’s clearly still so delighted to see him again, clasping his hands across the table in excitement. He’s thoroughly amused, but equally glad to see her too.

Riley: I can’t believe how long it’s been. It feels like it’s been five hundred thousand years.

Charlie: And some change.

Riley: I mean, look at you! Look at you! [ leaning across the table as if she’s going to cup his face ] You look so good, you’re glowing. And you seem so happy, and you’re -- I mean, you’re tan!

Charlie bursts into laughter, only the slightest bit bashful. “Tan” might be a bit generous, but he definitely did get a healthy amount of sun this summer and in SoCal. She’s right about the glow, though -- he looks alive, full of energy and much more openly himself.

Riley: It’s exactly how I hoped you’d be when you came back. So it’s really, really good to see it.

Charlie: Well, thanks. And sorry it’s taken so long. I swear, you were my first call as promised.

Riley: Damn right I was.

Charlie: I just literally haven’t had a second to breathe since I got back before Thanksgiving. First the whole family flew to Maine to have the actual holiday with the full Gardner clan, so that was a whole thing. Basically a family reunion if there ever was one, naturally, so I barely even got time to actually talk to my immediate family, because everyone wanted to know what I did all summer.

Riley: Oh, I bet. I’d want to know too. Surely you gave them an abridged version.

Charlie: Heavily redacted, yes, but it was plenty to satisfy their curiosity. So then after that weekend, we go back to spend a few days longer with Agatha and John at their place in Pennsylvania, and for good reason… considering there’s a brand new baby on our family tree.

Riley gasps. Shut up. She immediately asks for picture proof and Charlie happily delivers, pulling up his phone to show her the photos. True to his word, the next generation of Gardner children has begun! There’s a particularly adorable photo of Charlie holding the baby, looking both in awe and overwhelmed.

Riley: Oh my God. That’s so amazing.

Charlie: It was pretty amazing, yeah. It’s crazy to think that I’m like, an uncle now. I feel like I need to be thirty years older for that to kick in.

Riley: Your old soul will help you catch up.

Charlie: I’m definitely already awkward enough. [ off her hand wave of dismissal ] So there was that, and we were there for a few days, but then I ended up staying even longer because John told me that he wanted to do more bonding with me, like as “the men” of the family or whatever, and so he hoped I’d stay for a couple days longer. Do some hikes and stuff. And what was I gonna do, say no? It was nice of him to even have that thought, and to be honest, it’s like impossible to say no to John Duffy.

Riley: Would love to meet him someday. Truly.

Charlie: So I didn’t get back to New York until after the start of the month, and then I got dragged back out again because of course, Bridgette wasn’t invited to any of the previous stuff and she wanted some dedicated time to catch up with me. So I spent a couple of days with her out on this adventure in Rhode Island she had all mapped out, and that was really fun, but I was basically ready to drop by the time I came back and actually got to be by myself for more than two minutes. I’ve loved traveling, don’t get me wrong, but I’m a bit burnt out on it now.

Riley: I can imagine.

Charlie: But even then, there was an obligatory weekend of like, spending time with the rest of my immediate family, telling them about everything, and of course I had to do the rounds at church on Sunday and answer a million questions to the church ladies who wanted to know every single detail of my trip and what I did and who I met and did I meet any promiscuous foreign girls who might snatch me away for good? God forbid, away from Riley, my one true love here in the States?

Riley cracks up, shaking her head. Ah, the mythos at his church…

Charlie: So then I just needed like… a few days to just decompress and be by myself and stay in bed with my dog. Which was also good, because that gave me time to unpack and everything. But then, when I was ready to reemerge in the world, as promised I swear you were my first call.

Riley beams, obviously proud of that fact. And it’s great to catch up and hear all this, but as he understands it, they may not even have much time in the next couple of days to do that. Riley is going to Philly to join Cory’s family for an “early Christmas” celebration, since everyone seems to have other plans on the actual holiday. At this point, her grandma is so desperate to get all of them in one place Riley’s afraid if they don’t go there will be blood.

Charlie: Are you excited? At all?

Riley: Oh, sure. I mean, I love my family. Really, I do. They can just be… a lot. And that’s fitting, considering I also am a lot, but it’s just… suffice to say the Matthews are quite the dramatic crew.

Charlie: I guess that makes sense, given your uncle is a former wannabe actor.

That’s just the tip of the iceberg. Anyway, she’s glad that Jack will be there this year for the first time, and it’ll be a relief to not have to deal with Topanga for another holiday. But she is bummed that it’s taking her out of the city as soon as most folks are coming back.

Thankfully, there’s already something on the calendar planned to alleviate this. Basically as soon as she gets back from Philly, she’ll be headed back here to Chubbies where she’s planned to host a holiday reunion gathering for all their friends and peers from Adams.

Charlie is looking forward to that, and assures her he’ll be there. He’s equally excited about the Secret Snowflake gift exchange she organized -- he’s been working hard to curate his gift for his person outside of finalizing his college applications. Riley definitely wants to know more about that, but Charlie’s all ready for her interest, pulling out a nifty sheet he prepared that lists all the places he applied and what he likes about them -- his reasons, not his mother’s or anyone else’s. Riley’s expression brightens and she eagerly takes the page, claiming he knows her so well.

She also notes she’s happy he’s keen for the gift exchange. When she first proposed the idea, she wasn’t sure how well it would go over. But based on how everyone seems to be doing okay so far, she figures everyone has realized it was a brilliant idea and is going to have so much fun with it.

INT. NYU APARTMENT - DAY

Yeah, not quite. Isa is not optimistic, stressed about finding the right thing to give their chosen person and wondering why they succumbed to this torture anyway. They can’t possibly be expected to know what to get someone. Why did they let Riley’s adorable enthusiasm weaken their resolve?

LUCAS JAMES FRIAR shrugs from his spot on the couch, where he’s also finishing up college-related paperwork. His deferment materials and reapplication for scholarship are going to be due soon, even though given Kenneth’s health decline it kind of feels pointless at this rate.

Lucas: Dude, why are you venting to me about this? You know I’m gonna be no help. I suck at gifts too. I just feel bad for the person I got that they’re stuck with me.

Isa: Why? Why did we let ourselves fall victim to this vicious, sick holiday tradition?

Lucas, deadpan: Because Riley is a force unlike anything else on Earth and cannot be thwarted. Resistance is futile.

Maybe so. Isa isn’t comforted by that though. Lucas points out if they’re that blitzed about the person they got, they could just ask Riley to swap.

Isa: Ugh, no. I already tried that.

INT. NYU APARTMENT - FLASHBACK - DAY

And thus we get a glimpse of it, the flashback occurring in a frame that is just slightly blue-tinted as if by frost. Isa asks for the opportunity to change their giftee, and Riley hears them out, but only out of politeness.

Riley: Why? You didn’t get Maya, did you?

Isa: No. But…

Riley: Is there some deadly, catastrophic reason you couldn’t possibly give your person a gift and thus requires you to break the sanctity of the gift exchange tradition by manipulating the results given to you by fate itself?

Isa: … [ disgruntled ] No…

With that, Riley grins. Got ‘em -- good luck, Isa!

INT. NYU APARTMENT - DAY

Suffice to say, Riley does not take the ethics of a gift exchange lightly. So rules are rules, and everyone is tied by the red string to whom they picked. Happy holidays!

Lucas empathizes with Isa, but again, there’s not much either of them can do. Unless they want to disappoint Riley, which is a major no-go. So they’re going to have to suck it up.

Lucas: Anyway, this should be easy for you. Now that you have like a million dollars in Val money, just get something expensive that anyone would like. At least it’ll be worth something so they won’t have any right to get upset.

Not a bad plan. But Isa doesn’t seem comforted by that fact. It’s not that they can’t think of anything to get this person…

It’s that they aren’t sure they can face this person at all. Once Lucas heads to Riley’s room, Isa pulls out their phone and goes to the email revealing their selected giftee.

“You’re giving a gift to: Farkle.”

And that knowledge has haunted them since. Isa chews their lip and then locks their phone, fleeing from the impending responsibility for another day.

INT. MINKUS HOME - DAY

FARKLE MINKUS, on the other hand, is in good spirits. It appears good to be back in the city, and back in the familiar trappings of home. He’s leisurely meandering around the apartment that morning, noshing on leftovers his family seemingly always has in abundance this time of year. URI MINKUS makes a comment about it as he passes by him to leave.

Uri: You’re like a fricking hamster. You’re gonna get the freshman fifteen in the two weeks you’re home.

Farkle rolls his eyes, swatting at Uri but missing as he’s too fast in his escape. JENNIFER MINKUS chides Uri for his commentary and reminds him to text when he gets where he’s going, then joins Farkle on the opposite side of the kitchen island.

Jennifer: I, on the other hand, think you should eat more. I’m sure they’re not feeding you enough out there in L.A. I’ve read the reviews of USC’s nutritionists, and I’m not impressed.

Farkle: Mom, I eat fine. Promise. [ snacking again ] Though nothing beats the tastes of home.

Jennifer: Don’t flatter me. But do go on.

It’s clear that Jennifer is very glad to have Farkle home, too. They all are. In fact, she notes that when he has the time, Farkle should make a concerted effort to hang out with his younger brothers while he’s here -- Ezra has missed him terribly, of course, and Uri could likely use his advice more than he lets on. Given he’s getting into the harder classes at the gifted school now and struggling to handle having his first girlfriend (which he’s neglected to officially tell them about but naturally Jennifer knows because a yenta always knows), he could probably use the brotherly guidance.

Farkle: [ with amusement ] Well, I can help with the school stuff, but not sure I’ll be any help with the girls. He should talk to Raziel, he’s the only one of us who’s managed to marry off.

Jennifer gives him a look. It didn’t come up when they spent Hanukkah in Belgium, so seems he missed his prime chance. And Farkle shouldn’t be so self-deprecating -- he’s got a significant other too now! A fact which is evidently of great delight to his mother. She wants to know all about him, and is dying to hear more, but she doesn’t miss checking in on the person she once believed would be occupying this role in her son’s life.

Jennifer: How is Maya doing? You came home together, right? I hope she’s keeping you in good company out there. Any successes yet?

Farkle falters a bit. It’s not that things are bad, but they never really addressed the awkwardness from Thanksgiving, and that coldness has lingered into the journey home. He doesn’t want it to be there, but he isn’t sure how to get rid of it either.

For now, he brushes it aside, keeping it vague and opting to discuss the much more exciting topic of the new boyfriend.

INT. HART APARTMENT - KITCHEN - DAY

MAYA HART is happily back in her apartment, yet it’s a bit awkward to be there in the space Isa so graciously donated to her family when they’re no longer on speaking terms. That tension ebbs as soon as KATY HART rejoins her, though, carrying two mugs of tea with peppermint sticks poking out of them. Maya beams, taking the hot drink gratefully and taking a long sip.

Katy also asks how Maya feels about being back in the city, which she confirms is a nice feeling. She’s actually quite excited about the little social dates she’s got lined up, surprised by how much she’s looking forward to reuniting with Adams’ peers. There’s also Riley’s big holiday shindig planned.

Maya: Honestly, can always count on Matthews to bring it all together. If she ever gives up the game, we’re all doomed to obscurity.

It’s her natural talent! She also briefly mentions the gift exchange, noting that she has Nigel. Katy asks if she’s stressed about that.

Maya: Please, no. Nigel is like the easiest person on Earth to get stuff for, since he’s like a high-ranking noble in the cult of Shakespeare.

She’s more curious -- and concerned -- to see who got her. There’s a handful of folks in Riley’s little social circle she’s sure are less than fond of her, and she dreads ending up getting nothing out of a good gift exchange because God forbid Asher Garcia picked her name out of a digital hat.

In any case, she was able to get some help for the gift from Justin and Melissa, who have connections in the industry. This prompts Katy to ask more about how that’s going, and how she’s feeling about L.A. as a whole. Maya also pauses, the unpleasant feelings from what happened during Thanksgiving immediately bubbling to the surface…

But she pushes it all down and focuses on the shiny positives, eagerly pulling out her phone to show her mom the demo cut of “LolliPop.”

INT. JOSH’S APARTMENT - DAY

JOSH MATTHEWS is doing the same that morning in Los Angeles, giving ANDREW HALL a sneak preview of the track to procrastinate on packing. Even Andrew has to admit the song is a bop -- he thought “On My Grind (O.M.G.)” was overhyped, though it’s not clear if that’s because of the song or out of loyalty to Josh.

Josh proudly explains that the track is likely to hit the Internet by the end of the month, so he’s eagerly awaiting whenever that drop happens. He wishes he had more information, but Justin and Melissa have essentially taken over since they first passed over the track after Thanksgiving. Not all information trickles down the chain to him, unfortunately. But it’ll just be cool to finally have his credit on an epic, bound-to-be-popular track.

Andrew: I’m happy for you, man. Mainly because if you finally scratch this itch perhaps you’ll calm the fuck down a little.

But in all seriousness, he’s proud of him. Until the track drops, however, Josh has to steel himself for the trial that is going back to Philly for a holiday. Andrew reminds him he just has to get through the coming week, and then he’ll be in NYC to host him for New Year’s.

One of those prospects is clearly more appealing than the other. Josh sighs, trudging back towards his room to finish packing.

INT. NYU - FILM CLASSROOM - DAY

CHELSEA SCHWARTZ is giving her last speech of the semester, thanking the students for their hard work and wishing them all the best for next semester. Although she’s not as fortunate as some of their other professors who get to spend all year with them, she believes in each of their abilities and hopes to see them again in a class sometime soon. Most of the class seems bummed to be saying goodbye, as most are with their most fun teacher.

Isa looks especially so. In a semester full of confusion, frustration, and male-dominated spaces, Schwartz’s classroom has felt like a safe haven. When class is dismissed, they hang back specifically to tell her so, thanking her for taking them seriously and always supporting them.

Chelsea: Of course, Isa. It’s the least I could do, one talented badass filmmaker to another.

See? That’s what they’re talking about. Isa smiles. Speaking of support, Chelsea mentions that she was hoping to catch Isa before they disappeared for the break. Obviously, there’s still the final, but it would’ve felt weird to try and pull them aside then when it’s so formal.

Chelsea: I’m producing a film during the break, and I’m still looking for some support staff to help get the production off the ground. It’s going to be a bit of a time crunch, and I won’t be able to pay you in anything but experience, but I feel like it could be an awesome opportunity for you to get some hands-on experience on your resume.

She has some former students she was considering, but many folks are leaving town for the holidays. Not to mention, she feels like after this semester, she trusts Isa’s ability and would love to give them the chance to gain some experience so early on.

Chelsea hardly needs to ask Isa twice. It sounds like an amazing opportunity, and the chance to continue working with a professor they admire and who, it seems, respects them as an individual in equal measure. Isa jumps at the chance, not even asking about schedule or workload. Chelsea is thrilled, promising them they’ll email with all the details.

INT. HOSPITAL - PATIENT ROOM - DAY

On the opposite end of the emotional spectrum, KENNETH FRIAR is situated in a hospital room and hooked up to an IV while the doctors finish running some final tests. When the doctor returns with the nurse, he brings Lucas and GRACE FRIAR with him, inviting them into the room to listen. Grace uncertainly approaches Kenneth’s bedside, dutifully standing vigil. Lucas keeps his distance, inconspicuously backing up to lean against the wall out of the way.

Given the heaviness in the air, the news they receive is hardly a surprise. It confirms what they suspected after his collapse on Thanksgiving. Unfortunately, they’ve done everything they can, but the treatments aren’t working. Kenneth’s cancer has not slowed its progression, even with the experimental Hail Marys.

Doctor: I regret to say there’s nothing more we can do.

So it’s official. Kenneth’s diagnosis is terminal. There’s a pronounced pause as this sinks in, all of the Friars remaining silent and hard to read. Lucas’s jaw twitches, but otherwise, he keeps an impressively flat expression. He’s been training his whole life, after all.

Right now, they’re mainly in shock anyway. Grace, with tenderness that only feels a touch stilted, reaches to take Kenneth’s hand. He glances at it, then manages to speak.

Kenneth: So what do we do now?

In some ways, that’s the easy part. At this point, it’s a matter of keeping him comfortable and content as long as they can. So some of their treatment protocols will continue, mainly to alleviate the increasing discomfort. It won’t reverse anything, but it’ll soften the pain.

Doctor: Otherwise, I think that question’s answer is up to you. Whatever you want to do now, this is the time to do it. Enjoy what time you all have left together.

As if they enjoyed it up to this point. But message received. Grace offers a light smile and thanks the doctor and nurse for their help through this, Kenneth echoing the sentiment.

Lucas nods along, a beat or two behind, but it’s not like anyone notices. He’s an afterthought in the moment, a shadow on the wall of his parents. He wouldn’t know what to say even if eyes were on him; his brain doesn’t seem to be processing the reality of it.

Kenneth is dying. His father is going to die. He should be sad. He should be happy. He should feel something, a profound sense of anything.

Instead, based on the blank look in his eyes, he doesn’t feel much at all.

Eric, pre-lap: Fair warning, this isn’t going to be pretty.

INT. JACK AND ERIC’S PLACE - BEDROOM - DAY

JACK HUNTER and ERIC MATTHEWS are both home for the afternoon, going through the process of packing for their first trip together as official partners. They’ll be joining Riley on the journey to Philly, though traveling separately, to see Alan and Amy for the holidays. Although Jack seems game for the adventure, Eric has definite apprehension as he folds sweaters into the suitcase.

Jack: I think you’re exaggerating. It’s okay, it’s in your nature as a drama king.

Eric: More like it’s in my blood -- and that’s exactly what you’re going to understand once we get there. I’m just trying to give you as much advance notice as possible. You’ve met me, and you’ve met Cory. You think we’re a handful? Just wait until you’ve got the whole clan together.

Jack: Remember who you’re talking to. I had absentee, alcoholic trailer park dad of the year and a mother who wears eccentric like a badge of honor. I think I can handle it.

Touché, but Eric insists the Matthews are their own brand. It’s not that any of them are problematic, and he loves all of them. Really, he does. It’s just… it’s a real crop of personalities.

Jack: You say that as if we didn’t essentially co-parent a whole school of personalities for years on end.

Eric: Okay, but this is different. We can teach the kids, that’s our job. We can’t teach the old dog of my family new tricks. You’ve got my mom, who is the sweetest person alive but makes Jennifer Minkus look tame when it comes to smothering. Add in a dash of Riley’s control freak, meddling nature and my emotional sensitivity for good measure. Then there’s my dad, who acts like he’s gruff and tough and doesn’t give a hoot, but he’s actually equally as sensitive and remarkably worse about communication. Seriously, if my dad could learn how to effectively articulate his emotions, I’d say about fifty percent of the problems we’ve had would have never happened.

Jack: I’d say that sounds reasonable for a man of his age. And relatable.

Eric: Then there’s me, which, you know. Followed by Cory, who you also know and is somehow even more dramatic than me. There will certainly be drama about his divorce, too, because that seems to come up no matter how many years pass. My parents loved Topanga, so they’re about as touchy about it all as Cory.

Jack: Big shoes to fill as the new partner, then, huh?

Eric: Please. Then we also have Shawn there, because he always gets included in things like this, which is honestly going to be bizarre as hell considering you’re his half-brother and yet you were never included in these things before. Like, how did that even… our rotating cast of characters is truly so bewildering. If I had to explain our pseudo-family tree including Lucas, Riley, and Isa to literally anyone, I think they’d report us.

Jack: To who? And on the Shawn thing, again, deadbeat dad strikes fast and hard. It’s amazing the surprises you get from him.

Eric: There’s Morgan, my sister, the only girl in the family so you can imagine how she turned out. Which is to say, actually far more sane than the rest of us, but she revels in the chaos of our family for kicks so don’t expect her to be any help if things fall apart. And then Josh is the baby.

Jack: The one who does producing in L.A.

Eric: Yes, though be careful about bringing that up. It’s a point of contention in our family, though of course my parents would never cop to that.

Jack: Noted. Out of curiosity, what isn’t a point of contention in your family?

Eric: Little. But yeah, expect there to be drama about Josh being there, mainly because this is the first time in years that he’s coming for more than a couple of days, and when everyone else is going to be there. Mom thinks he’s like ashamed of us and avoids us like the plague, rather than realizing not everything is personal and I’m fairly sure Josh is just going through the classic mid-20s identity crisis that makes him want to crawl under a rock.

Anyway, it’s going to be a clusterfuck. Just how bad is the question. Jack gives him a fond smile, coming to join him on his side of the bed and taking his arms. He jostles him lightly, reassuring him that he doesn’t scare easy and he’s looking forward to experiencing the chaos. They should be experts at it at this point, so he’s not worried.

Jack: I’m just grateful to be able to spend the holiday with the person I care about most, and his wonderfully weird family.

Jack gives him a kiss, which Eric accepts with half-hearted disgruntlement.

Eric: Let’s actually get there first, then you can decide if that remains true. And if you don’t want to sleigh ride a thousand miles in the other direction.

Ha ha, likely. As the staccato strums of the next tune float in…

INT. TURNER ACADEMY - THEATER - NIGHT

Song Cue ♫ ♪ “Carol Of The Bells” as arranged by John Tesh || Instrumental

The Turner Academy transfer winter showcase is in full swing, the small theater on campus occupied by the hopeful transfers, their peers, and their loved ones who elected to show. DONNA BABINEAUX, OMAR BABINEAUX, and JADA BABINEAUX are in attendance; Riley is seated with them, smile bright on her face as she watches her friend perform.

Right now, ZAY BABINEAUX and VANESSA JOHNSON are spotlighted on stage, pulling off another pas de deux to the instrumental rendition of “Carol Of The Bells.” Their duet is elegant but sharp, incorporating a bit of the latin flavor and form that the track emulates. They’re definitely leaning into the fiery red of the Christmas palette, Vanessa sporting a shimmery crimson performance dress that flares out with each spin and twirl.

The routine is a strong showcase of their talent, honed to a fine point after the intense semester, but that was never in doubt. What’s noteworthy for those in the know is how far they’ve come in working together over the course of the last few weeks. They’re not in perfect sync by any means, but they’re getting there -- their movements are more natural, fluid, less friction between them as they acclimate to one another. It’s not an effortless match, but there’s potential. There’s a foundation for something formidable.

To most folks, though, there’s no difference, so it’s just a damn good performance. The music concludes and Zay and Vanessa hit their final poses with a flourish, holding it for a long moment to soak up the applause before they break formation to take a bow. The Babineaux are some of the most vocal of the bunch in the audience, but Riley has them beat with how enthusiastically she’s clapping.

Zay and Vanessa maintain their professional, stoic demeanors while the spotlight is still on them, not wanting to betray vulnerability to the competition in the audience… but when they make eye contact out of the corner of their eyes, the hint of a smile creeps onto their lips.

INT. TURNER ACADEMY - THEATER LOBBY - NIGHT

The two of them emerge from backstage later in the evening when the recital is done, entering the throng of people in the lobby meeting up with the students. Riley and the Babineaux clan receive them warmly, the former sharing a tight congratulatory hug with Zay. Another great performance for the history books! Jada also hands Vanessa a small bouquet, courtesy of their family.

Vanessa, surprised: Oh, wow. Um, thanks.

She obviously is unprepared for such a nice gesture, sheepish but touched. Zay scoffs.

Zay: And what? No flowers for your actual flesh and blood?

Donna: I gave birth to you. That’s equivalent to more flowers than will ever grow on God’s green Earth.

Zay rolls his eyes. Omar politely asks if Vanessa’s parents are there, so they don’t hold her up. Vanessa awkwardly clears her throat, doing her best to stay nonchalant.

Vanessa: Actually, they couldn’t make it. Prior engagement. My dad runs his own business, so sometimes there are obligations you just can’t get out of.

Never mind the fact that he couldn’t care less about her artistic passions. While Donna and Omar get into discussing how best to avoid the crowd leaving the venue, Riley takes the reins of the conversation and congratulates both of them again. She thought they were amazing, not that she expected anything less.

Somehow, the topic of her upcoming holiday gathering comes up, which prompts Zay to note he thought it might be cool if Vanessa came. Riley brightens; Vanessa demures.

Riley: Yes! Absolutely.

Vanessa: You don’t have to invite me.

Riley: No, no, you should come! You totally should.

Vanessa: I don’t want to intrude. Quincy kid rolling up at your Adams reunion and all that, I don’t want to be…

Riley: Seriously, don’t even think of it. I promise you, most of my classmates are so self-possessed they won’t even remember they met you last year. And that doesn’t matter anyway. If any group of people understands second chances and misleading first impressions, it would be the A class.

Zay: God, no kidding.

Riley promises her it’ll be a lot of fun, and she’s more than welcome. Any companion of Zay’s is an instant friend of hers. Vanessa still seems hesitant, but she claims she’ll plan on it.

INT. ANYA KELLY STUDIOS - UPPER FLOOR - DAY

Jade is at her desk, pretending to work but not getting much of anything done. She’s distracted and on edge, unable to sit still. Her station right outside Anya’s door no longer feels cool and coveted -- it feels like the monster is lurking just out of view, scrutinizing her every move. Just hearing Anya’s voice on the phone from her office, even at its most pleasant and chipper, feels foreboding.

It’s even more disconcerting given that she has to sit there and act like everything is normal. Like she’s not still replaying Anya’s tirade at her over and over in her mind, torn between convincing herself what she said isn’t true and wanting to pick it apart just to justify why she might have said it. Anya was the one who lost her temper, yet it’s Jade turning herself inside out trying to make sense of it.

To add insult to injury, Anya appears to be an expert at pretending nothing has changed. Perhaps because to her, it hasn’t -- Jade is a nothing to her like she said, just another disposable intern who is in her good graces until she isn’t. Such is the life of a successful, wealthy entrepreneur.

ANYA KELLY demonstrates this nonchalance when she pokes her head out of the door to her office.

Anya: J. Bee, I’m dying for caffeine. Going to order out for a macchiato. You want anything?

Jade manages a smile, shaking her head. It’s hard to reconcile it all in her head… especially with the prospect of an alternative looming in the back of her mind. She glances towards her phone, contemplating opening Instagram to reread the message from Pinhead Threads. But doing so while literally sitting at her desk at her current job feels like begging for trouble.

MELANIE MURPHY returns from the kitchen below, cradling a freshly brewed cup of tea, but she basically has to drop it when Anya gestures for her to follow her into the office so she can give her the details of the coffee pick-up.

And Melanie goes without hesitation, depositing her full tea cup onto her desk before scurrying after Anya. Watching her go, knowing what working for Anya full time must be like -- particularly behind closed doors -- Jade suddenly has more empathy for Melanie than she did before.

Yes, she plays mind games and isn’t the nicest person to be around. But where do we think she picked up those tools of the trade?

INT. NYU APARTMENT - DAY

Isa emerges from their room with a yawn, still in their pajamas. Now that finals season is upon them, they’re grateful for the opportunity to lounge more in the mornings rather than scramble to get ready for lectures.

At least, they would be if they were alone. They jump out of their skin when they realize an unfamiliar figure is in the apartment, standing by the counter in the kitchen.

Isa: Holy fuckshit --

The surprise was bad enough, causing their heart to pound in their chest. Then the terror triples when their brain catches up to their eyes and recognizes who it is.

Farkle gives them an amused smile, not matching their shock and glad to see them again.

Farkle: Hi to you too. Still not a morning person, I see.

Isa was not prepared for this. Oh, they were not ready to see him again. They can’t tell if he’s gotten taller, or if that’s just a figment of their imagination because it’s been so long since his lanky form was in front of them. An actual, tangible human being rather than a distant fact of existence they could ignore when it all became too much. He’s let his hair grow out a bit, more of a haphazard fluff than its former coiffed glory. His freckles, few as they are, are even more prominent after a few months in the Los Angeles sunshine. And he looks stupid good in his knit sweater.

God, what are they thinking? Farkle looks good? They’re diseased. Their brain is in decay. They miss the good old days, when seeing Farkle evoked bemused platonic fondness at best and outright derision at worst. Derision, they think, would be easier than whatever this is that’s flip-flopping around in their stomach at the sight of him.

To be fair, the shock of his unannounced visit isn’t helping matters. Isa’s brain scrambles for a long moment -- too long, given the good-natured ease of his original greeting -- before landing on an unceremonious response.

Isa: What are you doing here?

Hm. Not the warm reunion Farkle was maybe hoping for. Not that he was expecting tears and roses or anything, but… he does his best to take it in stride.

He doesn’t have to answer their question, though, because Riley emerging from her room dressed to go answers for him. She eagerly asks if he’s ready to roll, before realizing Isa is up and greeting them cheerfully. She explains that she and Farkle are going to grab coffee and catch up.

Riley: Do you want to come along? [ turning to Farkle ] That would be okay, right? Sorry, didn’t mean to assume.

Farkle: Oh, please. Of course. In fact, that would probably be the most effective way for me to hear about Isa. Since you’re so good at playing hard to get.

The comment is said with humor, but there’s a slight edge to it that hints at the unfortunate truth to it. In any case, Isa declines the invitation, mostly because it’s going to take a couple of hours at least for the shock of this to wear off. Farkle seems a bit disappointed by the rejection, but Riley brushes it off without a second thought.

She leads the way towards the door, Farkle pausing in the doorway to toss one more sentiment Isa’s way.

Farkle: See you later?

It’s hopeful, albeit uncertain. Isa isn’t sure they have an answer, but they robotically offer a nod just the same. Sealing their own fate, perhaps.

EXT. SHOPPING CENTER - DAY

Maya is enjoying one of those aforementioned reunion hangouts, going Christmas shopping with Darby. It’s kind of cute to see them actually spend time together like friends, considering they rarely hung out one-on-one during high school. But Darby is as bubbly and supportive as ever, enthusiastically listening to Maya regale her with tales of Hollywood and the production of a hit single. She might be puffing things up a bit to save face and seem further along than she is, but what’s a little stretching of the truth between pals?

Darby eats it all up anyway, the perfect audience for such a conversation. Even so, Maya claims it’s nice to be back for a relaxing, quaint visit for the holidays.

Darby: I’m not sure you can get away with calling Manhattan quaint, but I so agree.

Darby is especially looking forward to Riley’s planned gathering. Maya concurs, though she has to get through pulling together a gift for the Secret Snowflake portion of it all. This is news to Darby, as she isn’t part of the inner circle, but she’s high-spirited about it. She claims she loves stuff like this and excitedly asks who Maya got for the draw.

As Maya thinks on it for a moment, we flash back --

INT. L.A. APARTMENT - MAYA’S BEDROOM - FLASHBACK - DAY

To when Maya received her gift assignment, opening the message to reveal Nigel.

Well, that’s uneventful. About as riveting as the man himself. Maya looks unimpressed, but alas. Could be worse. She shrugs and goes back to painting her nails, recording a quick voice note to herself to remember to Google some stuff about Shakespeare.

EXT. SHOPPING CENTER - DAY

Suffice to say, she’s neutral about the whole thing. Nigel is one of the easier ones to shop for, so she’s not too concerned, and she actually has a bit of spare change to spend this year thanks to revenue from “On My Grind.” She’s honestly more interested in who got her and what they could possibly think to get her, as she can only imagine Farkle having a good enough grasp on her tastes.

But all the folly is hardly her main focus. As she explains to Darby with the utmost diva seriousness, her main task while she’s home is to mine her background for songwriting material. She’s going to start working on her breakout EP when she gets back to Los Angeles, and she wants to return locked and loaded.

Maya: Christmas is the least of my concerns. It can hardly compete with imminent musical world domination.

INT. DEPARTMENT STORE - DAY

If only NIGEL CHEY could share that sense of calm. He’s particularly anxious as he shops with YINDRA AMINO, both of them scanning for their Secret Snowflake gifts. She’s told him who she got -- Jade -- as the only reason he’s there is to help her in the shopping endeavor.

Apparently, he hasn’t been much help yet though. He’s too consumed with fretting about his own gift-giving. Nothing feels right. He doesn’t think he could pick a good enough gift. Yindra shoots him a look, especially skeptical considering he is refusing to reveal who he got. 

Yindra: Boy, this is an Adams alumni gift exchange, not war games. The stakes are subbasement. You do not need to be this stressed.

Nigel: I know. No, yeah, I know.

Yindra: I mean, seriously, if I didn’t know any better -- which I don’t, because you refuse to tell me like the annoying rule-follower you are -- I’d suspect you got like, Maya or Friar or someone equally impossible to please. And in that case, you should just chill, because you’re right, they’re going to be unimpressed no matter what.

Nigel: I don’t have either of them. Thank God.

Yindra: So? Who could you possibly be so zany over?

Nigel pauses, throwing back --

INT. CHEY APARTMENT - NIGEL’S BEDROOM - DAY

To when he first received his giftee, with the frosted flashback effect at play like usual.

“You’re giving a gift to: Riley.”

Nigel’s expression is grim, filling with dread. He should be glad to get Riley -- she’s super easy to shop for, mainly because she’ll love anything anyone gives her. She’s the kind of person who considers friendship the best gift of all, so this should be a cake walk.

INT. DEPARTMENT STORE - DAY

But not only are those people notoriously hard to shop for in reality, it’s more of a Nigel problem than a Riley one. Nigel is nervous because getting Riley feels like a sick trick of fate given how lackluster of a friend he’s been to her this year. He may have turned that less than attractive leaf over, but the guilt of his actions (or rather inaction) lingers, and now having to find the perfect way to show her how much he appreciates her feels like cosmic punishment.

He doesn’t want to have Riley, because he knows he doesn’t deserve her.

But he can’t say any of that, for multiple reasons, so he elects to keep his thoughts to himself. He merely shrugs instead, redirecting the conversation back to Yindra and her search for Jade-centric gifts.

INT. NEW YORK STREETS - DAY

Riley and Farkle are enjoying coffee as promised, the latter making a point of remarking it’s infinitely better here than it is out on the west coast. California has its charms, undoubtedly, but there’s some things you just can’t beat the Big Apple for. One of which is the views -- Farkle seems more than appreciative to be back in the towering grey concrete of his hometown, still a natural fit.

He notes he’s grateful that Riley was able to squeeze him into her busy schedule, what with planning holiday gatherings and going to Pennsylvania. Not to mention holiday shopping, which she’s still trying to finish up. This brings them to the topic of the gift exchange as well, to which both of them coyly keep their cards hidden and don’t reveal who they got.

Riley: You’re at least looking forward to it, right? I feel like I’ve had more than one person come to me to complain about who they got and it’s like, look, if you weren’t prepared for spreading the holiday cheer without discrimination, then you shouldn’t have played the game.

Farkle: [ with a laugh ] No, nothing like that.

Riley: So you got someone good? I mean, everyone is good, but --

Farkle hesitates, thinking on it --

INT. L.A. APARTMENT - FARKLE’S BEDROOM - DAY

The notification comes in on his phone. Farkle sits up from leaning back over the end of his bed, as he does sometimes, quickly opening the email to see who he got.

“You’re giving a gift to: Zay.”

Oh, goody! Farkle smiles, a wry humor twinkling in his eyes.

EXT. NEW YORK STREETS - DAY

So yes, Farkle did get someone good. Zay may not like it, but to him, it’s a fun challenge.

Farkle: I did, and yes, I’m excited about it. I think it’s going to be fun. [ a beat ] Although I don’t know if my person would be very happy to receive something from me if they knew everything I got up to this semester --

Riley: What?

Oop. The thought just slipped out -- Farkle was supposed to be getting better about that! But he can’t elaborate, partially because he and Riley both don’t know that the other knows about Zay and Charlie, and because he’d rather disintegrate than reveal the details of his and Charlie’s little practice session. Maya picking on him relentlessly is enough.

Farkle: Never mind. Anyway. How’s NYU?

INT. FILM SET - DAY

NYU, as it were, is offering many different experiences. But opportunities abound, as evidenced by Isa showing up to their first day on the short film set Chelsea is directing. It’s already chaos, as film sets naturally are, but Isa seems excited by the prospects. This is what they believe they want to do one day after all. Better start thickening their skin now.

If Bennet still believes they don’t want this, he’s got another thing coming.

Isa weaves their way through the crowd and manages to find Chelsea, but they’re surprised they don’t recognize anyone else along the way. It seems like they’re the only freshman in attendance -- maybe their peers are the ones who don’t care nearly enough to take advantage of an experience like this.

Chelsea greets them cheerfully, thanking them for coming and promising to get them set up with all the AD equipment they’ll need. She also makes quick work of introducing them to a couple of other student mentees, a senior and junior who seem friendly and hardworking.

Chelsea: Come on, I’ll give you the tour and introduce you around. Then it’s time to get cracking!

Isa nods eagerly, taking the clipboard from her and letting her lead the charge.

INT. GARDNER HOME - CHARLIE’S BEDROOM - DAY

It’s nice to see Charlie back in his room, which has stayed true to form as if he never left. But he did, and the evidence of that is just dwindling away as he unpacks the last of his things. He’s mainly just emptying his travel backpack at this point.

He carefully retrieves the leather journal from its safe inner pocket, smiling to himself. He settles on his bed and flips through the pages -- he did manage to basically fill the entire thing. Just like Zay figured he would…

There’s so much to tell him. So much to catch up on. But he also just can’t wait to see him, to get a full dose of Zay Babineaux and remember that he’s real. That he didn’t make him up. He honestly can’t believe he hasn’t seen him already.

But promises are promises, and he dutifully kept his to Riley. So now that that’s taken care of… Charlie reaches for his phone and opens his thread with Zay. Only he finds it’s hard to know what to say. It should be the simplest message in the world -- Hi! I’m back and want to see you again. I missed you. -- and yet he can’t find the right words. He types and deletes two to three variations, then shakes his head in frustration. God forbid anything should be easy.

He almost decides to just call him, thumb hovering over the dial button, but he’s waylaid by a sister hurricane. He hears the noisy return home of one of his siblings downstairs paired with an exasperated wail, and then moments later ROSIE GARDNER appears in his doorway, still dressed in her gifted school uniform. She releases a monumental sigh.

Rosie: Thank God you’re here. My life is over!

Charlie puts his phone and journal to the side and starts to ask what’s wrong, but Rosie doesn’t even wait for the invitation. She launches into a frenetic pace and breathless rant, anxiously explaining the pickle she seems to have gotten herself into. She’s like a bullet, in classic Gardner fashion, speaking so fast Charlie literally can’t keep up.

Charlie: Okay, okay! Rosie, take a deep breath, and then let’s try again. Because right now, you’re talking at a pitch that only Skippy can hear.

Hmph. Rosie huffs, but then obliges, taking a drawn-out deep breath. Charlie nods along, then gestures for her to come sit, which she does.

Charlie: Okay. So hi. What’s going on?

Rosie: I am an absolute idiot, that’s what is going on.

Charlie: Don’t talk about yourself like that. I’m sure that’s not true.

Rosie: It is. Oh, it is. I’m so in over my head. Earlier this year, I thought it would be a good idea to run for student government in my grade. Why did I think this was a good idea? Well, because Uri was running for secretary, so naturally, my silly, useless brain thought it would be brilliant to run for something too. So I threw together a campaign for treasurer. Then the unthinkable happened.

Charlie: You didn’t win?

Rosie: No, I did. For some strange reason my classmates decided they wanted me to handle the money, so now I’m on student government.

Charlie: Well, that’s great. It must mean your classmates like you.

Rosie: I haven’t gotten to the disaster yet. So okay, I’m now working on this team with Uri, which is great, but also Ashlyn, who is vice president. And as you know, she’s out to get me, because she’s like annoying and also insane. The problem is she gets to delegate our responsibilities, since I guess John Michael is too busy as president doing whatever things he’s doing that I can’t seem to actually figure out the specifics of. So, Ashlyn says, since I’m treasurer, I can be in charge of handling fundraising this year. Which I did not want to do -- I literally just wanted to hangout with Uri after school, but whatever -- but I’m like, okay, sure. I’ll arrange for us to do like a bake sale or something. Only now, bake sales are apparently outlawed, because everyone is too concerned about their kids getting germs from some non-store bought cupcake. Like call the police, there’s a homemade cookie in this lobby! So that shot my whole plan.

Charlie: Right.

Rosie: But then, I had an epiphany. I thought, hey, I’m part of the choir at church, and they do their whole caroling thing every year. Maybe I can partner them together -- you know our church would love the chance to get some face time in with a school like this -- and then bam, two birds with one stone. Mom even helped me connect with the right folks so my request was expedited.

Charlie: That sounds like a great idea.

Rosie: Until it wasn’t! Because apparently, our choir director liked the idea so much, she thought I should be the one to spearhead the whole operation this year. Which I think she mainly did just so she didn’t have to do all the work. And mom loved this idea, because look how good her family is doing in the goings-ons of the church, and of course apparently I’m capable of handling all of this because what can a Gardner child not do? But spoiler alert, I don’t know what I’m doing, and now all the good caroling venues for the day we do our event and like the whole week around it have already been booked or bought out.

Charlie: Oh.

Rosie: So now this caroling fundraiser is guaranteed to be a flop. We’re not going to make any money, making me the ultimate failure of the student government. Not to mention I’m going to tarnish the Gardner reputation in the church for like ever and ever, and mom is never going to forgive me, and I’m going to have to get cast out to the same corner of the city as Bridgette for my utter lack of Gardner respectability.

Charlie: I really don’t think this and premarital sex are on the same level, but…

Rosie: I’m going to socially combust both spheres of my world in one night!

Charlie gets her to calm down again, assuring her it’s not the end of the world. Like, he gets it, Gardner mania is in his genes too, but this is a manageable stressor with manageable solutions.

Rosie, insistently: Which are?

Great question, Rosie. Charlie doesn’t have those -- yet -- but he assures her he’ll think on it. She can just focus on figuring out the venue, and let him carry some of the worry for a bit. They’ll figure something out. Scout’s honor.

For now, it’ll have to do. Rosie sighs and gets to her feet, still mumbling about bookings and caroling and the evils of Ashlyn McDonnell. Charlie should’ve known that it wouldn’t take long for him to be thrust back into the hubbub of his old life. In fact, despite the stress, it feels warm and familiar.

So now he’s got to figure this out. Duty calls. Zay will have to wait just a little bit longer…

EXT. NEW YORK STREETS - DAY

Fortunately, Zay is busy too and doesn’t notice the prolonged quiet. Right now, he doesn’t look especially pleased by that though, mostly because his current company is getting on his nerves. He’s out on the town catching up with Maya and Farkle, the two of them immediately back to their old levels of diva banter and getting a deep, visceral thrill out of annoying the hell out of Zay.

The unfortunate part is that even as he rolls his eyes, Zay is actually happy to see them. He’d never cop to it, of course, but he can’t believe how much their teasing and theatrics inspires fondness rather than exasperation. Suppose it really is true that absence makes the heart grow fonder…

Farkle: But it’s good to be back. Mainly because if we weren’t here, who else would keep Zay Babineaux humble?

Maya: So true. He has to remember his roots.

Farkle: I know all those Turner folks don’t even know who they’re dealing with. Who will tell them about the time you threw a diva fit because Shawn wouldn’t let you sing Ariana Grande for winter showcase?

Okay, maybe not that fond. Zay groans, wondering aloud why he agreed to this hangout while Farkle and Maya both give him their best impish grins.

INT. LUCAS’S APARTMENT - DAY

Lucas enters the apartment after a morning shift at Chubbies, but immediately slows his roll when he gets deeper in the entryway. Only this time, his apprehension isn’t caused by an imminent threat. It’s caused by bewilderment.

Lucas, blankly: What the hell…

The apartment is decorated. Like, honest to God homed for the holidays. A string of garland with lights is hung around the pathetic window. The surfaces have been cleared off and wiped clean; a festive pillow he’s never seen before is on the couch. Christmas knick-knacks he hasn’t seen since he was a toddler are arranged on the TV mantle and coffee table. It feels decidedly blasphemous to have the ceramic baby Jesus in the miniature manger scene that’s been sitting in a box for fifteen years suddenly staring at him in this apartment where there has never been any sign of God.

Grace startles him when she emerges from the bedroom, less because of her presence and more because he’s so thoroughly unsettled by the decor. She’s got her winter coat on.

Grace: I didn’t realize you’d be home so soon.

Lucas: I’m not. Exactly. I only -- [ distracted ] What is all this?

Kenneth, off-screen: Found it! I told you there was one more box --

Kenneth emerges from the bedroom as well, carrying the last of the holiday storage boxes. He gives Grace a grin and triumphantly drops it onto the couch.

Kenneth: Bet you anything that’s where the old Rudolph stand is. Though I doubt we’ll have much luck finding his eye.

Lucas stares at him, almost like he doesn’t recognize him. His dad doesn’t usually reserve such a chipper tone for them, let alone a festive grin. Not to mention it feels sort of psychotic, considering he just learned he’s going to die. Suppose bleak news can make people do crazy things, but he doesn’t think this is what conventional wisdom meant by that.

Kenneth just seems to notice Lucas is there, uncertainly returning his stare for a long moment before managing a thin smile. It feels markedly more forced towards him, but it’s not nothing. He points out the decor and asks what Lucas thinks, but doesn’t wait for his response as he points towards the manger scene.

Kenneth: You remember this set? Don’t think we’ve had it out since you were, what, six?

Lucas: … I remember it.

Kenneth: Pretty sure we stopped getting it out because Grace was terrified you were going to choke yourself to death on the little pieces. You’ve always had a thing for mischief.

He says it jokingly, like it’s supposed to be a fun little inside laugh they share as a family, but it falls flat considering they don’t share laughs -- and choking, death, and blame for mischief have never been light topics in their apartment.

Anyway. While Kenneth gets his coat, Grace informs Lucas that they’re just heading out to get a tree. He should come along. Considering Lucas is such an appreciator of nature, he’s likely just the expertise they need to pick one after so long without having one for the holidays. Kenneth does his best effort to good-naturedly agree, stating it could be a nice family activity.

Lucas seriously wonders if he’s gotten into a serious car accident and suffered brain damage. Or if he’s in one of those eerie Christmas dream sequences, where everything isn’t how it’s supposed to be. The way his parents are acting is objectively nice, pleasant, and good, but it just makes him feel woozy. He can’t fathom the idea of going Christmas tree shopping with them like they’re a normal, happy family and everything is dandy -- the universe might fold in on itself and collapse.

Thankfully, he has an excuse, though with his whiplash it comes out a bit stilted.

Lucas: I… I’ve already got. Plans. So. [ a beat ] Sorry.

He doesn’t let them question it, turning on his heel and heading back out of the apartment. He doesn’t even remember why he stopped by in the first place, but at this rate, he doesn’t care. Nothing is worth risking another second of falling down the rabbit hole.

Grace doesn’t seem surprised by Lucas’s aversion, letting him go. Kenneth doesn’t stop him either, but he is noticeably less pleased by the dismissal. His expression sours somewhat as he finishes pulling on his coat, watching where Lucas left.

INT. EMERALD CITY LOUNGE - DAY

Maya, Farkle, and Zay have settled at the Emerald City Lounge, a place they’re easily able to access with Farkle’s family membership. But they’re also becoming known entities of sorts on their own merit -- Zay still carries cred from his stint in West Side Story, and Maya is certainly a pop-culture name as of late with her breakout single. The hostess who brings by the checks for their drinks remarks as such, expressing that she absolutely loved “On My Grind (O.M.G.).”

Maya preens under the attention, acting humble and gracious about it but obviously loving the praise. Zay looks like he could gag, rolling his eyes down towards the table at her sweetheart act. Farkle does his best not to burst out laughing.

Once the check has been laid down, Maya conveniently excuses herself to the restroom, unceremoniously climbing over Zay as she scoots out of the center of the rounded booth.

Zay: Excuse you.

Maya: Um, I already did two seconds ago? You need to listen better, Zayby love.

She pats his cheek affectionately, which he swats away. Maya confirms that Farkle is going to handle the bill -- big surprise -- then flounces off, leaving Zay and Farkle alone. Zay glances at the bill.

Zay: So when you say you’ve got it, is that just covering little miss Viral Disease over here, or…

Farkle: No, I’ve got it. Don’t worry about it. I’m sure spending my money won’t break a sweat of guilt on your conscience.

Zay: Glad you still know me so well.

While Farkle lays down his card, Zay asks for the real talk since Maya is away. He’s been dying to know, cool as he plays it off. Is this all the real deal -- is she actually getting somewhere out there in L.A.?

Farkle: It seems like it, yeah. Not that I’m shocked, I mean, it’s Maya. The moment she showed up in my apartment, I figured it had to end this way. You know Maya, once she gets an idea in her head…

Zay: Annoying as fuck. But yes.

Farkle: But no, it all seems legit. “On My Grind” was some parts luck, but she delivered at the masquerade and got her producers all on her own. She’s not bullshitting about the single she keeps talking about either, it really is going to come out. Like, she’s getting an actual big label release, which isn’t something to sneeze at.

Sure isn’t. Zay nods, mildly impressed and only a wee bit envious. Irritating as she is, he knows Maya works her ass off. It’s only fitting she’d find a way to elbow her way to the front of line to stardom.

Farkle admits he doesn’t know as much as he probably should, given he’s so busy with stuff going on in his own life. Classes, rehearsals, and the like… not to mention all his recent social life developments. When Zay quirks an eyebrow, Farkle is more than a little keen to confide that he’s got a boyfriend.

Zay almost chokes on his drink.

Zay: What the fuck?

Farkle: Gee, thanks. Act more surprised, please, Zay. You could do better than that.

Zay: Sorry. Sorry, I didn’t mean to sound -- [ coughing ] no, actually, I kind of did. What the fuck? I mean, good for you, man. But that was not something I had on my 2021 bingo card, I have to be real with you.

Honestly, this is about as nice a reaction as Farkle was likely to get from Zay. And he seems happy with it -- acknowledgement from someone he looks up to is good enough, and Zay’s blunt approach is refreshing. Something he kind of misses a lot, amidst the mind games and power plays of Hollywood.

Zay asks for more details, like how the hell this even happened, and Farkle is glad to share them. He explains the basics about Jordan, like his major in directing and interest in film. Then he starts to get into how they met…

Zay: Wait, so he’s a sophomore? Or is like, what, my age?

Farkle: Just turned twenty this month. But yes, sophomore. In the film school.

Zay: And he’s hanging out with a bunch of freshmen?

Farkle: He’s not hanging out with freshmen. We met because the sophomore directors and freshmen acting majors do a collaboration every year in this one class, and he became my mentor. He hand-picked me, actually, which was terrifying at first but has turned out much better than I expected. I mean, obviously, ha ha.

Right, right… for sure. Ha ha. Zay buys that explanation, but still, something about his initial reaction sticks with him. Like he can’t find any obvious reasons why he bristled like that, but he can’t shake the feeling of it.

Right now, it’s pushed from their minds as Maya returns to the table. She slides back into the booth cozy next to Zay, rubbing in the affection in a pointedly annoying way, which Zay tolerates with another side-eye. Farkle notes that they were discussing Jordan, which doesn’t seem to excite Maya, but he improves his odds by veering into how Jordan helped direct Maya’s music video.

No better topic to grease the wheels with Maya Hart -- herself.

Maya: He sure did. I mean, the creative vision was all me, but had to get it off the ground with just the shirt on my back somehow. Had to get my foot in the door with a roundhouse kick -- and did I mention I have another single coming out sometime this week?

Zay: What? No way. I had no idea. It’s not like you haven’t mentioned it… seven times already in the last two hours.

To be honest, that’s not bad for Maya.

INT. BEAMON HOME - JADE’S BEDROOM - DAY

Jade is in a pile of blankets on the floor, anxiously looking at her phone. She’s rereading the message from Pinhead Threads, still unanswered. The longer she ignores it, letting the opportunity wilt, the more it consumes her thoughts.

But she has to keep being normal about it, which she tries her best to do when Asher returns to her room. He’s dressed in cute pajamas (featuring a definitely Dylan-owned hoodie) and carrying a couple of caramel-hued muffins in his hands. He drops down onto the pile of blankets next to Jade.

Asher: I don’t know how I’ve survived this long without these. [ taking a bite ] Seriously, your dad makes the best pumpkin muffins. Maybe the best muffins ever actually. [ a beat ] Don’t tell Dylan I said that.

Jade manages a laugh, trying for nonchalant, but Asher zeroes in on her unusual hesitation almost immediately. He gives her an apprehensive look, asking what’s wrong.

Jade: What? Nothing.

Asher: Uh-huh. Something’s wrong. You’ve got that shine in your eyes.

Jade: Um --

Asher: And the fact that you’re hedging rather than just telling me whatever it is confirms that it’s serious. Because if it was just an annoyance, rather than a serious problem, you’d just come right out with it.

Jade: My God, you’re like an anxiety bloodhound. What’s wrong with you?

Asher: You already know the answer to that question. And am I wrong?

Asher stares her down, undeniable with his big, wide Bird Bones eyes. Is he wrong… Jade sighs, relenting. But the satisfaction of being right is basically non-existent.

Jade: Okay, okay. Fine. There’s… I haven’t told anyone about this, okay. I don’t know how to talk about it. Or if I even should.

Asher: Okay…

Jade: It’s not that it’s like a bad thing, necessarily. It’s just unexpected, and like… [ nervously ] whatever I do about it, it’s going to change absolutely everything in my life and affect a bunch of other people and I have no idea what to do about it. Like this would be a major, major life change.

The vagueness does not help assuage the anxiety bloodhound. Asher grows faint with dread.

Asher: Oh, no. Don’t tell me.

Jade: … you just asked --

Asher: You’re pregnant. Oh God, you’re pregnant, aren’t you?

Jade makes a face, definitely not expecting that. Least of all earnestly. She shakes her head, smacking him on the arm.

Jade: What? No!

Asher: Don’t lie to me. You’re not lying to me, are you? Promise me you’re not.

Jade: I’m not pregnant! Why the hell would that be it?

Asher: I don’t know! Why wouldn’t it be? This is something you heterosexuals have to deal with, okay, and not enough people are worrying about it seriously so I guess my brain has decided I have to. I have this deep, deep fear of the day one of my straight friends confides in me that secret which no one ever wants to have to hear when it’s unplanned and I was decidedly not ready to hear it now.

Jade: Well, relax! Because you aren’t!

Asher: [ on an anxious roll ] I’ve had this recurring nightmare for the last couple years where one of my best friends tells me they’re pregnant, and at this rate, that’s really only you or Riley considering Isa is single and not sexually active. And maybe it’s sick to say so, but in all honesty, I’d be relieved if it were you rather than Riley, because I think you and Nigel would have way better luck handling it given your stable familial support systems and that Lucas is. Well. Lucas. But usually in the dream I get roped into it and then things inevitably go south and I end up having to drop out of school to raise this baby I never planned to have nor was a contributor in creating and for some bizarre reason whenever I have this dream Dylan is never there to help which seems like a purposefully cruel detail my brain likes to add to the terror considering if all this did happen in real life, you know Dylan would take that baby under his wing like a freakish, adorable neon-colored mama hen. But no, in my dream I always have to take care of the whole thing myself and it wasn’t my fault so I don’t see why I have to shoulder all the responsibility! I’m not ready for that responsibility, Jade.

Jade: Okay, with love, you desperately need to be on medication.

Maybe so. Once Asher has come down from that temporary unnecessary panic, Jade redirects to the actual secret at hand. She cautiously begins to explain the message she got from this other company, and that they’re interested in recruiting her for their team. And she shouldn’t have looked into it, since she’s already engaged, but she did and they seem so cool. Not to mention after what happened with Anya during Thanksgiving, and all the other little red flags she’s been glossing over, it seems more appealing to consider jumping ship than ever…

Asher: That sounds amazing.

Jade: Maybe. But --

Asher: And you know I told you back in November that it’s not cool for Anya to have treated you that way. Or that stuff she said about your coworkers. It’s great that she gave you all these opportunities, but that’s not an excuse for the shady behavior. I’m sure if Nate were here, he’d also point out they can’t value you that much if they’re not paying you for all your services. Unpaid overtime definitely falls in that category. No matter what industry.

Jade: I know. I know.

Asher: So maybe this is the out you need. What’s the harm in at least taking an interview, to see what it’s like? What they’re like? Maybe they won’t hire you, and then it’s whatever, but you could at least investigate. Can I see the Instagram page?

Jade: Okay, but it’s not that simple. It’s not as easy as just boom, switch and done.

Asher: Why not? What’s the problem?

Jade: The job is in Los Angeles.

Oh. Yeah, that’s a pretty important detail. Asher processes that, Jade nodding like exactly. To her point, it would be a big change…

Asher: It’s not like it can’t be done. Look at Farkle, and Yindra. Or, God forbid I invoke the devil, Maya.

Jade: I know.

Asher: And you know your family would support you. If it’s going to be a better fit overall, give you more opportunities, and not be a total mental health drain like AK has been --

Jade: I know. Maybe. But --

Asher: But what? What’s holding you back?

Jade pauses, not sure she wants to say it when Asher laying it all out makes it seem so silly. But she powers through anyway, albeit timidly.

Jade: I haven’t told Nigel.

Asher blinks. Is she serious? Jade carries on defensively.

Jade: Don’t look at me like that. You of all people don’t get to look at me like that.

Asher: What’s that supposed to mean?

Jade: You, who had a mental breakdown last year and nearly ruined your relationship because you were terrified of choosing between your career and Dylan Orlando. You don’t get to look at me like I’m crazy for thinking about my boyfriend in the face of a big decision like this.

Asher: … touché.

Jade: But Dylan would’ve let you go wherever you needed to go. You would’ve, too. I think you knew that. And the thing is, I think Nigel would want that for me, too. I don’t think he’d tell me not to do it.

Asher: So then why not tell him?

Jade: It’s just… things have been so weird. This year. Everything already feels so fragile, and I already almost fucked us up over a job once. We finally have things back in working order after a hell semester, and I don’t want to just blow it all up again over something that might not even work out or be a terrible mistake. I don’t want to leap and end up losing everything.

Fair point. A reasonable anxiety for anyone to have, and Asher can empathize, given he’s the king of anxiety. He’s not going to argue with her that her perspective and hesitation doesn’t make sense, because it does. He can see where she’s coming from, and in her position, he might do the same.

And yet…

Asher: But you won’t know if it’s nothing if you never try at all. To take a page out of the book of Dylan Orlando, sure, maybe it won’t work out… but what if it does? What if it’s exactly what you’re supposed to do next?

If she keeps quiet, does no interview, does nothing, then she’s guaranteed at least one return -- she’ll never know. She has to decide if she can live with that question or not. Right now, based on her expression, she doesn’t seem convinced.

EXT. CHRISTMAS TREE FARM - DAY

The Friars aren’t the only ones Christmas tree shopping that afternoon. Even though it’s late in the season, there are still plenty of firs to peruse, and New Yorkers appear to be upholding the tradition.

One of them is Isa, who is leading the charge with Riley trailing behind as they search for the perfect tree for their apartment. It’s something they’re both clearly excited about, a true touch of owning the space in a way. And it’s an apt callback to holidays past, Isa’s hyper-specific rant about what qualities they’ll want in the tree a dead ringer for the same sort of spiel they went on three years ago when they first went on this shopping trip with Riley. This time, they’re even more determined, considering this is one of the only apartment decorating events they can participate in around their schedule of helping with the film shoot.

Riley: Any tree will be fine, Isa. What matters is that we pick it together.

Isa: That’s nice and everything, but you’re wrong. There is a perfect tree to be picked here, and mark my words, I’m finding it.

Riley smiles, amused. She doesn’t hold Isa back as they march off on their mission. Instead, she slows her roll, scanning the rows of trees to search for their other party member who characteristically seems to have lagged much further behind. Just like before, Lucas is bringing up the rear, hands stuffed in his pockets and keeping to himself.

It really is impressive how even when it feels like everything is changing, so much can stay the same.

Some changes, though, are inarguably for the better. This time, three years later, there’s no hesitation when Riley addresses Lucas, helping close the distance between them by heading in his direction as he’s meandering towards her. She gives him a fond smile.

Riley: Getting a good look at our potential winners, tree expert?

Lucas rolls his eyes, but a small smile graces his lips. Riley beams brighter, falling into step beside him. She waits a moment before nudging on why he’s trailing so far behind -- he seems a bit quieter than usual.

Riley: If you didn’t want to come this afternoon, that would’ve been okay. I mean, I’m glad you’re here, and I think Isa is all about the parallelism of the thing, but --

Lucas: No. No, I’m good. I’m glad you guys invited me and stuff. It’s not that.

Riley tilts her head, inviting elaboration. After a moment, Lucas obliges, albeit uneasily.

Lucas: My parents invited me to do the same thing. Go tree shopping.

Riley raises her eyebrows. Unexpected, definitely, but maybe not a bad thing? She asks how he felt about that, and why he thinks he said no. Lucas isn’t sure -- he’s rarely sure of why he does anything -- but it just felt… weird. Almost like, wrong.

Lucas: I don’t know. It’s like, I guess I should be… glad, or something. That they’re trying to do all this now. Or at least I should be complacent, like okay, he’s dying, it’s the least I could do. To go along with it all. But I just feel…

Nothing. Or if not nothing, aversion, which decidedly isn’t complicit. Grace seems to be doing it all so well, adjusting to the ups and downs and finding the balance of how to handle the changes. He doesn’t get why he can’t do the same. It feels like another thing he can’t do right in the realm of his father -- even when he’s dying, he can’t react right.

Riley frowns, sympathetic. She moves closer and links her arm through his, hugging him affectionately.

Riley: It’s okay to be confused about it all. To have mixed feelings. Having a sick family member is heavy regardless, but the way things are with your dad historically is bound to make all of it even more complicated.

Lucas: Yeah. Yeah, I guess.

Still, it leaves him with a cold feeling that has nothing to do with the weather. Riley empathizes about tricky family situations too, especially this time of year. She’s got her own mixed feelings about her upcoming family obligations. It’ll be nice to see her extended folks, since she hasn’t seen them in a bit, but with the drama that’s almost guaranteed to bubble up…

Riley: So you can let that make you feel a bit better. If you’re a fucked up, ungrateful leaf on the family tree, then you’re not alone.

Lucas: Wow. Cheerful. I see why you have such an optimistic reputation.

Riley gives him a look, scrunching her nose playfully. Then she reaches up and gently brushes at his eyelashes, and this time, he doesn’t back away. He closes his eyes on instinct but lets her touch him.

Riley, matter-of-factly: You’ve got snow.

Indeed. Once she’s done lovingly dusting him off, Riley goes on to comment that she wishes they could just skip ahead to the Secret Snowflake party. God knows she’s going to have much more fun with all their friends than she will at her family gathering.

INT. CHUBBIES - DAY

Charlie makes his way into the diner, eagerly scanning the booths for any familiar faces he hasn’t gotten to see yet. No such luck this time around, but he doesn’t give up yet, approaching the counter and asking the employee working a more specific query.

Charlie: Is Lucas Friar around?

Nope. Just missed him -- he was working the morning shift. Charlie takes that disappointment in stride, thanking the worker anyway. Lucas is elusive as it is; reuniting with him wasn’t going to be a cake walk.

Charlie: If you see him, can you let him know Charlie stopped by? Thanks so much.

Although he’s at a loss for friendly faces to recognize, someone else has recognized him. As the camera pans a bit to the right, it’s revealed that one of our usual crew is in fact at the diner -- just not one that Charlie would know.

Vanessa is seated at one of the counter seats, and it seems Charlie’s conversation with the employee caught her attention. Now she’s staring at him, mentally putting the name to the face, remembering him from all the times she’s seen him on Zay’s social media and heard stories about him in the last few weeks. Even though they’ve only been friendly for a short time, Vanessa already knows plenty about Zay and Charlie -- exes kind of comes with the territory, especially when those exes are still friends.

Now here he is, in the flesh, back in New York and standing right in front of her like some storybook character come to life. He hasn’t noticed her, busy looking at his phone and trying to decide if he should bother texting Lucas, but she can’t seem to look away from him. She debates saying something, then feels like an insane person for even thinking such a thing. He doesn’t know her. It would be so weird. Why does she feel the need to do so anyway? Most people would steer one-hundred miles clear of their boyfriend’s ex-partner like their life depended on it.

And yet, like some curse is cast on her, she opens her mouth.

Vanessa, uncertainly: … Charlie Gardner?

Charlie immediately straightens up, scanning the diner for the source of address and landing on Vanessa. He offers a smile, by natural charm and instinctual politeness, but his uncertainty mirrors hers.

Charlie: That’s me. Hi. [ a beat ] I’m sorry. It may be because I’ve been out of town for a minute, but do I -- ?

Vanessa: No. No, no, don’t worry. Sorry, I’m being so… no. No, you don’t know me. [ a beat ] I mean, we’ve met before, technically, but not directly and not for any reason you’d remember. Nor want to remember.

God, what is she saying? Charlie nods along, still smiling pleasantly, while Vanessa scrambles for an excuse that makes more logical sense.

Vanessa: I just recognized the name. I go to school with Zay. At Turner.

There it is. His name was all it took -- Charlie’s apprehension immediately melts away, replaced with a fond familiarity. Like if she knows Zay, then that explains everything.

Charlie: Oh, cool.

Vanessa: Yeah. He’s talked a lot about you, so.

Charlie: [ with a bashful smile and laugh ] Good things, I hope.

Ha ha. Vanessa assures him nothing bad. Charlie’s smile brightens, and the flush in his cheeks is no longer because of the winter chill from when he walked in.

Charlie: But yeah, cool. It’s cool you know Zay. [ fondly ] He’s the best.

Indeed… anyway, any friend of Zay’s is a friend of his, so she shouldn’t feel weird having introduced herself so randomly. It’s not as if he hasn’t done embarrassing things in public basically every conversation of his life. Though speaking of introductions…

Charlie: I don’t think I caught your name though. Did you mention it?

Vanessa: Oh, no. Sorry. I’m Vanessa.

Charlie offers his hand, and she shakes it.

Charlie: Nice. I’m Charlie. But you already knew that.

Maybe they’ll see each other around more often, now that Charlie is back in the city. In fact, they will for certain, as Vanessa mentions she’s been invited to Riley’s little holiday gathering. Charlie welcomes that news, stating that he’ll see her there then. Should be a great night.

INT. NYU - LIBRARY - NIGHT

But there’s miles to go before they get some holiday cheer, including those last lingering final exams. Riley and Nigel have hunkered down in a corner of the library to study for their musical theater class final, memorizing monologues and content from musical history textbooks.

It’s dull work, though, so it opens the door for conversation when they need a break. Riley asks Nigel how he’s feeling about the final in their musical theater class, which he shrugs at. He doesn’t think it’ll be too difficult, but to be honest, he kind of feels like the whole semester was a blur.

Nigel: I feel that way about a lot of it honestly, which I don’t think is how the first semester is supposed to feel. I especially blew it with my playwriting class. There were so many assignments and lectures in there that were right up my alley, but… I don’t know. It’s like I was on another planet sometimes.

Riley: Maybe it was the professor?

Nigel shakes his head. He knows it had nothing to do with the class itself, and everything to do with him. This year has been a clusterfuck, and it’s all because he couldn’t figure it out. He doesn’t get into all of that, though, not wanting to burden Riley with it -- or potentially step on the topics of his less than decent behavior regarding her.

Nigel: Either way, I don’t think I aced the first semester. It hasn’t been exactly like I hoped.

Riley: I get that. Honestly, I feel the same way, sometimes.

That catches Nigel by surprise. Is she serious? As far as he could tell, she’s been having an amazing semester. With her enthusiasm in class, and making all these new friends, not to mention her convention-breaking star turn in a musical… she nods along.

Riley: Absolutely, there’s been some high points. I don’t want to discredit that or seem ungrateful. I’m really enjoying the musical, and I know how lucky I am to have been given that opportunity. I’ve loved getting to know our new classmates, and you know I’d put enthusiasm into any class if I liked the content enough.

Nigel: Good point.

Riley: But… I don’t know. Like you said, it just hasn’t been like I imagined. Part of that is on me, you know, getting so tied up in everyone else’s problems like I do. But that’s not all of it. Like, I enjoy the course work, and I am having fun with the musical. But it’s a time suck. I haven’t gotten to devote nearly as much time to Jack’s campaign as I would like. And there’s some classes I’m pretty intrigued by in the course catalogue -- there’s this one on the intersection of gender and power that sounds so interesting, not to mention another on social advocacy in our local communities -- but due to the prescriptive nature of our major in Tisch I don’t have any room in my schedule for them. Not until at least like junior year.

So are things bad, no. Are they everything she dreamed? Not quite. Turns out she’s got her own questioning and uncertainties going on, no matter how put together and cheery she comes off on the outside compared to Nigel’s confusion and inner turmoil. He might have known that sooner, too, had he taken the time to talk to her about it.

Before he can comment, they’re interrupted by IMOGEN LEE, who stops by their table to greet them with interest as authentic as a knock-off Vera Bradley bag. She tells Riley she hopes she’ll have enough time to study for the finals in between all her busybodying and rehearsing for the musical, a sentiment that is slick with faux sympathy.

Riley: I’m doing great, thanks. Good luck to you, too.

Imogen: Thanks. Always nice to have such nice classmates you know you can count on.

She casts a pointed look to Nigel, almost challenging him to make a comment. He doesn’t -- he’s frozen in place, doing his best not to look terrified at the prospect that Imogen, now no longer on his side, might ruin everything and tell Riley half of the shit he humored when she wasn’t around. Stuff he regrets, that he wishes would stay dead and buried.

The threat of it is juicy enough. Imogen tells them to have a nice break and saunters off, leaving an uncomfortable and odd friction in her wake. Riley doesn’t understand why, but she can sense it just as much as Nigel can. She tries to break the tension, giving Nigel a funny look and shrugging off the exchange.

Riley: That was weird. She’s always been kind of… I don’t know. She rubs me the wrong way. Sorry, I know you’re friends --

Nigel: No. No, we’re not. [ glancing after her ] That’s not the kind of person I want to associate with.

Nigel clearly means it. Riley doesn’t question him, letting the moment pass and turning back to her textbook.

EXT. NEW YORK STREETS - DAY

Isa is running back and forth from commitment to commitment this week, the film shoot taking much more time than they expected. They’re just heading out from their therapy appointment, rushing off to the next thing, when in their distraction they literally run into someone on the street corner.

Isa: Shit, sorry --

The person stabilizes them, then offers a smile when they recognize each other.

It’s Farkle. Because somehow, of course it is. In a city of millions, they’d find a way of running right into the person they don’t know how to handle seeing.

Farkle: We’ve got to stop meeting like this.

Isa manages a laugh, straightening up. Thing is, as awkward as they can’t seem to avoid being, it is nice to see him. As the shock wears off, the old feelings come creeping back, most prominently a warm familiarity. They did miss him, as much as their nerves about it all push them in the opposite direction.

The warmth is cooled when Isa discovers that they’re not alone. Farkle is out with Maya, who hangs back to give them a bit of space but obviously isn’t sure how to handle the run-in either. Her shared estrangement with Isa calcifies any potential levity there could’ve been in the happenstance reunion, even as Farkle extends an invitation for Isa to join them.

Farkle: We were just about to hit up Chubbies, if you wanted to tag along?

Maya eyes them curiously, gauging their response. Are they going to take the bait, to brave more time with her and maybe break their ice? But no, Isa has a convenient excuse to decline, as they’re already running off to other plans.

Isa: I’m going shopping with a friend from school. You know, trying to get it all done before things get too hectic.

Ah. Alas. Farkle does his best to hide his disappointment.

Farkle: No worries. Uh, well, we should still find some time to get together. Soon. Do that catching up we’re long overdue for, ha ha.

Isa: Right. Um -- I’ll see. What my calendar looks like.

It’s a genuine response, considering their schedule is suddenly so busy, but they don’t realize how aloof it comes off. Can they manage to squeeze insignificant little Farkle into their oh so popular life? Who knows… Farkle swallows the nonanswer reluctantly, but still tries his best to stay upbeat.

Farkle: Cool. Well… see you later then. Hopefully.

Isa manages a smile, nodding and passing him by. They silently curse to themselves as they keep walking, stuffing their hands in the pockets. How do they keep managing to screw this up so badly?

Asher, pre-lap: No, no, no. You’re doing it all wrong.

INT. NYU APARTMENT - DAY

Christmas cheer is in full swing at the apartment, Dylan and Asher over to help Riley and Lucas decorate the apartment. Given it’s Riley and Dylan, the decor is fun and more than festive. That doesn’t mean Lucas knows what to do with it, though -- he’s being chastised by Asher as he attempts to hang garland on the top of the wall above the bay window.

Asher: It looks like you’ve got a dead snake hanging up there. It needs to look tidy. You want to alternate the cinches so they’re equal in length. 

Lucas: No, that’s your assumption. You know what I want to do?

Lucas hops down from the step stool, walking over and dropping the rest of the garland on Asher’s head. He huffs and tears it off himself, using it to swat at Lucas indignantly. Dylan tuts at them from over by the tree where he’s putting on lights with Riley.

Dylan: Spaghetti, meatball, play nice. It’s Christmas. 

Asher: It’s the week before Christmas.

Dylan: Christmas is a month-long state of affairs. Behave. Don’t make me put you in the refrigerator.

Lucas, bewildered: What does that even mean? Like we’re leftovers?

Dylan: That’s besides the point. Just know that I mean it!

Riley laughs, shaking her head. She separates Lucas and Asher for now, asking the latter to come help her unbox ornaments since that’s a job that requires a careful touch. Dylan remarks that it’s a bummer Isa couldn’t help them decorate, since they’re so busy with the film shoot. It’s a great opportunity, and everything, but it feels weird without them getting to participate.

Riley agrees, especially since it’s her plans that are complicating everything. If she didn’t need to be in Philly for a couple days, they would’ve had more time to do it before the weekend. But she’s glad Isa was okay with them doing it now, because she wants to start the tradition right. She’s also grateful Dylan and Asher were able to be there with them for the occasion.

Dylan: Like we’d ever miss it! As the arbiters of holiday cheer! 

Asher: Can we declare ourselves the arbiters of something?

Dylan: I just did, so yes. We saved Christmas, Ash, it’s our domain now.

Lucas definitely prefers being here with their cheer versus the new, shiny version being put on display in his apartment. He checks his phone and clicks into the family group text they have, the one that’s rarely used and typically only for updates about where Kenneth is or isn’t. Now, it’s suddenly active, Kenneth sending a couple of photos of the finished tree decorated in their living room that Grace gives a thumbs up reaction to.

Weird. It’s just too weird. It makes him feel dissociated, like this isn’t even reality. He hopes they aren’t expecting him to respond, because he wouldn’t even know how. Even the bare minimum reaction of a thumbs up feels so hollow.

Right now, he just wants to forget it. He’s here in his space, with his girlfriend and best friends, and he’d much rather enjoy that -- even with their brand of silliness. At least it’s familiar. At least it makes sense.

Song Cue ♫ ♪ “The Chipmunk Song (Christmas Don’t Be Late)” as performed by Alvin & The Chipmunks || Performed by Dylan Orlando, Riley Matthews, and Asher Garcia (feat. Lucas James Friar)

[ Lyrics specific to characters -- follow along here! ]

Speaking of, it’s time for holiday silliness! Lucas takes on the role of Dave Seville as the ringleader of this band of peppy chipmunks, cueing them up as he turns away from his phone and back into the comfort of their tomfoolery. Thankfully, there’s no voice modulating or squeaking going on in this rendition -- it’s a fun, playful number mostly played straight (or played gay, as Dylan would likely correct).

It’s especially fitting for this group, considering Lucas often feels like when Dylan and Riley get going and talk in their very fast, enthusiastic voices, they sound more like Animal Crossing villagers than human beings. Asher takes the Simon part, Riley the Theodore, naturally leaving Dylan as the mischievous and charismatic leader constantly messing with Lucas.

Overall, it’s a cute little rendition, the three of them singing the famous tune while the group of them continue to decorate the apartment. Lucas helps Riley onto the stepladder to hold her waist while she puts the star on the top of the tree; Dylan and Asher arrange all the little knick-knacks and doo-dads along the window sills. On the line “me, I want a hula hoop,” Dylan rotates his hips to spin an invisible hoop, though it’s naturally flirtatious because he can’t help himself.

During the instrumental break, the decorating continues, Lucas and Asher working together to put the final ornaments on the tree while Dylan and Riley ballroom dance around the living room to the music. As it comes back around to prepare for the final chorus, Lucas addresses each of them.

Lucas: That was very good, Asher.

Asher: [ with a little shrug ] Naturally.

Lucas: Very good, Riley.

She giggles, reaching forward to playfully pinch his ribs before scampering after Asher. Lucas turns his attention to Dylan, who is pretending not to be listening and playing hard to get over by the kitchen island.

Lucas: Uh, Dylan, you were a little flat. Watch it, Dylan. [ when he doesn’t answer ] Dylan…

Dylan glances over his shoulder at him, bashing his eyelashes innocently. Who, me? Lucas huffs.

Lucas: Dylan!

Dylan: OKAY!

Dylan leaps away from the counter and comes back to join them, planting a quick affectionate kiss on Lucas’s cheek along the way. Lucas blinks, not sure how to process that, but we hardly wait for him to catch up. Our trio of singers is barreling through to the end, enthusiastically singing through the remainder of the song. Asher and Dylan each twirl Riley under the arms, before Dylan repeats his silly hula-hoop line again.

Lucas simply watches them, fond and amused, as the number draws to a close. See, this is what authentic holiday cheer is all about!

Lucas: Very good, y’all.

Riley: Let’s sing it again!

Asher: Yeah, let’s sing it again.

Lucas, with dread: No, that’s enough, let’s not overdo it…

Riley: What do you mean overdo it?

Dylan, threateningly: We want to sing it again.

Should’ve never unlocked the beast, Lucas! Now he’s done it, and he won’t win the battle against the chipmunks that easily. He tries to discourage them but it’s no use, particularly when it’s too fun picking on him and they outnumber him three to one. Riley tackles him with a hug and it’s not long before Asher gloms on too, all of them crashing onto a heap on the couch while Lucas frantically tries to get them to have mercy. Dylan tops off the pile, plopping onto Lucas’s lap and grinning triumphantly.

Dylan: Come on, we’re gonna sing this thing again!

EXT. NEW YORK STREETS - NIGHT

Isa is out in the shopping district with MOLLY SINGH, perusing their list and managing to get a decent amount of stuff. Molly remarks she’s glad she doesn’t have to fit a bunch of gifts into her suitcase to go home for the break, considering her family doesn’t celebrate Christmas.

Isa: Sorry I dragged you along. You totally didn’t have to come.

Molly: No, it’s been fun! Good to hang out before the break anyway. It seems like we’re making good progress, too. Who’s left?

Isa looks to their list, then cringes slightly. Farkle is the main person left on their list, and with good reason. They cannot seem to come up with the right thing to get him.

Molly: I thought he was your best friend? Is he particularly hard to shop for?

Isa: No, no he isn’t. It’s not his fault. I’m… it’s just complicated. It’s been kind of a weird semester for us, and I don’t want to pick the wrong thing.

Molly: Do you have any ideas?

In fact, they actually do. There’s one item they’ve been watching online that they think would be perfect, as it has personal meaning between the two of them and they know that Farkle would appreciate it. They do know him well, after all.

Molly: That sounds awesome. So what’s the issue?

Isa: I don’t know. I guess my brain is like… would that be too… like, too much? Since stuff has been so weird. I don’t wanna come on too strong or seem like I’m overcompensating because I’m a shitty friend every other day of the year.

Molly: I’m sure that’s not true, and I doubt he’d think that. If something feels right in your gut, like the perfect gift, you should go for it. Better to do it now and have it go wrong than never do it and always wonder if you should’ve.

Fair point. Isa contemplates… they’ll have to consider it more deeply, especially since it won’t be cheap. Weird to have the disposable income to even think about something like this… thanks Valerie, one supposes.

Anyway, Isa has barely had time to deeply think about it, since they’ve been so busy. With Chelsea’s film shoot eating up all their free time, they haven’t had a ton of time to enjoy the holiday vibes.

Isa: It’s a super good learning experience, though, I’m picking up a ton of firsthand knowledge. You should totally come, why didn’t you decide to work on the shoot?

Molly: … what shoot?

Oh. Oop. Isa frowns, surprised that Molly didn’t know about it. As far as they were aware, Chelsea was inviting all of her students to help, but that obviously isn’t the case. Isa clears their throat, brushing off the question and claiming it’s nothing. They quickly change the topic and ask Molly what her family will do during break instead.

INT. NYU APARTMENT - NIGHT

Holiday decorating has progressed well, much of the apartment appropriately festive. There’s still work to be done, though, Dylan and Riley chattering by the kitchen where they’re hanging stockings for all five of them on the island counter. In the background, Asher is making careful work of perfecting the ratio of ornaments on the tree.

Riley tosses a quick request over her shoulder to Lucas, who is finishing up gathering the trash from all the unwrapping of Christmas decorations they did.

Riley: Can you clear the bay window table please? I’m thinking we can set up the holiday card station there.

Asher: Are you seriously going to write hand-written cards to everyone that’s coming? When you’re already doing all the work to plan the whole thing?

Lucas: Remember who you’re talking to.

Riley: It’s the love and principle of the thing.

Dylan: Damn right it is! [ propping an elbow on Riley’s shoulder ] And you better get your beautiful little bird-boned wrist ready, love, because you’ll be calligraphy-ing the greetings on the front.

Oh, joy… Asher looks thrilled about that assignment. Lucas smiles to himself as they continue to go back and forth behind him, turning his attention to the card table. He starts to clear the clutter, hesitating for a second on Riley and Isa’s ongoing game of Scrabble. It’s been sitting there for months -- he isn’t sure if he should move it or not.

But Riley told him to clear the table, and it can’t matter that much. It’s just a game. So he gathers the board and the pieces and slides them all back into the box, shutting the lid and officially ending the tradition without fanfare.

INT. MINKUS HOME - FARKLE’S BEDROOM - NIGHT

Farkle is on the phone with JORDAN NELSON, catching up with him about the week or so since he left. There’s not much to report, honestly, but Farkle can assure him that his mother has asked plenty of eager questions about him and is dying to meet him.

Jordan: Well, I’m honored. Hopefully I can live up to the mystery.

Farkle: I wouldn’t be worried about that. I think my mom is so excited that there’s actually a romantic partner in my life, you could be just about anything and she would find a way to spin it.

Jordan asks how it’s been seeing everyone from home. No one giving him any trouble, are they? Farkle says it’s been great, and that he didn’t realize how much he missed everyone. He’s been busy, of course, but it’s been really wonderful seeing his friends.

Jordan: Not better than me, I hope. Don’t want you deciding you never want to come back.

Farkle: No, no. Definitely not in my plans. It’s just nice. To be with the people who know you, you know? [ a beat ] Anyway, they’d like you. Maya already does, and she’s about as stingy as my friends get so.

Jordan: High praise. But I’d like to meet them sometime too. Need to actually meet all these characters you’re always talking about. I hope they’re appreciating you being there as much as I would if you were here.

Well… Farkle does pause on that point, thinking about one friend in particular. Jordan senses his hesitation, jumping on it and probing further. Is everything not all peachy in paradise? Could New York have flaws? Farkle laughs awkwardly and tries to wave him off.

Jordan: Minkus, I’m your boyfriend. I’m on your side. If something’s up, I’d want to know about it. That’s what we’re supposed to do for each other.

Okay, fair point. With that in mind, Farkle sighs and tentatively tries to explain the weirdness with Isa. It’s not that things are bad, or that anyone is doing anything wrong. It just feels like for how great they left things before the summer, the best of friends, it’s unbelievably stilted and awkward now. Which Farkle doesn’t understand, because it’s not like anything has changed aside from his location. He still thinks of Isa as his best friend, same as always.

Farkle: I guess I just thought they’d be more excited to see me. Like, more eager to hang out and stuff. That it wouldn’t feel so… wah.

But suppose that’s just growing up and growing apart. No harm, no foul?

In Jordan’s opinion, actually, it is a foul. A big one. He goes hard to take Farkle’s side, which equates to essentially tearing down Isa. Clearly, Isa doesn’t appreciate Farkle for all of his interesting qualities and talents, and their constant ignoring and dismissing is just disrespectful. It’s a wonder whether they ever actually considered him that deep a friend at all.

Farkle: No, I don’t think it’s like that.

Jordan: Well, you wouldn’t. It’s hard to see that in someone you consider a best friend. You’re not an objective party.

Farkle: Yeah, you’re right. I’m just saying that -- this is just part of Isa’s thing. They’ve never been the best at communicating. Like, with anyone. Ever. And I’m not saying that’s an excuse --

Jordan: Kind of sounds like an excuse.

Farkle: It’s not. I’m not trying to make excuses. I’m just saying that… like…

At this point, he doesn’t know what he’s saying. Jordan is making him doubt himself, like maybe he does have it all turned around and isn’t seeing things clearly.

Jordan: Look, I’m sorry. I know that’s not something you want to hear about someone you care about. And you could be right -- you know this person much better than I do. Or at least more. I’m just telling you what I hear, and trying to show you that I’m on your side. You deserve people who make you feel as amazing as you are. If they don’t look at you and see a muse, like I do, then I don’t think they deserve your time. That’s just me, though.

It’s certainly a lot to think about… anyway, Jordan has a film screening to attend, so he’ll let him go. He misses him though, a lot, and unlike Isa, he’s going to make sure he knows it. Farkle manages a smile, thanking him and returning the sentiment.

Once they hang up, Farkle ruminates on their conversation. Has he been giving Isa too much allowance, even when he knows how crucial that grace can be? Is he reading them all wrong, and in fact, they actually just don’t give a shit about him?

He glances at the photos still arranged on his bookshelves, the ones he opted not to take with him to school so he’d still have some pieces of home here. Isa is featured in a good handful of them, including a cute one that appears to have been taken last winter around this time. Maya is in it too, but his focus is on the two of them. So comfortable with one another, Isa closer to him than they usually are with anyone else, even resting their chin on his shoulder. That sure doesn’t look like not giving a shit. But what does he know?

And besides, as all of them can’t seem to escape the truth of, things change.

Song Cue ♫ ♪ “Last Christmas” as performed by WHAM! || Performed by Farkle Minkus

Farkle launches into the iconic 80’s Christmas hit, delivering yet another cultural classic with just the right amount of emotion and the perfect dose of flair. He starts in his room, serenading the old photo, until he just can’t look at it anymore. He gets to his feet.

EXT. NEW YORK STREETS - NIGHT

The performance is a great excuse to get in more of the pretty, glittering city during the holiday season, even more dazzling at night with the lights. Steam escapes Farkle’s lips from the bitter cold as he vocalizes the first verse. While he walks along, to play into the kitsch and vibes of the 80’s, he seems to be haunted by memories. In any place there’s reflective surfaces -- frozen ice, frosted shop windows -- he catches glimpses of moments between him and Isa superimposed over his reflection. Bits and pieces of scenes we’ve seen before, the flickers of romantic tension between them in the last couple of years.

Happy Christmas, I wrapped it up and sent it With a note saying “I love you,” I meant it

The lyrics are especially apt, and remarkably vulnerable for someone who has been doing a good job of holding his cards close to the vest this season. He’s moved on, accepted the way things are, is happy to just have Isa as a friend. He’s got a boyfriend he’s crazy about; he’s doing fine.

But he may not even have Isa as a friend at this point it seems. And it seems that in that potential loss, some of those buried feelings are rising to the surface with a vengeance.

Now I know what a fool I’ve been But if you kissed me now, I know you’d fool me again

EXT. CHUBBIES - NIGHT

Farkle progresses through the streets until he ends up at Chubbies, peering in through the glass of the windows. This time, the apparition he sees isn’t of the past, but the future, as we pass through the glass…

INT. CHUBBIES - DREAMSCAPE - NIGHT

He rolls into the second verse as he walks through an imagined version of the upcoming holiday party (“a crowded room and friends with tired eyes”), the imagery hazy and friends cast in shadows. Only two figures are clearly visible in the low lighting -- him, and Isa, all the way across the room. Talking to other party guests, laughing as if they’re on top of the world.

Not paying him any attention, like he’s not even there.

My God, I thought you were someone to rely on Me? I guess I was a shoulder to cry on

Farkle flees the imaginary party, pushing through the diner doors.

EXT. NEW YORK STREETS - NIGHT

Farkle belts out the rest of the second verse, traversing the sludgy streets. He arrives outside Adams, looking up at the familiar structure. The place that used to be reliable -- the place he and Isa used to share.

He frowns, turning away from it.

Now I’ve found a real love You’ll never fool me again!

As he marches away from the school --

EXT. DINER - NIGHT

He rounds out the number by arriving outside a different diner -- the same one Isa and Farkle hid away at during prom in junior year. Whereas that evening they were together, dancing to their own made-up soundtrack and having a lovely night, now Farkle is alone. He’s dancing solo this time (more like spinning on the icy asphalt, but semantics), insisting to himself more than anyone else that he no longer needs Isa. He’s got someone special, someone who actually values his heart and his company. Now, he’s doing his own thing.

If they’re going to so unceremoniously dump him, then he’ll be fine without them.

INT. CHUBBIES - DAY

The next morning, Zay, Nigel, and Yindra are having brunch before they embark on Christmas shopping. Specifically not related to the gift exchange, but everyone else on their list, considering they run the risk of revealing they have each other.

At least, that’s how Zay and Nigel are playing it. They’re playing hard to get with one another, being vague and mysterious about who they pulled for the exchange just for the sake of messing with each other.

Zay: So are we decidedly not showing our cards this year? Because that’s what your silence is telling me.

Nigel: You know I’m always the last one to reveal stuff like this. Not all of us have the impatience of a toddler who needs instant gratification at all times.

Zay: Now hold on --

Yindra: [ holding up a finger ] Okay, rude. Don’t send strays my way when you’re aiming for Zay.

Nigel: If the shoe fits…

Zay: If you’re refusing to tell me then what that tells me is that you have me.

Nigel: Do I?

Zay: If you didn’t, you would tell me who you got.

Nigel: Would I?

Zay: Are you playing mind games Nigel Chey… is the call coming from inside the house…

Nigel: Don’t think that’s what that phrase means, but I get what you mean.

Zay: So are you?

Nigel: Am I?

Zay: I’m gonna fucking kill you.

Nigel shrugs, taking a cheeky sip of his coffee. Yindra rolls her eyes.

Yindra: Y’all are both so dumb. I’ve already told both of you who I have and you’ve been no help -- which is saying something considering one of you should be very good at helping me with my person.

Nigel: If I gave you all the answers, it wouldn’t be a thoughtful gift. It’d be coming from my heart, not yours. Don’t you have any Christmas spirit, Yindra?

Yindra: I’m on Zay’s team now. I’m also gonna kill you.

Nice holiday cheer! Nigel raises his hands in surrender.

At the same time, Dylan and Asher make their way into the diner. They both look glad to be back, and Dylan’s smile brightens even further (if that’s even possible) when JOE makes his way over from the other end of the diner.

Dylan: Doth my eyes deceive me, could it be? Santa Joe?

Even Joe can’t resist the adorable charm of Dylan Orlando. He tries his best to maintain his gruff demeanor, but a tiny smirk breaks through anyway.

Joe: Look what the snow blew in.

Asher: Nice to see you, Joe.

Joe: Amazingly, I can say the same. If you tell anyone I said this, I will deny it under oath. But I’ve kinda missed the two of you crowding up my counter to distract my employees and prevent other paying customers from sitting there.

Dylan gasps, touching his hand to his heart. He playfully swats at the manager.

Dylan: Joe, ya big softy! We missed you too. How about a grilled cheese to commiserate?

Joe: For you, Orlando? My favorite customer? Why, sure, it’s on the house. [ a beat ] For $9.95 like everybody else.

Got ‘em. Dylan makes a face, exchanging a pithy look with Asher, but he takes the dismissal in stride. The two of them follow Joe back towards the counter, as he wasn’t kidding about getting one of those grilled cheeses. As they pass the front entrance, another familiar face enters -- Charlie is back trying his luck at the diner to see who he can run into.

And boy, did he hit the jackpot this time. He spots Yindra first, which would have been a welcome sight regardless, but then Nigel shifts in his seat and reveals the other person sitting at their table next to her. Charlie catches a glimpse, and his heart honest to God skips a beat. Oxygen has left the building.

Zay is here.

In another testament to how things can change, Charlie doesn’t hesitate. He makes his way over to their table, greeting all of them cheerfully with a smile he couldn’t even try to hold back.

Zay seems to have a similar moment of stopping still when he realizes who it is that’s come to join them, staring up at Charlie at suddenly forgetting what words are or where he is. It almost feels unreal, like it can’t be happening. He looks different, too, adding to the surrealness -- seemingly taller thanks to that new confidence he’s carrying around, hair longer and freer than it’s been since before he cut it at the end of junior year, the tan. Even so, he knows it has to be real, has to be him, because the most endearing, familiar qualities are still there. The absentminded way he fidgets his fingers; his lopsided smile; that unmistakable shine in his green eyes.

He’s back. Charlie is actually back.

Thankfully, Zay’s speechlessness is covered well by Yindra and Nigel picking up the slack in their enthusiastic greetings. Mainly Nigel, considering Yindra just saw him and spent days on the road with him, but her excitement is also informed by the things she learned on said trip and the fact that she’s also witnessing Zay and Charlie see one another for the first time since he left.

A bit of that spectacle does linger, Charlie letting his gaze drift to Zay again and allowing them eye contact. For a moment that’s only seconds but feels like an eternity, they simply look at each other.

It’s real. Charlie’s smile grows naturally, second nature, the longer he takes Zay in.

Charlie, breathless: Hi.

Zay can’t even manage that, as it seems his brain has left the building. A smile will have to do. Yindra watches them with rapt interest, waiting for more.

Nigel, though, is oblivious to absolutely everything, and interrupts their silent staring contest to ask Charlie how his trip was. He assumes they’ll have more time to chat about it at the party, but he’s dying to hear about it. In fact, if he has the time, he’s welcome to join them for brunch.

Charlie: I wish I could. Seriously, I’d love that. But I’m actually just stopping in to pick up an order. I’m going Christmas shopping with a couple of my sisters.

Yindra: Isn’t that like, half your shopping list though? Won’t that ruin the surprise?

Charlie: Well, one of them is the exiled one, so that kind of eliminates that problem -- she won’t be revealing anything to anyone any time soon. And the other one is Rosie, who I already finished shopping for. She’s so easy to buy for, which thank goodness.

Nigel: How many sisters do you have again?

Charlie: Four. And now one of them is married, so add an in-law to the list too. Plus their new baby.

Nigel: Damn. Rip to your wallet.

Charlie: Price of Christmas cheer, I suppose.

Anyway, even though he can’t stay, Charlie is glad he caught them all. He wanted to invite them all to the annual holiday celebration his church is putting on, as he’s doing a performance and he’d like for his friends to be there. It’s nothing fancy, and they absolutely don’t have to come if they don’t want to deal with the whole potentially hostile or awkward environment…

Yindra: Oh, I think that’s all the more reason to go. Your church could use more of our natural charms. Like our sophistication, and taste --

Zay: And queer as fuckness?

Yindra: Don we now our gay apparel, babes.

Zay and Yindra clink their glasses together, Nigel shaking his head. Charlie laughs along with them, which is a feat in its own right. In any case, he’s planning to text out details to the group chat later, but he wanted to extend that invitation in person since he was lucky enough to catch them. It would mean a lot to him if they were there.

For now, though, he has to go. But not before saying goodbye -- and once again being unable not to linger on Zay for an inordinate amount of time with a grin that should be illegal.

Charlie: See you soon.

Zay nods, returning the sentiment. Charlie won this round, as he decidedly caught him by surprise. Zay doesn’t like surprises, has never handled them well. Next time they see each other, he’ll be ready for it. He’ll have his shit together.

Lord only knows what might happen if he doesn’t.

INT. LUCAS’S APARTMENT - KITCHEN - DAY

Lucas stops by to grab a couple of things from his room, but he’s drawn to the kitchen in a detour. Because it smells delicious, the culprit a fresh tray of sugar cookies being pulled from the oven. Grace is in full-on holiday bake mode, something she hasn’t done for fun in years.

Lucas: What’s all this for? Did the oven for the cookies at the flower shop break or something?

Grace: No. They’re for Kenneth. Well, they’re for all of us. But I made them for him. These were his favorite when we were in college. His mom’s recipe.

Oh… well. Okay then. Lucas looks like he wants to say something, but then thinks better of it. He starts to walk away and leave it be… but then it won’t stop itching at him, so he turns around and blurts it out.

Lucas: What’s the point of this?

Grace tilts her head, confused. It takes him a second, but Lucas finds the words to elaborate. He questions all the effort they’re putting into things all the sudden this year -- the decorating. The tree. Now cookies. It’s nice, or whatever, but is it really necessary?

Grace: Is it ever necessary…

Lucas: Is this really all because he’s dying? Like, I guess I get it, but if that’s the only reason we’re doing it then I think we should at least be honest about it.

Grace: That’s not what’s going on. And even if it was, would that be such a problem? Is there something about a little more decor and cookie that’s so offensive?

Good question. One that stumps Lucas, that he can’t find the answer to. Because technically, Grace is right. Nicer things shouldn’t be a bad thing. Yet he knows it feels wrong; he knows there’s something about the whole thing that leaves a sour taste in his mouth that no amount of sugar will overpower.

The unfortunate side effect is that it puts them on opposite sides of the road block wedged between their family, which hasn’t been the case for a while. It creates an awkwardness, one that certainly doesn’t pair with the holiday cheer and cozy Christmas vibe they’re going for.

Grace senses his apprehension. She acknowledges that it’s decidedly different for them, and maybe too little, too late. But life is short, and Grace just wants to enjoy the time that’s left and make peace. No reason to litigate the past when the present feels numbered. And Kenneth wants this too -- he wants to try and have something better. If he’s on that page, then she’s not stupid enough to resist it.

Lucas hears what she’s saying; he can see the ethos in it. But his mind can’t skip ahead to their page without reconciling what came before it. He can’t erase the precedent of the last twenty years.

INT. CHEY APARTMENT - DAY

Zay, Nigel, and Yindra have regrouped to hang out in Nigel’s room, comfortably scrolling on their devices as they work on Christmas shopping. A local radio station is playing holiday tunes softly. Zay has caved and revealed he has Dylan, which is way harder than you’d expect it to be considering he’s one of those people who will like anything, which is extremely unhelpful.

Zay: So I tried asking Asher for help, polite and self-effacing as always, but he’s a petty little bitch and refused to just talk straight with me.

Nigel: Well, come on, how could you expect that of him? He’s gay.

Zay: Ugh. You’re so not funny. But he was all “well, what’s in it for me, Zay,” and “what have you ever done for me,” and “you mean you don’t know enough about Dylan to come up with something yourself after being his classmate for four years,” as if all of us spend our entire day staring into Dylan’s big green goo-goo eyes.

Yindra cracks up. Both of them find Asher’s pettiness towards Zay hilarious, so they don’t offer much sympathy. He grumbles at them both and claims he’s going to get a snack, leaving the two of them in their chuckles at his expense.

Once they’re alone, Yindra asks how Nigel is going with his shopping. Is he really not going to tell them who he got? As much as he’d like to maintain the holdout, because it’s funny watching Zay get so annoyed by it, he quietly reveals to Yindra that he got Riley. As great a selection as that may seem, the reason he bothered to tell her at all is because he’s lowkey freaking out about what to do.

Yindra: Why? I feel like getting Riley is like the golden ticket. You know she’ll love anything you get her. You can’t lose.

Nigel: Maybe, yeah. It’s just…

Nigel swallows, releasing a nervous sigh. He lowers his voice to a murmur as he confides in Yindra about what happened this semester -- how he got caught up with the wrong friends, caught up in his own head and angst, and ended up saying some not great things.

Yindra: Oh, Nige…

Nigel: I know. It’s so shitty. I feel so, so bad about it, like I wish I could take it all back and wipe the slate clean. But I can’t. But now it’s like, I’m trying to pick this gift and all I can think about is how I don’t even deserve to be going to this party, let alone getting a gift for Riley, when I’m probably the worst friend there is. I wish someone else had gotten her -- someone who actually deserves it. No one deserves getting stuck with me.

Yindra halts his self-hatred, putting the brakes on it and insisting he not be so hard on himself. Transitions like this are fucking rough, and it’s not the end all be all on his character that he made some poor choices. He can make up for that by not doing it again and better appreciating his friends like Riley moving forward. But for now, he can’t let this get him so in his head that he freezes up and blows one of his best opportunities to show Riley how much she means to him without it feeling out of pocket.

It’s a good point, one Nigel tries to absorb. Rather than dreading this obligation because he hasn’t earned the right to be Riley’s gifter, he should make the most of it. He wants to ask for more advice, but he clams up when Zay returns, not at all tuned into the semi-serious conversation they were just having. So the discussion halts for now.

They get distracted by music on the radio anyway, a classic in Zay’s family coming on. He asks Nigel to turn it up, teeing up the hip track.

Song Cue ♫ ♪ “Mary’s Boy Child / Oh My Lord” as performed by Boney M. || Performed by Zay Babineaux, Yindra Amino, and Nigel Chey

Nigel is surprised that Zay knows and likes this song, considering he’s so blase about religion. It’s literally about Jesus Christ and his birth. Zay rolls his eyes.

Zay: This is commercial Christmas Christianity, not Gardner church Christianity. And I’ll appreciate any song regardless of affiliation if it’s a bop enough.

And this sure is! To make his point, Zay starts singing along when the first verse starts, showing off how yes in fact he does know every word by heart. So the holy Bible said…

Yindra, amused: This has to be the only reason you know shit about The Bible!

She jumps up next to join him in singing along, the two of them grooving to the chorus and harmonizing. Nigel laughs along until they manage to pull him into it, each taking one of his hands and yanking him up onto his feet. They continue through the first half of the number goofing around Nigel’s room, jumping onto the bed and just getting to be loose and silly with performing in a way none of them have gotten to in what feels like forever with each of their intense post-grad pursuits.

They head out of Nigel’s room, dancing their way along --

EXT. NEW YORK STREETS - DAY

And out onto the streets, now donning shimmery silver tinsel-like versions of the outfits they were wearing before. It pairs well with the way the city looks in the midst of its snowy winter blanket, a trendy palette of whites, silvers, and blues. They sing their way through the second verse and chorus, passing the lines back and forth and naturally doing three-part harmony.

When we hit the bridge following the hums, Nigel takes the vocal line, looking up at us from where he’s laying in the snow in Central Park. As the camera eases out, Yindra and Zay are included in the shot lying with their heads adjacent to his in a triangle formation.

INT. AAA - AUDITORIUM - DAY

In a twist on Duet Dasher, Trio Star Squad takes the theoretical stage with much more flair, channeling 70’s/80’s glam pop aesthetic versus Ed Sullivan 50’s vibe. They’ve got tinsel trees and a snowy wonderland set up behind them, each of them standing in a line at their own solo microphone with Yindra in the middle. She’s now in a gorgeous and fun silver gown with plumes of fringe on the sleeves, a dated but funky look sort of like this. Nigel and Zay are both in suits, also silver with fringe trim, both suited to their individual style but equally flashy as the aesthetic demands.

It’s this set up that brings the number to a close, all of them riffing and playing off one another as they finish off the holiday neo-classic. Leave it to the true stars to deliver some sparkle!

INT. MACY’S - DAY

Charlie, as promised, is out shopping with Rosie and BRIDGETTE GARDNER, who is now sporting a fresh and very chic pixie cut. Charlie blithely comments on it while Rosie marches ahead of them and scans for gifts -- how much things can change while abroad!

Bridgette: I know, I know. Now your hair is longer than mine. I’m sure mother would love to have that knowledge.

As if she hasn’t already mentioned Charlie cutting his now that he’s back at least twice already… in the few times she’s actually spoken to him. Bridgette grows a bit more serious, wondering if she should be concerned. But Charlie brushes it off.

Charlie: She’s just busy. You know how she gets, especially this time of year. [ off her nod ] And I don’t know, I think it’s just kind of weird. Having had me be away for so long. It’s kind of like that with everyone, this kind of like… readjustment. No one really knows what to say.

Bridgette: That’s not true. I did. I said “wow, Chuckles, you clearly didn’t wear your sunscreen,” which is a testament to your new cool devil-may-care attitude that you weren’t constantly fretting about skin cancer.

Charlie: Well most people aren’t you. And for your information, I did wear sunscreen. The UV index is no laughing matter.

And yet, Bridgette snickers at him anyway. Charlie elaborates on the Eleanor point, claiming that he doesn’t feel like she’s upset with him or anything. It’s not like a freeze out, the way it was with her. It’s just… different. Usually, she’s smothering the heck out of him, wanting to know every detail of his business. Now she’s keeping her distance, and he can’t decide whether he should be grateful or wary.

Rosie interrupts them, rushing back and holding up a cute creme cashmere sweater. They raise their eyebrows, inviting her to elaborate.

Rosie: Daisy?

At that, Bridgette bursts out laughing. Charlie tries to suppress a grin, but fails.

Bridgette: A nice sweater? For your sister who likes crawling around the dirt poking at bugs? You are truly terrible at this.

Rosie: [ with a growl ] It’s not my fault everyone in this family is so weird! Why can’t she like normal things?

Rosie storms off to try again. Charlie asks Bridgette what she decided to get Daisy, provided they can get the gifts to her without too much fanfare from their parents.

Bridgette: There’s this museum upstate that has a whole exhibit opening in the spring about “the evolution of the modern insect.” I figure I can offer to drive her up to see it and pay for tickets. It’ll be a couple of the most dull hours of my life, and probably an awkward car ride considering neither of us can hold a conversation, but hey, that’s what sisterhood is all about.

Curiously, Charlie echoes the same question about Agatha, which Bridgette recedes from a bit. She admits she hadn’t thought much about it, nor what she would get their new nephew -- mainly because there’s been no invitation extended to her to be involved. Charlie frowns.

Charlie: I’m sure she wants you to be. She probably just doesn’t know how to reach out.

Bridgette: Maybe. You always do assume the best in people.

Charlie: I’m not just assuming. I believe it. If you want to be in his -- their -- lives, maybe you could risk reaching out first.

Not that he blames her for her silence. But as she rightfully pointed out a year or so ago, not everyone is like Charlie -- she can’t necessarily wait for everyone else to put their foot forward first. Bridgette seems to know that, deep down, but for now the pride and self-preservation are stronger.

Charlie does her the favor of changing the subject, extending an invitation of his own. He tells her about the annual church winter showcase, one she was formerly familiar with, and claims he wants her to come along too. She’s already made waves with her reappearance at his graduation party, so that part is out of the way. Mainly, he just wants all the people he cares about to be there.

Bridgette still seems hesitant, but not opposed. She plays coy.

Bridgette: I’ll think about it. What will you be singing, oh darling star of the sanctuary?

Charlie: … as soon as I decide, I’ll let you know.

Bridgette: [ with a gasp ] What, no “Good King Wenceslas?” Or no third time’s the charm rendition of “O Holy Night?”

Charlie blushes, nudging her. His past choices of the last decade or so definitely weren’t inspired and were usually subtly guided by Eleanor, channeling classic, safe, and traditional. Bridgette’s jokes highlight exactly why he hasn’t picked his arrangement this year quite yet. He wants what he chooses this year to be more joyful, more representative of his tastes and his personhood. He spent all this time away becoming more comfortable with himself, so now he wants to start finding ways to share that with everyone else.

At the same time, however, he’s sure the hype around his performance is greater than ever with Eleanor building him up mythically in his absence, so he doesn’t want to go overboard and completely mess everything up. It’s a delicate balance, one he suspects he’ll be perfecting for a long time to come. Bridgette wishes him luck, but also applauds his ambition to aim for authenticity. No doubt it’ll be a more enjoyable performance at the very least.

INT. ANYA KELLY DESIGN STUDIO - MAIN FLOOR - NIGHT

The evening before the studio closes for the holidays, SKYLAR ALBRIGHT and JAMAL ALLEN are splitting some of the cookies from the kitchen that were called in as a thank you for the year. They perk up when Jade descends from the world above to join them, greeting her happily but hesitantly considering how their conversation before Thanksgiving went.

Jade is more than humbled now, though, so she holds no grudges. Quite the contrary, actually, she comes bearing gifts, which she gives to each of them after a bit of small talk is exchanged. It’s nothing much, just an embroidered patch she designed for each of them and a $10 gift card to their favorite local haunts, but it is definitely the thought that counts.

Jamal: Damn, Jade, this is dope. You really didn’t have to do all that.

Skylar: Seriously. This is too sweet, but I’m also such an asshole for not getting something for you.

Jamal: Yeah. Skylar, you owe me two gifts for two years.

Jade: You don’t owe me anything. Think of it as a thank you, for being my guides and being so welcoming when I first started. I just wanted you to know how much that meant to me -- means to me. You’re both so cool and talented, and I can’t wait to see what you accomplish.

Aw. Jade clearly means every word -- she now knows how right they were in trying to protect her from the worst of what this industry could do. Jamal asks if he can give her a hug and she agrees, accepting a dual embrace from both of them.

It’s undeniably sweet, yet it has the strange shadow of feeling like a goodbye.

INT. MATTHEWS HOME - LIVING ROOM - NIGHT

Riley arrives through the front door of the Matthews home in Philadelphia, a cozy and decently sized single family dwelling in the suburbs. It’s imperfect but lived in, a big Sears photo of the original clan featuring college-aged Eric and Cory and an infant Josh hanging above the fireplace mantle. It’s definitely been recently tidied up to accommodate the incoming guests.

AMY MATTHEWS wastes no time greeting Riley, rushing to give her a tight embrace and asking how everything is going. It’s genuine affection, and Riley happily accepts it, receiving a slightly more awkward but no less warm hug from her grandfather ALAN MATTHEWS moments later.

While he takes her belongings upstairs to the guest room, Riley goes to join the circle of the rest of the clan -- Josh, Eric, Jack, and MORGAN MATTHEWS. Morgan is cute like her niece, but effortlessly cool, built like an athlete given her career in coaching soccer after playing competitively through high school and college. She gets up from her spot on the armchair to give Riley a hug since they rarely see each other.

Riley: Where’s my dad?

Morgan: Where do you think?

Eric: He and Shawn are in the kitchen.

Josh: Pigging out in bits before dinner like they always do.

Riley smiles, shaking her head. Although the banter is light, and everyone has been nothing but friendly, there is an uneasy, subtle tension floating just under the surface. Some of that family drama that Eric referred to before he and Jack left for Philly, just waiting for the right moment to spill over.

EXT. NEW YORK STREETS - NIGHT

There’s remarkably less tension between Isa and CHAI FRESCO, who are hanging out as promised while she’s home for the holidays. It seems throughout the evening they’ve been able to revisit their relationship and their breakup, clear all the remaining air, so now they’re able to chat normally and move forward as friends.

Before they depart for the evening, Chai confirms she’ll be at Riley’s reunion party.

Chai: To be honest, I was honored to even be invited. Would’ve been real easy to dump me and all my baggage once our time at Adams was done.

Isa: I think that could be said for any of us. But that’s not how Riley rolls. Even Sarah got an invite I’m pretty sure, but she’s the only one who said she couldn’t make it.

Or perhaps didn’t want to come, but no one is particularly sad about that absence. Chai takes the opportunity to ask if Isa’s caught up with anyone else yet, or if all the reunions will truly be at the party.

Isa: Somewhat. Seen the techies obviously. And now you.

Chai: Right. How about Farkle? How’s he doing?

Isa: Oh. Um, yeah, well. He seems to be doing… good. You know.

Chai: Right. [ a beat ] And how are you doing?

Isa: About what?

Chai: About him?

Isa stares at Chai. Is she for real? What is she talking about… but given how Chai is holding her gaze, insistent yet non-judgmental, it’s clear what she’s implying. Chai was never an idiot; she wasn’t delusional. She always figured there were some mixed feelings going on there, whether or not they had any impact on their dynamic. Now that their obligations have ceased…

If only Isa had anything to report. They clear their throat, shrugging noncommittally. No idea what Chai’s talking about. They’re fine. Everything about Farkle is fine, obviously. Chai doesn’t look convinced, but she was mainly just curious, so she lets it go. She exchanges a quick side hug and wishes Isa well, claiming they’ll catch each other at the party.

Isa nods and watches Chai head down the block, expression clouded with thought. How are they doing about Farkle? Arguably not well, considering they can’t seem to function around him and keep saying the wrong thing. It should be easy, exciting to see him, as effortless as living to fall back into the same old best friend routine. They should’ve been hanging out all break. Isa should know everything about him.

But as they damn well know, living is not an effortless task. It’s work, hard work, and apparently keeping their friendship alive is too. It’s even more difficult considering the… everything else. All the feelings Isa’s been going back and forth out, trying to stifle, that more and more demand to be felt.

It’s hard to exist when you can’t live your truth.

Song Cue ♫ ♪ “Merry Christmas Darling” as performed by The Carpenters || Performed by Isa De La Cruz

Isa stoically launches into the ultimate holiday ode to pining, perfectly fitting for their current emotional predicament. They look up towards the stars, partially obscured by the cloud cover that signals snow to come, serenading the cosmos as if that’ll translate the message to who they actually want to hear it.

INT. AAA - AUDITORIUM - NIGHT

In their turn on the imaginary AAA stage, the set up is sparse, just them standing on a couple of acting blocks behind the microphone (in an homage to their important scene with Farkle in 210). No glitzy Christmas glamor here, no flashy baubles or decor. Just Isa and their voice, confronting their emotions for what feels like the first time all year.

EXT. NEW YORK STREETS - NIGHT

As they make their way home, walking along the busy streets, they reminisce -- or, as the lyrics note, “they can dream.” So they do; as they meander, alone in the crowd, they watch a different version of themselves take on the city with their best friend. Alternate Isa is having a totally different holiday, spending every possible second with Farkle -- teasing each other as they walk the familiar concrete streets of the city; laughing over dinner and chatting avidly seen through storefront windows; chasing each other with snowballs through Central Park.

INT. AAA - AUDITORIUM - NIGHT

The peak of that fantasy comes at the final repetition of the last line, Isa soulfully singing the declaration “I wish I were with you.” After they do, Farkle makes his appearance, coming to join them on the stage and standing opposite them. Eye to eye, thanks to the acting blocks, same as they were two years ago.

Only this time, there’s one new little holiday detail. Mistletoe. Isa looks up, clocking it uncertainly… but when they let their gaze drift back down to Farkle, the apprehension melts away. For a torturous moment, they simply hold each other’s gaze, but then Isa leans forward, closing the distance between them. Farkle mirrors them, noses brushing…

EXT. JACK AND ERIC’S PLACE - NIGHT

But that’s not reality. In the real world, where the truth matters, Isa is alone. They plop down on the steps outside Eric’s home, releasing a deep breath and then hiding their head in their hands.

Break 1.

INT. GARDNER HOME - CHARLIE’S BEDROOM - NIGHT

Charlie is sifting through sheet music from his church library, still trying to narrow down what song he’s going to perform. Time is running out to decide… but nothing feels right. It’s like everything his church has to offer is no longer a fit; he’s outgrown the classic carols. He wants to pick something memorable, something that feels like him.

He might need to call for backup. The good news is, he has just the right person in mind.

INT. YINDRA’S BEDROOM - NIGHT

Yindra is wrapping her gifts for the holidays, pausing when she sees an incoming call on her phone. She picks up once she sees who it is.

Yindra: Yello?

Charlie: Wow, look at that. You answered. I thought you said you’d never pick up if someone called unannounced.

Yindra: Yes, well, every rule has its exceptions. Don’t you just feel so special?

Charlie beams. The conversation continues intercut between them, Charlie explaining his dilemma and that he’s hoping for some groovy musical guidance. Yindra always has good taste, and she’s at least as versed in Christmas music as he is. Probably more so, in fact -- their church has a suspiciously low amount of Motown on the shelves.

Charlie: It’s not that there aren’t options, but none of them feel right. I want it to feel… alive, you know? I want to show how much I’ve changed -- for the better.

Yindra: I think the tan does that for you, babe.

Charlie: I mean, I guess I can just do like, “Carol Of The Bells,” or something --

Yindra: Oh, God. No, no, no. First of all, how the hell are you gonna do all those voice parts on your own? That song cannot be a solo.

Charlie: Good point.

Yindra: More important, though, you’re not gonna do something boring as sin. Not this year. This is your glo-up era, Charlie, and you’re going to serve with style.

Love the energy! But the question remains -- how? Yindra thinks on it, then tells Charlie to meet her at Svorski’s in an hour. She’s got an idea of what to do next.

INT. LUCAS’S APARTMENT - NIGHT

Grace and Kenneth are seated on the couch together, wrapping up some gifts to send to Texas. Lucas emerges from his room and almost escapes without comment, but Kenneth pipes up and asks where he’s off to. There’s nothing incendiary about the statement, just curiosity, but considering he’s never shown any interest before, Lucas bristles at the questioning.

Lucas: Dylan’s. They invited me over for dinner.

Right then… if we’re done here… Lucas starts to head out, but this time Grace stops him. He reluctantly reenters the living area as Grace mentions there was an idea Kenneth wanted to talk to him about. Lucas doesn’t react, waiting blankly for whatever it is to be said.

Now that he’s been prompted, suppose it’s time. Kenneth clears his throat, and does his best to deliver friendly and unimposing.

Kenneth: I’m not sure if you had other plans, but I was thinking it would be nice for us to do Christmas as a family.

Lucas: [ at a loss ] Why?

He doesn’t mean for it to come out brazen -- he’s just so shocked it’s even being brought up that it comes out unfiltered. Kenneth’s temper flares a bit, but he tries to tame it, keeping his cool with just a slight edge in his voice.

Kenneth: It’s been a while. I thought it could be fun. We’ve got the decorations out, pretty sure the folks will be sending a few gifts. Your mom can make the jumbo cinnamon roll the way her mother used to. Think it’ll be good to appreciate the holiday together, too, since…

Since it’ll likely be the last one. Yeah. That’s a really nice sentiment, and everything, but it feels so unbelievably wrong coming from his father and spoken in this haunted apartment that Lucas literally can’t wrap his brain around it.

Lucas: You can’t be serious.

Grace: Lucas…

Kenneth: Why wouldn’t I be serious?

Lucas: [ scoffing in disbelief ] Because this is a joke! This whole thing, the faux friendliness, the [ gesturing vaguely around ] decor, this whole Brady Bunch mirage. It’s not real! It’s like we’re playing house, and it’s making me feel insane.

It’s just too much. The whiplash is too painful; the sentimentality too nauseating in its shallowness. Lucas cannot do it. So nice as the offer is -- or is supposed to be -- big pass. There are people he’d much rather spend the holiday with, since it’s a miracle it can be salvaged in his mind anyway.

Grace: Maybe we should just take some time to think about it.

Lucas: No. I don’t need to think about it.

Kenneth: What is the matter with you? Seriously, I mean, where the hell did we go wrong?

Lucas: You’ve got to be kidding me. You’re kidding me, right?

Kenneth: Why can’t we just make this work? Why can’t you put aside your antics for one fucking day --

Lucas: Why? Because I don’t want to. That’s it. That’s the answer. Sorry if it’s so despicable, but I’d rather spend the morning with people who actually managed to show the fuck up in the last ten years and not beat me when they did.

Oof. Oh, it’s all spiraling out of control now. Kenneth rises to his feet, and Grace leaps up immediately after, bracing for the worst. But Kenneth isn’t the formidable force he used to be -- a wave of dizziness hits him, causing him to pause and steady himself.

But illness does nothing to stifle his mouth.

Kenneth: You’ve always been this way. Such a bratty, ungrateful little shit. Why do you think I always had to get on your case all the time? You think I wanted to do any of that? But what am I supposed to do when you’re always getting into shit?

Lucas, quietly: I didn’t deserve it.

Kenneth: Boy, let me assure you, you’ve always gotten exactly what you’ve deserved. That’s why this ain’t right -- that’s why you’re still stuck here rather than doing anything worthwhile with your life --

Grace: Kenneth, please, stop --

Kenneth: And now you’re gonna look me in the eyes, while I’m fucking dying, and tell me to fuck off? Like asking for a little family time is such a burden on you? [ shaking his head ] How the hell did we create something so soulless?

Lucas’s jaw drops open slightly, his words landing like a kick to the stomach. Which is just as well, considering that’s probably what he would’ve done instead if he had the strength.

Lucas: Me? I’m the soulless one?

Kenneth: Talk back to me again. Try it one more time.

Lucas: No, go ahead. What are you gonna do? Can’t be nothing you’ve never done before, or is there some new Christmas version of your bullshit you’re going to gift me since you’re so gungho about the holidays now?

Grace: Okay, enough! Stop!

Grace braves the risk of stepping in between them, holding her hands up in surrender as if that’ll speak for them both. She looks to Lucas and claims that if he doesn’t want to stay, if he’s really dead set against it, then yes, he should just go. If he doesn’t want to be here, then he should leave.

She’s trying to keep the peace, to spare them both, and the moment isn’t meant to be harsh. But once again, Lucas thinks, she’s taking Kenneth’s side. She’s choosing Kenneth over him, validating his cruelty and petty insecurity, all at the expense of him. She’s keeping the peace, but who’s winning because of it?

Lucas shakes his head, anger hiding his hurt well enough, and storms out of the apartment. When the door slams, Grace jumps slightly, and she stays turned away from Kenneth as he continues to bad-mouth Lucas under his breath. Her eyes well with tears, but she bites them back, taking a long breath before helping Kenneth settle back down onto the couch.

INT. MATTHEWS HOME - DINING ROOM - NIGHT

They’re not the only family having an explosive evening. Family dinner with the Matthews starts casually enough, everyone on their best behavior to the point that the conversation is oddly muted. If they can keep this up, maybe they’ll get through the night… but no. Amy sets them up for trouble when she clears her throat and claims she wants to make a toast, raising her glass and prompting the rest of them to do the same.

Her words are innocent enough, stating it’s wonderful to actually have the full clan here for the holidays at least for a portion of it… even if they don’t get to actually have the privilege of hosting them on the actual day. This is a passive-aggressive dig, and the message is received, but everyone has the good sense to let it go unaddressed. Amy finishes out with some genuine gratitude to her lovely family, the children she’s so proud of, and the chance to gather all together for whatever amount of time. Everyone cheers, takes a drink, and that seems to be that.

That is, until Amy glances at Josh and makes a small comment under her breath when she looks back towards her plate.

Amy: Would be nice to say those words more often, but…

Josh: Okay. [ dropping his fork and holding his hands up ] Why did you look at me when you said that?

Amy feigns innocence, shaking her head.

Amy: I didn’t. I didn’t do anything of the sort.

Josh: Don’t do that. Don’t do the thing where you make me feel guilty, and then make me feel crazy.

Eric: Here we go…

Amy: I wasn’t singling you out, Joshua.

Josh: You looked right at me!

Amy: I did not!

Morgan: You totally did, mom.

Alan: Not helping, Morgan.

Morgan shrugs. This is what she’s been waiting for since she got here. It had to happen eventually!

Josh: And for the last time, please, don’t call me Joshua. 

Amy: It’s your name!

Josh: Yeah, and I don’t like it! So maybe you could respect that, unlike everything else about my life you’re constantly judging.

Alan: We do not judge. We are never judging you all.

At that, the entire table basically does a group snort. Is he for real? Amy and Alan are the royalty of passing judgment! They try to retort this, but each kid backs it up. Amy grows frustrated, waving them all down and clasping her hands together in front of her almost like prayer.

Amy: I was not trying to pass judgment nor target a comment at Josh. To be frank, that note was meant for everyone at the table.

Cory: So it was judgment.

Amy: We don’t see any of you enough! It’s like you’ve all gone off the grid.

Shawn: [ with a mouthful of mashed potatoes ] God, I wish.

Amy: You’re just the most obvious offender, Josh, since you choose to be so far away.

Josh: I’m following my passion. I’m building a career.

Cory: Well, what kind of career is being someone’s assistant for three years…

Oh, so now Cory is getting ballsy?! Josh scoffs, getting defensive.

Josh: Jeez, chill! I don’t need this again like every other time I come home. And for your information, I have a song coming out this week that I single-handedly produced.

Eric: What?

Riley, excitedly: You do?!

Morgan: Say more right now. The fuck?

Amy: Morgan! Language!

Morgan: The frick?

Josh: Yes. I collaborated with an up and coming artist, Maya Hart.

Morgan: OMG, “OMG” girl? I love that song. Such a bitch bop.

Riley: You didn’t tell me this! When did this happen?

Josh: And you shouldn’t be on my case, Cory, considering you’re one breath away from being let go at a moment’s notice for being such a crap teacher.

Oh brother. CORY MATTHEWS gets huffy, while Eric quickly ducks his head considering he’s the one with said power to fire him. SHAWN HUNTER raises a hand in surrender.

Shawn: I mean, let’s be honest, is Adams exactly the pinnacle of good teachers…

Eric: Hey. Hold on --

Jack: Speak for yourself.

Cory: Well, even if I don’t like my job --

Eric: I’m sorry, what?

Cory: At least I’m still nearby enough to pay visits to our aging parents! At least I’m a good son!

Alan: Hey, who said anything about aging --

Eric/Cory/Morgan/Josh: You’re aging.

Morgan: And you’ve got all the time in the world to be here, Cor, since you’re not trying to impress your hardass ex-wife anymore. Ain’t divorce a magical thing?

Not the divorce… Amy remarks that they don’t need to bring that up, as it still makes her sad. Riley makes a face at that, but wisely doesn’t comment. Cory desperately tries to deflect attention off of him.

Cory: Well, at least I got married! Rather than just shacking up with my coworker for months without doing anything about it!

Hey, whoa, whoa, hey! Jack coughs in surprise, Eric immediately going on defense and snapping back at Cory that his relationships are none of his business. Amy and Alan try to take the moment to probe, like is there more they maybe should know about him and Jack, but he again reiterates it’s none of their business.

Eric: And even if there was news to share, think it’s probably going to be off now that he’s seen the shitshow this clan is capable of!

Josh: So there is news?

Riley: Wait, what?!

Eric: NO. THERE IS NO NEWS. I guess I’m just a slut and shacked up at forty!

Well, better that than alone, right… or tying yourself up too young. Cory is perfect evidence of that, and based on Amy’s aside comment about it, it’s clear who the other target is meant to be. Riley stares at her grandmother, not expecting to be pulled into this.

Riley: I’m sorry, are you talking about me?

Alan: Maybe this isn’t the best time to have this conversation…

Riley: No, by all means, go ahead. If you have something to say, please say it.

Eric: I don’t think --

Amy: Riley, honey, I did not mean anything by it. Just like I’ve said this whole time, I’m not trying to single anyone out.

Morgan: But you’re so good at it…

Amy: Cory’s just been telling us about how things are going, with Lucas’s deferment and everything, and… I’m just a bit worried! That’s all! I can’t help but care about how things might be going for my only granddaughter.

Eric: All right, cheap shot.

Morgan: We get it. 

Josh: This is why I never come home.

This even gets a stray shot thrown towards Shawn, as Amy points out he had the perfect opportunity to bring his baby to this event and neglected to consider it. Shawn frowns.

Shawn: Hey, don’t take this out on me! It’s not my fault your kids don’t want to bring more Matthews into this world.

Morgan: One can scarcely imagine why…

This conversation is just spiraling at this point, as most ridiculous Matthews family gatherings do, but Riley hasn’t moved past the Lucas comment. She’s still dumbstruck that he would be brought up when he’s not even here, and that they seem to be discussing him so much behind her back. That they think they’re acting concerned, “caring” about her, but all they’re doing is gossiping and acting as yet another relentless voice doubting her heart.

In an abrupt cut away, off her fuming expression --

EXT. CHRISTMAS TREE FARM - NIGHT

Maya is enjoying a much more idyllic evening, the tree farm just as pretty at night with the string lights and blow-up decorations around the lot painting it in delightful, colorful glows. She’s Christmas tree hunting for a fir for their apartment with Katy, Farkle tagging along for the ride and trailing a bit behind them. This isn’t something his family does, personally, so he’s just having fun observing.

It’s particularly exciting for Katy and Maya this year, as it’s the first time they have the space to even get a real tree rather than use their miniature plastic fake one. Maya is buzzing with enthusiasm about it, wondering how much tree they can actually fit in their space.

Space they’re only fortunate enough to have because of the generosity of an old friend… Katy tentatively broaches the topic of how Isa is doing this holiday season. Have they managed to patch things up -- or talk at all for that matter? Maya’s mood dampens somewhat, and she side-steps answering. She doesn’t want to think about all of that. It’s the holidays, damn it! ‘Tis the damn season!

She tries her luck with Farkle instead, hanging back to chat with him. But he’s not in much better spirits. Even though he’s enjoying the tree hunt from a distance, he’s still mentally far away, mind on his conversation with Jordan about how things are with Isa. His low mood is palpable, and it just frustrates Maya more.

Maya: Jesus, is this all the holiday is now? Melancholy and blues? What happened to holly jolly and all that?

Farkle: To be fair, I think Christmas has always had a dark side. It’s got just as many “Blue Christmases” and “Merry Christmas Darlings” for every “It’s The Most Wonderful Time Of The Year.”

You and your answers, Farkle. There’s no time for facts right now! We’re in denial mode! Maya groans, claiming she’s leaving him to sulk and is going to hunt one section for trees. If they find anything glamorous, holler.

The bouncy pop tune kicks up as she marches off.

Song Cue ♫ ♪ “It’s Not Christmas Till Somebody Cries” as performed by Carly Rae Jepsen || Performed by Maya Hart

Putting a sardonic spin on the holiday, Maya breaks into this track by one of the queens of pop. The rendition is pretty straightforward, a good chance for Maya to diva as she does while walking through the rows of greenery and lights twinkle above her. She’s good at chewing up the scenery with little to no help, so delivering a good performance isn’t hard.

INT. MATTHEWS HOME - DINING ROOM - NIGHT

At the same time, we watch the Matthews argument continue muted in slow motion, the chaos feeling more humorous and theatrical in this slant. It does a good job of highlighting the ridiculousness of their bickering, honestly, much in the same way that the lyrics of the song convey the silliness of holiday drama. It’s meaningless, and doesn’t actually reflect at all on the families involved, but it feels downright inevitable. So might as well just enjoy it and get through the worst of it -- as Morgan seems equipped to do, chewing her dinner and watching the tea be spilled all around her.

But even when drama is silly, the hurt can be real. Riley is the first one to finally have enough, not as steeled as the kids who grew up in the dynamic their whole life. She’s still stinging about the Lucas comment, and makes one final muted rebuke with flushed cheeks before storming out of the dining room. Amy becomes overwhelmed by this, apologizing after her, but the tears start almost as quickly at how this has devolved. So she retreats from the table as well, classic, while Alan gets up to go after her. Josh rolls his eyes and throws his napkin down, also ditching the table.

As Maya’s vocals wind down and the performance comes to an end, Shawn shrugs his shoulders, raising his glass in mock cheers.

Shawn: Hey, it ain’t Christmas till somebody cries. Am I right?

As he knocks back his eggnog --

INT. YINDRA’S CHURCH - STORAGE - NIGHT

We’re in darkness for a long moment, until the door opens and light bleeds into the room. Charlie and Yindra are silhouetted in the doorframe until Yindra finds the light, pulling the cord to turn it on and illuminating the storage room in her church.

Charlie: If your plan is to lock me in here so I die a slow death and don’t have to perform at all, I’m not sure I’m game for that. Me of two years ago would’ve loved it, though.

Whomp. But Yindra isn’t planning his premature death. She claims they need to dig through the junk a bit to get to the good stuff. She leads the way through the classic clutter, making it to the back and landing against a rusting filing cabinet.

But the rust holds the jackpot. She pulls open the drawers and gestures for Charlie to come look -- sheet music. Folders and folders of sheet music, mainly of the holiday and gospel variety, in every genre. And although the cabinet looks like it’s ancient, the collection is kept up-to-date. Much more to choose from than Charlie’s church.

Charlie: Dang. This is epic.

Yindra: The world is your oyster, my dear. [ patting his shoulder ] Let’s find something spectacular.

Challenge accepted. Charlie starts to rifle through the file folders, Yindra searching the cramped space for the registry that has a list of all their songs. That would be a good place to start.

Yindra: We have to find something really awe-inspiring, if we’re trying to assure that Zay is going to fall in love with you.

Charlie gives her a look, not able to hold back a smirk. Little does she know the history… but he can’t argue with that. The past is not the present. The stakes are high!

INT. MATTHEWS HOME - LIVING ROOM - NIGHT

Not as high as they feel at the Matthews, though, in the aftermath of their theatrical spin-out. Eric and Morgan have convened in the living room, the least injured survivors of the bloodbath, discussing what they should do next and whether it’s worth trying to bring everyone back to the table. Eric is genuinely trying to mediate, as his counselor instincts demand, whereas Morgan seems more amused at the absolute ridiculousness of her family.

Jack is present as well, faithful by Eric’s side, but he gains an escape hatch when his phone rings. A photograph of him and Lucas lights up his screen, taken at the graduation party last May. Jack claims he better take this call, and Eric nods him along. He skirts away and exits out the French doors to the terrace.

Jack: Hello?

EXT. NYU APARTMENT - FIRE ESCAPE - NIGHT

Lucas has returned to the apartment, but followed his usual pattern of escaping to the fresh air for sanity. He’s camped out on the moderately sized fire escape just outside the back bay window, accessible by one of the windows. An upgrade from his bite-sized version back at the Friar apartment building. He tries to play off casual as he greets Jack on the other end of the line, but he’s still frazzled from the confrontation with Kenneth and the tremor in his voice gives him away.

Lucas: Just thought I’d call. How is the family reunion?

EXT. MATTHEWS HOME - TERRACE - NIGHT

Intercutting between them, Jack steps out into the chilly Philadelphia night. He doesn’t buy Lucas’s easy-breezy reasoning for calling, but he humors him for a moment.

Jack: Oh, an absolute shitshow. There’ve been about four different arguments rolled into one on the first night and everyone has dispersed to fume. I also didn’t get to finish my biscuits and gravy.

Lucas: Bummer.

Jack: Typical family nonsense, in a word. [ a beat ] Probably less stressful still than whatever you’re calling about though, I’m sure…

He does know him well. Lucas sighs, not bothering to deny it. When Jack prompts him to talk about it, it takes him a minute to get his words together, but he describes the gist of what happened with his parents. It’s not just this isolated event though -- it’s not like he hasn’t had plenty of battles with Kenneth in the last twenty years -- but the greater trend it’s a part of. The thing Lucas hasn’t been able to shake, the faux familial warmth they’re suddenly sharing around the holiday season.

Lucas: Like, I can’t get it all figured out in my head. Am I the ungrateful one? Is Kenneth finally trying to make up for lost time, doing what good he can before he fizzles out, and I’m a fucking asshole for not being able to accept it? This is… this whole routine is exactly the shit I wanted as a kid. All I wanted was for holidays to feel like this, in theory, for us to seem normal and happy and do all the stereotypical things. And now I’m finally getting it, and it’s like I can’t stomach it. Am I a shitty person because I don’t want to… I don’t know, play this game?

Jack: That would depend on who you ask. Every person would have a different reaction to this situation, a different sense of what’s right or wrong. Unfortunately, for many reasons, your dad has a powerful card to play. He’s dying, and neither of you can change that or deny its implications. But that also puts zero obligation on you to forgive and forget the past.

Lucas: … yeah? So I’m not just like irredeemably fucked up?

Jack: What he did to you for twenty years is irredeemably fucked up. It’s unfair, and likely impossible, for you to just forgive twenty years of abuse in a couple weeks. No matter how genuine it actually is. That’s going to be especially difficult for you, given your personality.

Authentic to a fault and stubborn, yes. Lucas shies away a bit from the use of “abuse,” not acknowledging it, but he doesn’t refute it either.

Lucas: Grace seems to be doing that just fine.

Jack: You and your mother are two different people. And you have two very different relationships with Kenneth. Yes, you both suffered the same pantheon of treatment, in the same household, but the nature and details of each of your circumstances are not identical. Not to mention she has a longer history with him, a whole backstory to draw on that you don’t. I’m not saying her willingness to go along with the domestic routine is right or wrong -- again, that depends on your perspective. She’s different than you. You can’t be expected to react to this experience in the same way.

He doesn’t have to, either. He should let Grace do whatever she wants, placate or pretend if that makes them feel better. That’s not his business. But it’s not his duty to join in, and he’s totally valid in his complicated feelings about it. Without a doubt, as Kenneth’s deterioration continues, it will only get more confusing and conflicted. That’s okay. He just needs to give himself the space to feel those things, whatever they are, and not punish himself for not responding in the perfect way. A perfect way doesn’t exist.

Regardless, Jack reminds him that he has a support system in place to help him process it. He’s glad he called him now, though he regrets that Lucas has to be working through all this in the first place. And he will always be there to talk through these things -- as will Eric, Riley, Dylan and Asher, etc. he’s certain. Lucas nods.

Lucas: Yeah. Yeah, okay. Thanks, Jack.

Jack: Any time.

Lucas wishes him luck with the family, and tells him to let Riley know that if she needs to vent to him, he’s around. Jack laughs and agrees, smiling as they end the call.

As Jack heads back inside, the camera pans away from him and further into the backyard… focusing on the old treehouse built into the large oak tree. A light is on, dim but still going, probably untouched for the last ten or so years until tonight.

INT. MATTHEWS TREEHOUSE - NIGHT

Riley has sought refuge in the old play place, leaning back against the far wall with her knees curled up to her chest. She was clearly crying earlier, eyes puffy and tinged red, but the tears have subsided. She’s mainly still up there to hide, to avoid any more emotional labor for as long as she can.

She stiffens up when she the creak of wood signaling someone else is climbing the ladder. She grows more stoic, not prepared to negotiate with her dad or anyone else… but she exhales in relief when Josh’s head pops up in the entrance to the house. He is maybe the one person she can stomach seeing right now.

Josh: Knock knock. Any vacancy?

Riley: No. But I suppose I can roll out a cot specifically for you.

Josh makes a face, then grunts as he pulls himself fully into the tree. He remarks how long it’s been since he last climbed up here, at least a decade.

Josh: These old bones aren’t made for this kind of exertion anymore.

As if twenty-four is the peak of the hill. Riley rolls her eyes, but he earns a smile all the same, which was his goal. He crawls over and joins her against the wall, stretching out his legs with a sigh and tilting his head back. His legs are almost long enough to reach the other end of the treehouse -- he’s definitely outgrown its shelter.

Josh: So I’m guessing from those eyes you were either crying, or you’re high. If it’s the latter, I’m offended you didn’t invite me to join. Lord knows I could use a hit right now.

Riley: [ with a chuckle ] The former, sorry.

Josh: Hurt?

Riley: More frustration. I’d have to have pretty thin skin to let comments like that actually hurt me after years of being mothered by Topanga.

Touché. Frustration is a bit more manageable than sadness, though Riley shouldn’t have to be dealing with either. Josh gives her the space to discuss it, if she wants. After a moment of silence, she speaks.

Riley: I’m just tired of it. I’m so sick of everyone getting in my business.

Josh: About Lucas?

Riley: About everything. But yes, mainly about that. [ tilting her head back ] It’s just like… everyone acts like they know what’s best for me. No one seems to believe I might know what I want better than anyone else. I get that I’m young, and I’m still learning. But I know enough to know what’s good for me.

Josh: Preaching to the choir, kid. Tell me about it.

Riley: Like even… I’m having fun at NYU. Really, I am. I’ve met some cool people, and I’m really excited about the musical I’m working on now. But I still don’t know for sure that it’s where I’m meant to be.

Josh: Really? I didn’t know that.

Riley: Not in a bad way. It’s just… sometimes I think about what would’ve happened if I’d gone to Barnard. Or gone undeclared, or chosen something different. I like performing, don’t get me wrong. But I feel like I decided to give Tisch a try because it seemed like a mistake not to, given how hard it was to get in… but also because everyone else said I should. Or acted like it was inevitable I would. Even people I love, who know me well and I know just want what’s best for me. Everyone kind of made the decision for me, so I went with it.

Josh: Do you think you’re going to stay?

Riley: I don’t know. It’s not like I’m gunning to leave or anything. But I don’t feel like oh, yes, this is my holy grail. It doesn’t feel like Zay does about Turner. But I haven’t talked much about it, because I don’t really want anyone else’s input. If I decide to switch things up, I want to do it on my own terms.

Josh can get that. Sometimes, he might feel that way about Global Beat, too, but his is sort of the opposite problem. It’s not that everyone is telling him to stay, it’s that everyone wants him to go, and so he feels like he has to dig his heels in just to hold his own ground.

Riley: Exactly. And all of this feels like, doubly frustrating with Lucas. People have been telling me how to feel about him literally since the moment I stepped foot in Adams. Eric told me the first time he mentioned him that I shouldn’t talk to him, or even look at him if I could help it. Then everyone was telling me to dump him when stuff was rough in junior year, that he wasn’t my problem and I was acting like an idiot for trying to help him -- as if letting someone in crisis just sink on their own is ever a good idea.

Josh: Agreed. Although I do agree with the idea that it’s not your job to do any of that.

Riley: I know. As I’ve said the entire time, I don’t have to do anything. I choose to help my friends because I care about them; I choose to be with Lucas because I care about him. I’m with him because I love him. But no one seems to believe that. Everyone seems to think I’m in over my head, or just going through a fad, or that I could do “better.” And they’re wrong. Sorry, they’re fucking wrong. This isn’t about whether or not Lucas is good enough for me. He is. There is no “better” than Lucas, not in my book. I don’t care about his past, or his employment, or whether he gets a degree or never goes to college. None of that means anything to me, and that doesn’t make me naive or stupid. I’m not naive. I just know what I care about, my priorities, and who he is will always matter more to me than what he has. And he’s good. That’s who he is. He’s good, and he’s mine. [ exhaling a sigh ] Now I just need everyone else to accept that, trust me, and shut the hell up.

Josh laughs, nodding along. Honestly, he admires Riley’s certainty -- nothing about her delivery there gave him any sense that she doesn’t know what she’s talking about.

Josh: To be honest, I wish I had more of that. The certainty.

Riley: Don’t you? I thought you liked what you do.

Josh: I do. The music part of it. I like finding talent, finding the right mix, creating something that gets shared with the world. Music has always been my heart -- that’s what I care about, to use your phrasing. But am I going about it the right way? Is Global Beat, doing this junior prod thing, what I’m supposed to be doing? I don’t know. I don’t know that I can ever know, with the nature of my job. And I wish it was easier, so that I could have the conviction to get people to shut the hell up, but I don’t. Which is probably why I get so defensive. Feels like I have to compensate extra hard, act like I know with conviction, to cover for the small parts of me that don’t.

Suffice to say, both of them are in periods of transition right now. Such is the way of being in your (almost) twenties. Riley assures Josh that she’ll continue to support him no matter which pathway he takes, and she hopes that whatever he does always remains true to the good she knows he has in him too. Josh smiles, returning the sentiment and giving her an elbow nudge.

INT. SHOPPING MALL - NIGHT

Nigel is looking for some certainty, too, though he likely isn’t going to find it. He’s out shopping with Jade, still trying to figure out what to get Riley. He basically vetoes every idea he starts to form, way in his head about it, which is why Jade has stepped in to help. She can tell he’s stressed, although she has more context as to why than anyone else.

Jade: I don’t think you need to put so much stake in this. The perfect gift isn’t going to assuage your guilt, nor is a lackluster one going to blow it all up.

Nigel: I know. I know that. I just… I want it to mean something. I’ve been so shit this semester to Riley, and I want her to know I care. That I appreciate being her friend. They don’t exactly make greeting cards that say all that.

Jade: Well, I’m sure you could request Dylan and Asher custom make you one. You know Dylan loves any excuse to use his glitter gun.

Nigel makes a face, causing Jade to laugh. She steps closer and takes his hand, reassuring him that it’s going to be fine. He just needs to trust himself again, to follow his instincts and get something from his heart. Riley can sense stuff like that; Jade is sure she’ll get it from whatever he chooses to pull together.

Jade: That’s all Riley is going to care about, anyway -- that you took the time and thought to get something, and that it evidently came from the heart. [ patting his chest ] You just need to give it a little more credit.

It might be a bit scraped up after this semester, but it’s still good in there. Jade gives him an affectionate smile and kiss on the cheek, then caresses his face before walking ahead of him. Nigel lets the advice sink in, trying to take it to heart.

As he follows her out…

INT. SHOPPING CENTER - LATER - DAY

A time-lapse unfolds to let night pass into day, then evening again, showing the mad rush of shoppers coming in and out for the holidays.

INT. SHOPPING CENTER - NIGHT

Time slows again, and we find Isa exiting one of the stores, having purchased a small gift for the wrap party at Chelsea’s they’re on their way to. They pause to respond to a text in the roommate group chat that they won’t be able to make the thing they’re all going to tonight, but they’ll catch them at the apartment later.

Time to go. Isa takes a deep breath, squaring their socializing shoulders and marching off --

EXT. CHELSEA’S HOME - NIGHT

And arriving at the doorstep of Chelsea, a cute little condo in Soho. Chelsea greets them cheerfully, looking especially quirky and festive in her sparkly sweater, and ushers them in to join the party.

INT. CHELSEA’S HOME - NIGHT

The wrap party goes well to start, Chelsea enthusiastically chatting up the guests while Isa finds where to settle. Thankfully, it’s not a crowd of strangers, as many of them are people who were involved in the short film. Even so, Isa finds they’re most comfortable sticking with the other students who worked on it, particularly since they actually have topics they can discuss. When Isa mentions they have suffered through having Bennet as their professor all semester, the upperclassmen react accordingly.

Senior Student: Oh man, Mr. B. That guy’s a tough cookie.

Junior: So fucking true.

Isa: Great, I’m glad it’s not just me. Did you guys hate the course as much as I feel like I am right now?

Junior: Hate it? No way dude, I loved it!

Now Isa is totally lost. As the upperclassmen go on to explain, Bennet is a hardass, but he really genuinely cares about the work. He knows what he’s talking about, and he doesn’t give anybody special treatment -- no matter who you are. He can be blunt and hard to read, but he never does anything with ill intent. That’s a major gold star in this industry.

Senior: He gave me some of the best advice I ever got during my career at NYU during my sophomore year. About my focus, where my head was at, what I was trying to accomplish. He read me like a fucking book, and yeah, at the time I didn’t want to hear it. But he was so right. I tell him that all the time now, though he never takes the credit for it.

Oh boy… could it be… Bennet doesn’t suck? Maybe he has been right? That’s a disturbing thought, one Isa isn’t sure they’re ready to process.

And it’s about to get even tougher. As the upperclassmen continue to chat, Isa starts to realize something -- they seem connected. They’ve got a famous uncle, or successful in-law, someone who adds credibility to their name. Regardless of whether or not they’re talented and friendly, which Isa thinks they are, those details of their identity start to creep up more and more.

With a sinking feeling in their gut, Isa excuses themselves, and goes to seek out Chelsea again. She spots her mixing and mingling with some fellow young creatives, the slightest bit tipsy from the eggnog. She greets Isa cheerfully when they approach, putting an arm on their shoulders and showing them off to her friends.

Chelsea: You’ll never guess who her mom is. Seriously, take a guess!

That’s the first thing out of Chelsea’s mouth when introducing them. When the inhibitions are lowered, when they’re no longer in the classroom, that’s how she sees Isa. Not as a budding director, not as their own person. Just Valerie De La Cruz’s child.

Exactly what they’d been running from all semester.

Highly uncomfortable, Isa peels away from Chelsea’s clutches and lies, claiming they’re getting some air. They make a beeline for the front door, rushing to escape this showboat soiree as fast as possible. Chelsea smiles at her circle of friends.

Chelsea: Mentor of Valerie De La Cruz’s kid. Pretty swanky, huh?

INT. CHARLIE’S CHURCH - NIGHT

Speaking of women who view the next generation as clout… ELEANOR GARDNER is in top form as she chats with members of the church in between performances at the Christmas show. She passes for humble as she fields compliments left and right, applauding yet another lovely evening. How does she do it? Oh, and everyone is so excited for Charlie’s grand return to the sanctuary stage.

Danielle: Will he be doing “O Holy Night” again? That gets me choked up every time!

We’ll just have to wait and see! The only one who doesn’t seem positively joyful is Rosie, who is still stressfully attempting to gin up enthusiasm for her caroling fundraiser. Every person she tells about it with a plastered on smile assures her they’ll try to attend, but she knows most people in this church don’t mean a word that comes out of their mouths. And she can’t blame them -- if it wasn’t her reputation on the line, she wouldn’t want to go to this stupid fundraiser either!

Her evening is about to get a little bit better though. Ripples run through the crowd at Bridgette’s arrival through the doors, not as calamitous a wave as it may have caused prior to her appearance at Charlie’s graduation, but a murmur or two all the same. MAITLAND and TRINA immediately turn to point her out to Eleanor, whose warm and cheery persona grows a little colder. DANIELLE audibly gasps.

Rosie, on the other hand, is thrilled. She rushes through the pews and comes to greet her sister, giving her a hug and claiming she had no idea she was coming.

Bridgette: Neither did I. You know our brother can be surprisingly persuasive.

Ain’t that the truth. After a moment, AMBROSE GARDNER saunters over to join them, awkwardly but kindly greeting Bridgette. They don’t hug or anything -- haven’t quite broken down that barrier -- but Ambrose states it’s good to see her. Especially this time of year. Bridgette nods.

Eleanor should count her blessings, though, because Bridgette is about to be the least of her worries. A whole new gang has rolled up to crash the party -- Riley, Zay, and the entire crew have turned up to support Charlie, making good on their invite. It’s quite the spectacle, this crop of colorful, queer, quirky misfits descending on the saltine sanctuary in their holiday best.

Most of the churchgoers don’t seem to know how to respond -- Eleanor has gone speechless -- but what are they gonna do? Turn them away? So Riley and friends go unstopped through the pews until they file into an empty one and take up the row. Dylan smiles and cheerfully greets others as he goes, not the least bit shy at imposing on their soiree.

Trina: [ to Eleanor ] Did Riley come to support Charlie? That’s so sweet.

Maitland: Wife material, definitely.

Danielle: [ faux pleasant ] And she brought… friends.

She sure did. Riley seems much more happy here, in this unforgiving chapel with her band of misfits, than she did suffering through familial awkwardness in Philadelphia. This family has never been difficult to be around, once she found it.

Charlie seems to agree. He peers out from backstage and grins when he sees them all assembled in the crowd, bright spots of color against the more demure landscape of his usual church community. He takes that as his cue to get moving, taking to the stage and heading towards the microphone. In a pew a few rows behind Riley and company, JOHN DUFFY eagerly starts applause.

Charlie’s smile grows bashful and he sheepishly waves off the premature praise, his smile only growing brighter when he spots Bridgette in attendance with Rosie and Ambrose. He clears his throat, adjusting the microphone to his height.

Charlie: Hi church. [ waiting for their attention ] Wow, it’s really good to see everyone. Thank you so much for being here. Old friends and new. I think it feels equally good this year, because as you may or may not know, I’ve been out of town for a little bit. Actually, I figure you probably do know, because if I know my mom, I’m sure she didn’t let anyone forget it.

The congregation chuckles at this, smiles being tossed Eleanor’s way. She reacts in stride, shrugging her shoulders coyly. Zay and Riley exchange knowing looks, trying not to laugh for their own reasons.

Charlie: I’m looking forward to catching up with everyone, and I’m sure you all have a lot of questions for me. About what I did, what I saw, how I spent those six months I was away. Or maybe you don’t, that’s fine too. But one takeaway I wanted to share is how much beauty there is out there in the world. Everywhere you look. This time of year always makes me think about that even more, how lovely a world we get to share in this place God created for us. That I try to appreciate every day, lest I forget how much of a miracle that gift is. To be here, experiencing it all.  [ a beat ] But going far away to see it all also made me realize just how much of it there is right here at home. In this place, with these people. There’s beauty in just about everything if you really pay attention, if you take the time to look. And I realized that I shouldn’t be making it harder for anyone to find more of that beauty -- to see it in me. I’m looking forward to living more authentically, more beautifully, I hope, now that I’m back. To give back just a fraction of what I’m getting. Hopefully letting more of my inner beauty, if you will, shine outward to be shared with the world.

Long story short, he wants to start giving more of his authentic self, and whether that’s beautiful or not is up to them. But we can see he’s already begun that transition -- his wardrobe for his performance is bolder than his usual church fare, a deep red turtleneck sweater paired with a sharp suit jacket. The red is an especially new flavor for him… and conveniently goes well with the new ring he’s currently sporting on his finger, inconspicuously included with the rest of his usual ones.

And he’s carrying that same energy through with his song choice, which he notes he’s employed his friends from the church choir to help him out with. It’s a bit snazzier than his usual repertoire, but it feels like him, and he hopes it still instills in all of them a little more holiday cheer.

With that, he nods to the small band, teeing up the song and initiating the new era of Charlie Gardner.

Song Cue ♫ ♪ “Lead Me With Your Light” as performed by Tess Henley || Performed by Charlie Gardner

This isn’t your typical Christmas fare, not the song you’d hear on the radio or from the carolers out on the street. But that’s perfectly fitting for Charlie, who has never exactly been Top 40. He’s channeling a bit of that Frank Sinatra through -- it’s jazzy, a little funky, a sleeper hit just like him. And it’s guaranteed more fun than anything his church has seen in years, totally rejuvenating the energy in the sanctuary.

Against all odds, the risky deviation from the norm seems to go over well with the congregation too. It’s the kind of groove you can’t help but get sucked into, and Charlie’s vocals are in peak form when infused with the joyful life in the piece. AGATHA DUFFY lets John sway her playfully along to the music with their baby nestled in between them; Rosie has her arm around Bridgette and is bouncing along with her. Even Eleanor can enjoy it, considering it’s playing so well, looking on proudly and doing her usual faux humble reaction as people turn to her to gauge her response.

No one is enjoying it more than his friends, though. Yindra grooves along familiarly, mouthing along with the words, Jade and Nigel smiling beside her. Dylan and Asher are having a grand old time, dancing along even though they clearly do not know the words. Even Maya is mildly impressed. Finally, some pizazz! Lucas seems to be receptive to it, too, Riley grinning proudly next to him. Zay just seems amazed, but it’s hard to tell if that’s because of how unapologetically vibrant the performance is, in his church no less, or because of… other feelings.

Either way, Charlie is glad they’re having fun, because this performance is really for them. They’re the true audience, the ones who really know him, who know how much work it took to get here. It’s not just a bouncy tune; it’s a rebirth. Charlie is reintroducing himself, no holds barred this time, and this is only the beginning.

Thus, it’s only fitting that they’re the first to jump up when the true hype begins. When Charlie hits the bridge at two-and-a-half minutes in, he pulls the microphone off the stand and breaks free, getting into the groove and trying to pull the congregation into it. Riley and Zay both don’t hesitate, cracking up as they race to beat each other in jumping to their feet and starting the clap along to the beat. The rest of the group doesn’t take long to follow their lead, and it’s only a matter of time before everyone is on their feet.

Charlie tosses them a smile and wink before descending down the steps and into the aisles, getting everyone to sing along to the bridge’s refrain. He belts out the big note with skill when he reaches the back of the house, showing off his range for once, then makes an energized dash back through the pews to the front to hop back onto the stage for the final run of the chorus.

Now everyone is into it, energy high as Charlie cascades through the last notes. He’s having fun with it, improvising some runs and doing little dance moves as he does one more lap across the stage, arriving back front and center just in time to deliver the final, powerhouse “star shine...”

Then he tosses off the final notes, spinning and returning back behind the microphone stand. He puts the mic back in place and descends into a bow as the orchestration tumbles into its conclusion. When he gets back upright, he’s greeted by thunderous applause, more genuine acclaim from this community than he’s ever received.

And how wonderful it is, that it’s because he was purely himself. His beam is impossibly bright as he accepts the applause, mouthing thank you and bowing his head.

EXT. JACK AND ERIC’S PLACE - NIGHT

Isa makes it back to Eric’s townhome, inhaling a deep breath and doing their best not to get overwhelmed. They hug their coat closer around themselves and close their eyes.

They don’t understand anything. The whole time, they thought Chelsea was their ally, because she was so hip and charming and tuned in. She seemed to get Isa, was so supportive of their quirks and puffing up their confidence. But that’s all it was -- puffing up. Hot air. No matter how nice she was, it appears Chelsea only ever viewed Isa as their last name.

They wonder if it’ll ever get easier, constantly being defined by their mother’s name.

Hands shaking, Isa gets out their phone. They need to talk to someone. Without thinking, they dial the first number they can think of, the only person who they think would understand this feeling.

INT. MACNAMARA HOME - LIVING ROOM - NIGHT

ZACHARY MACNAMARA is watching a movie with his family, his sons just out of frame on the floor. When his phone buzzes, RUBY MACNAMARA shoots him a side-eye -- really? During movie night? -- and he apologizes, going to silence the call.

But he stops still when he sees who it is. He didn’t expect Isa to start calling him out of the blue. Their scheduled chats have been great, but they never discussed what the next steps of comfort might look like. Ruby glances at the screen over his shoulder, raising her eyebrows as well.

They exchange a tacit look. Better take it. Ruby nods for him to go on, Zachary patting her hand in thanks as he gets to his feet and escapes the room.

INT. MCNAMARA HOME - ENTRYWAY - NIGHT

Zachary picks up the call, still speaking softly.

Zachary: Hello?

EXT. JACK AND ERIC’S PLACE - NIGHT

Even though they initiated the call, Isa seems surprised that Zachary actually picked up. They clear their throat.

Isa: Um. Hi. I’m not… you’re not busy, are you?

The conversation continues intercut between them. Zachary glances over his shoulder towards the living room, then shakes his head.

Zachary: No. No, I’ve got a few minutes. Everything okay?

Isa: I just had a weird… I really need to talk about something. If that’s okay.

Zachary: I’m all ears. What’s going on?

It was that easy, huh… weird, being able to be vulnerable with someone like this. Someone new. But suppose that’s family, purportedly…

Isa takes a deep breath, clearing their head before they start to explain.

INT. SVORSKI’S COFFEE - DAY

The afternoon of the holiday party, Yindra makes her way into Svorski’s to grab a pick-me-up. Who should she run into but Zay and Vanessa, just wrapping up a coffee date.

Yindra: Fancy seeing you here.

Zay: Desperate for coffee today?

Yindra: Are you kidding? I’m gonna need hella caffeine to get through tonight. Don’t know if you remember this, but our classmates are freaks. Also, I can’t believe you went somewhere and didn’t invite me. You realize you’re my social life, right?

Zay: When do you go back to L.A. again? Having you and Nigel here full-time again is too much for me.

Yindra makes a face, then realizes Vanessa is standing there and must be with Zay. She apologizes, extending a hand to introduce herself.

Yindra: My bad, I didn’t assume you two were here together. I just figure we’re Zay’s only friends.

Zay: Um.

Vanessa: No worries. And actually, we’ve met before. I was on the Quincy team during fitness week when you all came to our class.

Yindra: [ with a gasp ] Oh my God, yeah. Okay, I take back my apology and warm welcome.

Vanessa: I get that a lot.

The barbs are playful, more banter than anything. High school rivalries feel like such old drama these days. Yindra does point out though that it’s kind of hilarious she and Zay are hanging out together -- he is so stubborn and never lets grudges go.

Yindra: Actually, I’m kind of shocked. Pretty sure earlier this semester he mentioned you were plotting his murder.

Zay, quickly: I didn’t say it like that.

Yindra: You said it word-for-word exactly like that.

Vanessa: That’s okay, he’s not wrong. The jury is still out. I’m holding my cards close to the vest.

Yindra: Ah, yes. Wise. Keep your friends close…

Zay, interrupting: Yeah, yeah, yeah. Well, considering we’re seeing each other, think she’d be taking that adage a bit too literally.

Oh, there it is. Vanessa grows a bit sheepish, not sure how that information is going to go over. But Yindra doesn’t react poorly -- at least, not at first. At first, it’s just an unexpected but neutral surprise.

Yindra, brightly: Oh!

Then, she remembers. That big thing she learned on the road. That thing she’s been encouraging since they got back.

Yindra, foreboding: [ expression dropping ] Oh…

All the above happens in the span of a second or two. Vanessa watches her, uncertain; Zay gives her a puzzled look.

Zay: You good?

Yindra: [ remembering they’re there ] Mm? Oh, yeah, yeah, no. Yeah, I’m -- no it’s all good. I was just -- I had a thought. But it’s fine. I’ll handle it later.

Zay: [ to Vanessa ] You notice she said our friends are freaks? Birds of a feather.

Yindra swats at him, then insists she has to run. But she’ll see him at Riley’s thing tonight, and likely see Vanessa around sooner rather than later since Manhattan is the smallest town on Earth. Before she goes, she offers some parting words of wisdom.

Yindra: Nice to meet you outside the toxic walls of Quincy. By the way, you’re way too hot for him, but that’s none of my business.

Zay, flatly: Thank you, Yindra.

She gives him a wink and then dashes, leaving the shop without ordering anything. Vanessa exchanges a look with Zay, a bit amused.

Vanessa: Didn’t she want caffeine?

EXT. MATTHEWS HOME - BACK PORCH

Eric is out on the steps of his back porch, taking in the cool Philly afternoon air and looking reminiscently at his childhood backyard. The screen door opens behind him, and moments later Jack joins him, grunting as he crouches down to settle onto the step.

Jack: Getting up and down is a chore these days. Are we getting old, Eric?

Eric: Maybe. I think it feels more pronounced when you wake up in what used to be your childhood bedroom.

True that. They actually have the leeway to make such claims though, unlike Josh. They sit in silence for a few moments.

Eric: You know, my elementary school principal used to live in that house right there.

Jack: No way. Next door neighbors with your administrator?

Eric: Yep. And oh, he hated it, I know. Especially since we were menaces. Mainly Cory. [ off his chuckle ] Wonder what he’d think of me today, ending up as a principal. Not sure he’d believe it. I’m not sure I believe it still.

Jack: It takes a couple years to sink in. [ looking around ] It’s a nice neighborhood. Seems like a nice place to grow up.

Eric: It was.

In spite of it all… even though his family is dramatic, and imperfect, Eric knows he’s lucky. He came out okay, and it could’ve been worse. Although their level of theatrics is still embarrassing…

Eric: So. You’ve had the true Matthews experience now. Ready to break up with me?

Jack: Well… [ off his side-eye, with a smile ] Not a chance. You thought this was a lot? Just wait ‘til you meet my mom. Then we’ll have notes to compare.

But in short, no. He’s not fazed. They’re quirky, sure, but nothing he can’t handle. The two of them have faced far more daunting challenges in their partnership. Jack takes his hand and rests it on his knee, waiting for him to meet his eyes.

Jack: I’ve come to learn that so long as I’ve got my trusty counselor-turned-principal in my corner, anything is possible. For better or worse, I’m in this for the long haul. Long as you’ll have me.

So he need not worry. They’re good. He’s his. Jack leans forward to give him a soft kiss, which Eric accepts with a smile.

They’re interrupted when Amy pokes her head out, apologizing for intruding but wondering if one of them would be willing to help her in the kitchen. Jack cheerfully agrees, giving Eric a wink before getting back to his feet and following Amy back into the house.

Eric watches him go, smile still lingering on his lips. The twinkle of an idea is forming in his eyes…

INT. CHUBBIES - NIGHT

The holiday gift exchange is almost underway! Most of the attendees -- Zay, Nigel, Jade, Maya, Charlie, Lucas, Isa, Dylan, and Asher -- are in attendance, milling around their corner of Chubbies and chatting idly while a holiday playlist plays on the sound system. Farkle makes his way in and comes to join Riley by the counter, apologizing for running late and handing over his gift. She tells him not to worry, happily taking his present and contributing it to the proper place in her elaborate set up.

Yindra enters last but not least, Riley cheerfully proclaiming that she was the last one they were waiting for so they can nearly get started. Yindra hands over her gift with a smile and then quickly spins to scan the room, finding Charlie nearby and pulling him to the side. Her smile has evaporated.

Yindra: I really need to talk to you.

Charlie frowns, understandably concerned by her tone.

Charlie: Is everything okay?

Yindra: No, no yeah. Everything is -- like, things are fine. Objectively. It’s just, I recently learned something that I think is very important for you to --

Before Yindra can finish, Riley slides up to join them. She lovingly but firmly insists that they go mix and mingle with others, not to mention the gift exchange is about to start.

Riley: You had two whole weeks with each other on the road already. It’s great that you’re besties now, but you’ve got to share the wealth a little with everyone else!

Yindra: Okay, sure, it’s just that I really have to --

Riley isn’t hearing it. They can bestie it up later! She shakes her head playfully at Yindra and pulls Charlie away, who gives her an apologetic shrug. Maybe later?

That would be fine, if this didn’t feel like a dangerous thing to leave unsaid until later. Yindra nods to herself, trying to keep it chill.

Yindra: Cool. Cool, cool, cool, that’s fine. That’s chill. It’s all good.

Man, being in the know about things sucks!

Riley returns to the center of the room and steps onto one of the chairs, trying to get everyone’s attention. When that doesn’t work, Dylan reaches for a glass and silverware to knock it daintily the way people in old movies do, but that doesn’t do much considering the drinkware is made of plastic. Finally, Lucas rolls his eyes from behind the counter and wolf-whistles, which earns disgruntled commentary from everyone at the pitch but does succeed in getting them to shut up.

Riley: [ to Lucas ] Thank you. [ off his nod ] First, let me just say it is so wonderful and exciting and fill in all the synonyms here to see all of you and have all my favorite people back in the same place. Trying not to be too mushy about it, but I am failing.

Zay: Riley Matthews, we love you!

Everyone claps and cheers along, causing her to blush. She waves them off and redirects, jumping to the fun part of all this -- the gift exchange!

Riley: Thank you everyone for being good sports and taking the spirit of this in stride. There’s not really a surefire organized way to go about this with a group as large as ours, but I’ve tried my best. I’ve set out each gift on a table -- they’re easily identifiable by giftee, so you shouldn’t have any trouble finding yours. Once you get there, feel free to open it up and enjoy all the wonder of whatever you’ve received. Then, after about five minutes, I’m going to set the dogs loose and you can all convene to reveal who your secret snowflake was. Sound good?

Five minutes will probably be more like two, but close enough. Once everyone has caught on, they disperse to scan for their gifts, scattering throughout the diner. Lucas comes around to help Riley down from the chair by her waist, which she thanks him for with a kiss on the cheek.

Nigel is one of the first to find his, a plain evergreen envelope with his name printed on it. Understated, and not very indicative of what might be inside… he takes the plunge and opens the sleeve. Inside, he retrieves a couple of items -- a gift card to one of his favorite bookstores, and two tickets to an Emerald City Lounge exclusive Q&A with performers from the current stage production of Richard III on Broadway. Not a bad haul! Nigel smiles, pleased with it.

He doesn’t have to wait too long to see who gave it to him. Maya just can’t resist catching his reaction, leaning around the adjacent booth.

Maya: So? What do we think?

Nigel: You put this together?

Maya: I had a bit of help in the form of one Yindra Amino, who recommended the bookstore. I figured a gift card was the kinder move, as I wouldn’t pretend to know which nerdy edition of what Shakespeare snoozefest you’d want me to get.

Nigel: That’s fair.

Maya: But the Q&A was all me. I usually skim the Minkus’ subscription newsletter to see what’s coming up and that was a no-brainer. Some assistance from my connections in Hollywood helped me score them; a diva knows when to delegate to get the job done.

All in all, it’s a thoughtful gift, and one Nigel will certainly enjoy. He thanks her, then admits that it’s weird to be thanking her. She flips her hair off her shoulder.

Maya: The whole world will eventually. But you’re welcome.

In spite of Asher’s apparent lack of assistance, Zay seems to have pulled a winner together for Dylan. He’s gleefully unpacking his hodge-podge of stocking-stuffer type gifts from a vintage thrifted Spongebob fanny pack -- ring pops, gel pens, a rainbow pinwheel. When Zay reveals himself as the sender, he explains his methodology.

Zay: I just walked the aisles of the Dollar Tree and picked up anything that screamed whimsy and gave me that same slight headache between my eyes that I get from too much direct sunlight.

Dylan: [ putting his hand to his chest ] You get me.

Apparently so. Behind them, another trio of exchanges is occurring together. Isa receives their gift from Asher (a new sketchbook for storyboarding, a high quality type Asher would know well, along with assorted snacks he knows they like) while Asher gets one from Jade -- an easy one, considering they’re best friends. In fact, Asher knows immediately that Jade is the gifter, because he cracks up at one of the items that is very clearly an inside joke with a long history between them. It makes Jade instantly laugh too.

Yindra opens hers, retrieving a handful of items collected together in a nice Beyoncé tote bag. Similar to Asher, she knows who gave it to her instantly, because all of the items are stuff she definitely likes… and talked about semi-recently. She lifts her gaze and meets Charlie’s eyes across the room.

He was definitely listening to all that talking they did on the road -- enough to put together the perfect gift. He gives her a wink, which she accepts with a wide smile.

Charlie turns his attention back to his gift, which he’s just finished unwrapping with care. The first item is straightforward, which he can appreciate, a new and simple planner. He’ll definitely get use out of it given his impending return to academia.

The other item in the wrapping is a little more… eclectic. It’s a little pad of papers, like sticky notes, only it’s also a dead giveaway to who must have given him the stuff.

It’s a Chubbies receipt pad. Like, the kind waiters use to jot down orders. Charlie stares at it, not sure what he’s supposed to do with it. But he does a valiant effort of trying to look not confused and very happy with it when Lucas saunters over, not wanting to make him feel bad for not getting it.

Lucas: Surprise. Or whatever.

Charlie: Hey. Thanks for putting this together, it’s great. The planner is gonna come in handy this coming year when I’m trying to get my life together for sure.

Lucas: Yeah, admittedly, Riley helped with that suggestion. Sorry you got stuck with me. [ off his dismissive hand wave ] What about the other part?

Charlie: … the other part of the gift? This one?

Lucas: Yeah. What did you think of that?

Oh so we’re not going to be able to just brush past this then… Charlie clears his throat, giving the most genuine enthusiasm he can muster.

Charlie: Oh, it’s -- it’s great! So cool. Very cool to have bonafide Chubbies paraphernalia. [ a beat ] And you know how I love… lists…

This is just painful. But also hilarious. Lucas does his best not to laugh, letting the awkwardness marinate for a second longer before he gives him a hint.

Lucas: It’s on the back side.

Charlie blinks, then flips the pad over. Lo and behold, there’s more to discover -- the back slip has a note written on it in Lucas’s scrawl, with a date and time in the top right corner.

“Speaker: Zay, to Riley Gist: ‘and I was like shit, I wish Charlie were here, he would know exactly what type of tree in Central Park this is’”

Charlie smiles at the message, since it’s funny, but the meaning of it hasn’t dawned on him yet. Still a bit confused, he tentatively flips to the next sheet… where there’s another entry. A different day, a different time, new notes.

“Speaker: Jack Gist: talked about how great a student Charlie was during conversation about current classes at AAA. wished more students could be like him, academically and socially”

And another one.

“Speaker: Bean + Jake (AAA freshmen) Gist: overheard them talking about how Harper started lessons on dance and remarked on Charlie’s talent and skill for teaching others”

It goes on like this for pages and pages of the receipts. On the back of each one, Lucas took the time to jot down any time he heard someone in their friend group or community talk about Charlie while he was away. The fact that it could fill a whole receipt book goes to show just how often everyone was thinking of him, how much he was missed and the impact he left behind even in the most passing ways.

Lucas: To be frank, I’m pretty shit at giving gifts. When I joined the secret gift thing, and I picked a name…

INT. CHUBBIES - FLASHBACK - DAY

Lucas gets the message on his phone, informing him of his fate. He’s giving a gift to Charlie.

He doesn’t react much. He simply lifts his head and sighs, resigned.

INT. CHUBBIES - NIGHT

Lucas shrugs.

Lucas: I mainly felt bad for you, because I have no idea what to get people. Ever. So I wracked my brain on it for days, getting nowhere, until I started to realize people talked about you a lot. Like, all the time. And since I’m stuck in this hell all the time, I was always overhearing it. So I thought… I don’t know, I’d just start writing it down. So you could see it when you got back.

He gifted him the intangible -- proof that he’s loved. Proof of his value, of the way he’s touched his friends, his community. That even when he’s gone, he’s not forgotten.

Lucas will never know just how wonderful a gift that is. Charlie is choked up, flipping through the booklet again and unable to believe there’s that many notes. He clears his throat, letting out a bashful laugh.

Charlie: It’s great. It’s seriously, seriously perfect. [ meeting his eyes ] Thank you, Lucas. Merry Christmas.

Lucas offers a light smile, nodding with just a touch of awkwardness.

At her table, Maya is preparing herself to open her gift. She’s leveling her expectations for disappointment, because she is notoriously hard to please… but somehow, it’s a masterful assembly of items. It’s got everything -- a bit of beauty and glamor, a bit of music, some plain cold hard cash in the form of an American Express gift card. It’s the perfect gift for her.

After gleefully going through it all, she eagerly scans the room to figure out who could’ve possibly gotten her something this well-curated. Her assumption is it must be Farkle, because who else would know her well enough…

But no. She’s absolutely stunned with Dylan of all people comes and plops down in the chair opposite her, smile bright on his face.

Maya: You’ve got to be kidding me.

Dylan: By trade, usually. But not this time. Merry Christmas, beauty queen.

Maya shakes her head. How is this possible?

Dylan: Well, Riley sent me the link to sign up for the gift exchange, and then I pulled a name --

Maya: No, I mean, how did you put this together? This is an incredible gift.

Dylan: Thank you. And you’re welcome.

Maya: So how could you have made it for me? I’m positive you weren’t thrilled when you pulled that name and got mine.

Dylan pauses, thinking back on it --

INT. ASHER’S DORM ROOM - FLASHBACK - NIGHT

In the aftermath of drawing Maya’s name, Dylan actually doesn’t seem bothered. He’s thoughtful, kind of chuckling to himself, already brainstorming how he’s going to play this. Asher, on the other hand, is downright livid, pacing behind him and rambling about how messed up this is and that he should ask Riley for a partner swap, because no one should have to be saddled with picking a gift for Maya Penelope Hart.

INT. CHUBBIES - NIGHT

Dylan shrugs his shoulders coyly, enjoying the lowkey drama of it all.

Dylan: I never complain in the face of holiday cheer. I’m more than happy to spread it like the plague.

In terms of pulling the gift together, it helps that Dylan is observant about others and Maya has never been shy about sharing her opinions, loudly, about just about everything. But in full disclosure, he had help.

Dylan: I got the obvious stuff, but Isa was great at narrowing down the details.

Maya: … Isa?

Dylan: Yeah. When I was stumped, I’d just go to them and they’d know exactly what it needed. So you have them to thank for a chunk of that award-winning gift.

Maya blinks, looking down at the gift in a new light. Man, the way you never forget some things about your friends, no matter how long it’s been or how far you’ve drifted apart… she lets her gaze drift across the room, where Isa is in conversation with Jade and Asher about their gift exchange.

Farkle is about to open his, but he gets distracted by noticing Zay has already torn open his. Not wanting to miss the moment, he pauses on his own reception and goes to join Zay at his table, gauging his reaction as he pulls the items out of the hat box they’re stored in. It’s a good haul -- a nice and stylish dress shirt that actually matches Zay’s tastes, a new and better pair of headphones to use while dancing, and a pair of tickets to Hadestown.

Zay: Can’t say I’m surprised to see you sitting there with that smug grin. You are the only one who could afford to put a package together like this. Well, or Isa, but I know they don’t know me well enough to compile all this.

Farkle: Does that mean you like it? And are you admitting that I actually know you?

Zay shrugs, not committing to that confession either way… but he does soften and offer Farkle a smile. He thanks him for the gift sincerely, at least admitting that it has been nice having him back in town.

Farkle: Thanks. It’s been nice to be back. And I’m glad you like the gift. I don’t know if you knew this, but your approval has always meant a lot to me. I’m very grateful to get to call you a friend, even if I didn’t always deserve it.

They still don’t do sentimental all that easily, but the moment is sweet. Zay nods, accepting the kind words, before backing off the emotion a bit to focus back on the gift. He remarks that he’s especially impressed by Farkle’s ability to pick something that he would actually wear, holding up the shirt to get a better look. Farkle beams, pleased.

Zay: For real, it’s a fresh look. Not to be like I didn’t know you had it in you, but you literally wore blazers unironically to school for like two years.

Farkle: You got me there.

Zay: What can I say? You keep exceeding my expectations this break it seems. What mind-blowing thing are you gonna reveal next? Did you get the lead role in Hamilton in Los Angeles and have a one-off hook up with, I don’t know, Harry Styles?

Not quite, but you’re onto something, Zay! Farkle is spared having to respond (and likely flubbing it) by a text coming in on his phone. It’s from Jordan, asking where he is. Farkle is a bit confused, but types out a response, the pause in conversation earning curiosity from Zay.

Zay: Everything okay?

Farkle: Huh? Oh, yeah. Just my boyfriend.

Zay: It couldn’t wait five minutes? Surely talking to yours truly is reason enough to have your undivided attention.

Farkle: Yeah, it’s just -- he was asking where I was. So I didn’t want to leave him hanging.

Zay: Right… does he always ask where you are? Or expect you to answer that fast?

Farkle: Not really. It takes five seconds, so. Plus I mentioned this party earlier in the week, so he’s probably just checking that I made it here okay. I wouldn’t call it a pattern or anything. It’s nice, you know, having someone care enough to wonder what I’m up to.

That’s one way to look at it. Zay doesn’t seem to share that perspective.

Back by the counter, Riley takes a break from her hostessing and watching everyone else enjoy her social masterminding to open her gift. It’s neatly wrapped in shiny wrapping paper with a pretty purple ribbon, which she takes care to delicately remove as to not ruin it. Once she opens the box, she retrieves a handful of items from inside -- the Waitress cookbook, a set of socks in shades of purple with cats on them, and an envelope containing a couple of coupons for a nice spa.

It’s a sweet gift, and Riley is clearly happy with it. She grows even more cheery when the gifter is revealed, Nigel shyly sauntering over to join her. She thanks him for the thought and effort he put into it.

Riley: These socks are adorable, and I can’t wait to dive into this cookbook. Dylan and I can probably try a couple before he goes back to Rochester to break it in. I’m so curious about the spa idea, how did you come up with that?

Nigel: My mom recommended it -- one of her friends works there and was able to get her the coupons. They have really good reviews. I just thought, given all the energy and effort you put into taking care of the rest of us and keeping this train on the tracks, you deserved some time to take care of yourself too.

Riley tilts her head, genuinely touched. She holds the envelope to her chest. Nigel grows a bit more nervous but powers through to say what he wants to say, trying to convey to her just how grateful he is for her friendship.

Nigel: I know I haven’t exactly been super social this semester, or made a point of showing it --

Riley: Don’t apologize. It’s been a weird time, adjusting and everything.

Nigel: Maybe. But I just really want you to know how much I value your friendship. You’re one of a kind, Riley, and I am very, very lucky to be your friend. I’m trying not to take that for granted. Thank you for letting me into your world.

Riley’s eyes get glossy, and she insists she’s not going to cry. She reaches out for a hug instead, which Nigel accepts, returning the embrace tightly. Really putting his heart into the hug, hoping it’ll translate his gratitude and make up for all of the bad choices he made this semester behind her back. He can’t change the past, but he can be present in the present.

Now that the gift portion of the evening has started to wane, Dylan and Asher have regrouped in a booth together, sharing what they received in the gift exchange. Which is the perfect place for Charlie to catch them, greeting them both and sliding into the bench opposite them.

Charlie: Do you both have a second?

Asher: Of course. It’s great to see you. You look great.

Dylan: Yeah, nice tan!

Charlie laughs sheepishly. It’s true, he is glowing! Compliments aside, he claims he was hoping he’d be able to catch them before the crowd came in for the full reunion party. He thinks he might need their help with something.

Charlie: I kind of have a big favor to ask.

Color them intrigued. Asher raises his eyebrows, glancing at Dylan, who already has a mischievous smile creeping onto his face.

Meanwhile, Riley is pulled away from her conversation with Nigel when Vanessa steps through the doors to the diner. She immediately goes to greet her, warmly welcoming her in with Zay not too far behind. Vanessa admits she isn’t sure if she showed up too early -- she didn’t mean to intrude. Riley assures her otherwise, and that she’s so glad she could make it.

From where they’ve gone to regroup with Lucas by the counter -- he seems chronically drawn to stand behind it, like a Pavlovian response to being in the diner -- Dylan, Asher, and Charlie watch Vanessa’s arrival with interest.

Asher: Kind of weird she’s here. I thought she hated Adams?

Dylan: I love it. Rivalries suck, love wins.

Charlie: For sure. I’m kind of surprised she and Zay seem so close though. I thought they were having some friction at Turner last I heard?

Lucas: Uh, yeah, I don’t know. I think they’re like, friends now.

Leave it to Lucas to have absolutely zero helpful intel. Joe heads out from the kitchen and makes his exit, reminding them all to lock up when they leave and not to burn the place down.

Joe: Been running this place for a decade or two, like to keep it standing for a year or two more.

Dylan: I will protect this place with my life. It’s never dying.

Lucas: I’ll lock up when we’re done.

That’s all he needed, but the Orlando enthusiasm is noted. All of them thank him profusely for letting them rent out his space, wishing him happy holidays. Before he jets off, though, Riley jumps in and asks if he’d be willing to take a photo of all of them.

Riley: For posterity my sanity, I’d love to have proof that this happened and all my beloveds were in fact here together.

Can always count on Riley to get the documentation. Some folks are reluctant by nature, but they all oblige, gathering by the counter and letting Riley rearrange them to fit. Half of them hop up onto the counter while the rest fill in on the stools and in front of it, managing to pull it together just in time for Joe to figure out Riley’s smartphone camera.

Joe: All right, all right, now if you can all stand still for five seconds I might be able to take this. One, two…

Joe snaps the photo, capturing the moment in time forever -- all of them assembled together, in their cutest winter attire, in their favorite hometown haunt. The neon lettering reading “Chubbies” above the kitchen is visible on the wall behind them. Asher is perched on the counter on the right end, just behind Dylan, who is bookending the right side; next to them, Lucas is on one of the stools, smiling lightly while Riley leans over his shoulder and hugs him from behind. Charlie’s got a hand on her shoulder, also on the counter in the back row with Yindra on his right, who has an arm around his shoulders to hug him close and throwing up a peace sign. In front of them, Zay and Vanessa are on the stools, and next to them, Farkle’s breaking up the back row with his height from the front. He’s got Maya on one side, tucked between him and Zay and looking appropriately diva at the near center, and Isa on his other, braving an arm around their shoulder that Isa doesn’t seem opposed to. Then, finally, Jade and Nigel bookend the left side, mirroring most of the other couples in their set up of Jade seated behind Nigel on the counter.

It’s an adorable photo, an instant classic. All of our favorites, together like they belong. As the jingle of bells cues up the next song…

INT. CHUBBIES - LATER - NIGHT

Song Cue ♫ ♪ “One I’ve Been Missing” as performed by Little Mix || Performed by AMBITION Ensemble

The cute, sentimental pop bop underscores the transition into the full reunion portion of the party, more of the A class friends arriving and joining the festivities. The ensemble’s harmony, reunited once more, acts as a backdrop to the montage of the community coming together at Chubbies, exchanging tight hugs and jumping into eager chatter about how their first semesters are going.

Darby gives Chai an excited hug when they see each other again; Yindra wraps Jeff in a bear hug and swears she’s never going to let him go. NATE MARTINEZ, NICK YOGI, and Dave are back to their usual antics with Dylan, like they were never apart, trying to see how many candy canes they can hook into Dave’s mouth at once. Charlie sits in a booth with Haley and Clarissa close on either side, showing them photos from his travels.

The whole montage emanates warmth, the undeniable cozy feeling of being home for the holidays. As the vocals slowly peter out and fade into the background, becoming diegetic, the scene continues.

Braving guaranteed tension, Maya makes her way through the throng and finds Isa. She clears her throat as she approaches, getting their attention and waiting for a signal that it’s okay to engage. Isa stares at her, frozen in shock for a second that she’s even bothering to try… but then relaxes somewhat, keeping their head held high. It’s not a detente, but it’s not walls up either. They’re willing to hear what she has to say.

Maya: Dylan told me you helped with my gift.

Isa: I wouldn’t say that. Dylan is a master of gift-giving; he hardly needs my help.

Maya: Well, he said you did. [ a beat ] And it was a really fabulous gift. I liked it a lot.

Isa: That’s good.

Maya: So… thanks. Merry Christmas.

Isa hesitates, not sure how to respond. It feels wrong -- dropping their pride and letting her in, but also continuing to let them stay in this fractured, broken state. Being with Maya isn’t supposed to feel this way. And even if the freeze out feels good in a vindictive sort of way, it hasn’t addressed anything. Isa doesn’t feel any closer to closure.

But they aren’t going to find the solution tonight. So for now, Isa accepts the truce, nodding.

Isa: You’re welcome.

Meanwhile, Nigel is taking the chance to catch up with Chai, curious to hear about how her experience is going in London. In sharp contrast to him, she loves her program. When she raves about the classes and her peers and the excitement of being in an entirely new city, it’s more than evident that she’s not bullshitting. She’s not making up enthusiasm to save face, she’s honestly enjoying her year and all of the things her program has to offer.

Chai: I don’t know how to explain, but I feel like a lot of the students in the UK just have such a different approach to the craft than we do here. Maybe it’s because we’re all spoiled in the saturation of growing up right by Broadway, I don’t know, but I think my classmates just seem to have… like, a more authentic appreciation for it. What goes into it all. Less Maya Harts, if that makes sense.

It does. It does, and it sounds like a dream.

Chai: I honestly don’t even know if I’m going to stay on the performing side of the industry. I’ve taken a couple courses this semester on producing and writing, and they’re super interesting fields. Still adjacent to the performing part, but maybe more up my alley. I don’t know.

Nigel: So you might just totally change your plan? And that doesn’t freak you out?

Chai: No. I thought it might, like I get what you’re saying, but it’s way more like excitement. It just feels like an experiment, maybe something I’m better suited for, but I won’t know until I give it a shot. I’m fortunate that my school feels like a place where I can do that. You know what I mean?

He doesn’t. Not familiarly. But it’s enticing -- Nigel asks to hear more, enraptured by her stories, which she’s happy to oblige. But she first mentions that she actually thought of him this semester, because she’s ended up in this extremely nerdy Discord server with some of her classmates that’s all about analyzing Shakespeare and other stage plays as well as exchanging recs. Super helpful for monologues, for one thing, but also just fun to unpack with people who are as interested in the subject matter.

Nigel: [ with wide eyes ] That sounds amazing.

Chai: I knew you’d say that. I literally said to myself after one of my peers sent this whole paragraph about Othello, “damn, Nigel would love this chat.” If you’re down, I’ll ask my friends and see if they can add you? It’s not like exclusive to my school or anything.

Nigel smiles, eagerly agreeing. He makes sure Chai has his info for the invite, should he be lucky enough to receive one.

It’s taken all night, but finally, Charlie finds a moment where Zay is alone. He steels himself and then approaches the table he’s sitting at with as much confidence as he can muster, trying to appear nonchalant. He has no chance of tempering his smile though -- it’s natural, instantaneous, the second he’s in his presence.

Charlie: Hi.

Zay mirrors his smile as he settles into the chair across from him.

Zay: Hey.

Charlie: I feel like it’s taken a thousand years to finally talk to you. Not how I planned it, I swear.

Zay: It’s all g. I get it. It’s crazy busy.

Charlie: Yeah, but still. I’m especially sorry I didn’t get to see your winter recital.

Zay: Please. It’s not as if you’ve never seen me dance before.

Charlie: Well, I always want to.

Well indeed. Zay absorbs that, even more impactful with Charlie’s earnest, sincere delivery. It’s much more potent up close and personal, not filtered through electronic devices. When he can see his smile, look into his bright eyes -- the prolonged break from it all only makes it worse.

Zay: Next time.

Charlie nods. It’s a promise.

Charlie: And I’m glad you were able to be there for mine. Even if stepping foot inside my church might have risked incineration.

Zay: Yeah, how fucking wild is that, huh? Think the us of a couple years ago would even believe it?

Charlie: Absolutely no chance. But I’m happy we got to prove them wrong. [ holding his gaze ] It really meant a lot to me. For you to be there.

God, he’s hard to look at sometimes. When he gets like this, when his eyes are shining like that. Zay has to look away, managing a smile as he drops his gaze to the table for a second to breathe.

Charlie hopes there’s more proving the past wrong to come. Now that the reunion ice has been broken, he shifts gears, reaching into his coat pocket.

Charlie: I have something for you.

Zay gasps, feigning offense.

Zay: You got me a gift? When you didn’t draw my name for the gift exchange? That’s not how Secret Snowflake works, Charlie. [ off his bashful laughter ] You can’t just break the rules like that.  My God, what did all that foreign sin do to you?

Charlie: I mean, I can take it back if you don’t want it.

Zay: [ playing humble ] Well… if you’ve already gone to all the trouble, I guess I could accept it. Out of the generosity of my kind, gracious heart.

Charlie grins, fondly amused as he shakes his head. He retrieves a small wrapped parcel from his coat and slides it across the table for Zay to take.

Zay wastes no time opening it, unveiling a handful of items from his travels abroad. Some are lighter in tone, like candy from different cultures and a German version of some Frank Ocean merch Charlie happened to find at a thrift shop. But the true star of the show is a classy and simple gold signet ring, similar in taste to ones Zay wears already but with its own unique touch due to its foreign design…

And maybe to make up for the one he’s missing, currently on the chain tucked under Charlie’s sweater.

Zay: Shit, Charlie. This is sick, man.

Charlie: … so you like it?

Zay: It’s all dope. I’m relieved to see that being in France didn’t irreparably damage your brain. [ meeting his eyes ] Thanks. Thanks for thinking of me, dude.

As if he ever isn’t. But it’s so good to see that smile again, and a relief that the gift went over well. But Charlie’s not finished. He licks his lips, taking Zay in for another long moment -- capturing the scene in his memory -- before he gathers his courage. He subtly reaches into the inner pocket of his coat.

Charlie: There’s actually one more thing that I --

He doesn’t get to finish, interrupted by Vanessa arriving at their table by Zay’s side. Charlie blinks at her, then manages a polite smile. Vanessa apologizes for interrupting their conversation, but Zay waves her off.

Zay: You’re fine. We were just talking.

Charlie looks like he disagrees, but it’s so subtle beneath his expertly crafted polite persona that you wouldn’t notice at a glance. He moves whatever it was he pulled from his coat down to his lap, out of sight.

Charlie: Vanessa. Hey.

Zay, confused: You know each other?

Vanessa: Barely. And not by his choice.

Charlie: Don’t say that. It wasn’t weird. We ran into each other this week by chance, and she mentioned she knew you.

He says it wasn’t weird, but based on Zay’s uncertain expression, it’s weird to him. It’s like his brain refused to process a world where both of them existed, let alone collided, and now he’s a bit slow to accept it as reality. He claims that if he was the connecting point, he may as well give them formal introductions, clearing his throat to do so.

Zay: Vanessa, this is Charlie, our friend who ditched us for the grand allure of being a French person.

Charlie: [ with an eye roll ] Zay, tu es tellement dramatique.

Vanessa: I don’t even know French, but I got enough of that to know I agree.

Zay: [ ignoring that ] And Charlie, this is Vanessa. My classmate at Turner. [ a beat ] And my girlfriend.

Oh. That lands about as heavily as you’d expect it to. It’s like lightning strikes their table, sending shockwaves through their corner of the diner. Vanessa stares at Zay, surprised -- she wasn’t expecting him to say anything. She didn’t expect him to proclaim it like that.

But she’s nowhere near as surprised as Charlie. At least she knew going into the conversation. At least she’s tethered to reality, not handicapped by so much time away and blinded by the rose-colored glasses he forgot to take off that just assumed things would work out. That thought it was finally the right time, that there wouldn’t be any obstacles he knew damn well could have materialized in the time he chose to be away, as if Zay would wait for him forever. His romanticized, daydreamer brain got carried away again, hoping for the impossible, and it always gets him into trouble.

He can’t think all of that right now, though. He can’t process it, because the moment he does, he doesn’t want to make everyone else have to see it. He forces himself to focus on the positive takeaways -- Zay is moving forward. Zay is with someone he likes.

Zay is happy. All he wants is for Zay to be happy.

So painful as it is, he manages a smile. Genuine, in some ways, just enough to cover for how it feels like his lungs are caving in.

Charlie: Wow. That’s -- that’s great. Congratulations.

Vanessa offers an awkward smile, crossing her arms and pushing some hair behind her ear. Zay keeps his eyes trained on Charlie, trying to sense if he’s okay. Unable to stop thinking of him, such a trained instinct now, even if it’s none of his business. A bit apologetic for how unceremoniously he dumped this information on him -- ideally, there would’ve been a better way to tell him.

But Charlie is holding it together impressively well. He’s trained all his life for moments like these. He’s grateful when Vanessa makes an attempt to change the subject, getting the attention off of him. He casually adjusts to clasps his hands behind his back… hiding the journal Zay gave him with them. The last gift he was planning to give him, just the start of his way of finally telling him his truth.

Plans change fast these days.

EXT. CHUBBIES - NIGHT

Farkle has escaped into the cold night to have a second alone, finally getting the chance to focus on his gift. He starts to tear at the paper when the bell jingles behind him, signaling someone coming outside to join him. So he starts to hide the gift instinctively… but it’s only Isa. He relaxes, exchanging a light smile with them as they come to join him by the wall.

Isa: Hey. Wondering where you’d disappeared to.

Farkle: You noticed I was gone? [ after a beat ] Not that I think you should, or anything.

Of course, Isa wants to say. Of course I noticed you were gone. All I’ve been able to think about for months is how you’re not here. I can’t be near you half the time because of how overwhelming it is to confront the fact that you’re not here when you aren’t.

But they don’t say any of that. They stammer through a casual response instead.

Isa: Well, it got remarkably quieter in there. [ off his playful eye roll ] And I noticed you still hadn’t had the chance to open your gift…

Oh, yes… they would notice that, wouldn’t they? Considering they’re the giver -- something Farkle was able to figure out, given how most everyone else shook out -- it’s impressive Isa waited this long to question him about it. He smiles sheepishly, lifting the present back into view again.

Farkle: Yeah. Sorry. It’s been so crazy in there, catching up with everyone. I didn’t want to miss Zay opening what I got for him, and then once everyone else showed up it’s like time evaporated. It’s part of why I came out here. I’m dying to check it out, but I didn’t want to make anyone else feel bad by opening it in front of them.

But now they’re alone… Isa raises their eyebrows, inviting him to go on. They hold their breath as he does so, peeling back the wrapping paper and revealing the contents of the small parcel.

Two novels, bound together with a nice, understated ribbon. Rare vintage copies of two of the literary classics -- The Great Gatsby, and of course, Pride & Prejudice.

Farkle gapes at them, mouth hanging open slightly. He turns the bundle over to get the full experience, marveling at the quality of the preserved rare editions and shaking his head in disbelief.

Farkle: Holy shit. Isa…

Isa, quickly: You don’t have to say anything. It’s okay if you don’t like them. [ anxious ] Would you believe it if I told you those literally came bundled together from the seller? Those two books exactly. Which I thought was insane, but it felt like, okay, there’s no way I can’t get these. It’s too fitting. Because I know you told me about how you like Gatsby before, how it’s one of your favorites. And it reminds you of your dad. And then P&P, I figured, well, best to finally give you your own copy so you don’t always have to read my shitty one cluttered with annotations. Since you never got to get one in junior year.

They’re overexplaining themselves, but Farkle doesn’t mind. He’s honestly barely listening, still processing how meaningful the gift is. It does prove one thing, that’s for sure -- Isa knows Farkle. Isa knows him all too well.

Isa: So yeah, sorry if this is dumb. I can get you something else.

Farkle: Are you kidding? This is incredible. [ meeting their eyes ] Thank you.

Isa tries to catch their breath, but it’s hard when he’s holding their eye contact like that. It’s been so long since they were this close, since his eyes looked so blue when viewed in proximity like they are now. It’s intimidating, making Isa’s heart pound… but it’s good, too. It’s so, so good.

Isa: You’re welcome. [ softer ] It’s really good to see you, Farkle.

Farkle lets the sentiment hang between them for a moment, soaking it up. Holding Isa’s gaze, not taking for granted the fact that they’re actually looking him in the eyes. It feels like they’ve been running from view all semester. Now they’re here, right there in front of him, and it’s impossible to look away.

Farkle: [ with a nod ] It’s really good to see --

Until it isn’t, and there’s something more eye-catching to grab his attention. Farkle glances over their shoulder, and then double takes, his eyes widening in shock.

Farkle: Jordan?

Isa frowns. Surely, they haven’t been apart so long that he’s forgotten their name already -- but no. He’s not looking at them anymore. Isa turns around to follow his line of sight, both of them watching as yes, Jordan Nelson walks towards them down the street. He’s got a bright, charming smile on his face, and he holds out his arms as he approaches.

Jordan: Surprise.

Farkle: What -- [ with an incredulous laugh ] what are you doing here?

Jordan: [ with a nonchalant shrug ] I was bored. L.A. is so lame this time of year; everyone books it out of town. And what can I say? I missed my guy.

Farkle chuckles bashfully, accepting the kiss Jordan greets him with. He has to be dreaming. Someone pinch him.

Isa looks like they’d be up for the job. They stare at Jordan and Farkle, torn between utter shock and mild disgust. They simply can’t make sense of what they’re seeing. Who the hell is this? And why the fuck are they calling Farkle their guy? The kiss doesn’t even register, it’s like they’ve blacked out.

Jordan: Besides, it’s been a while since I saw the Big Apple. Figured you could show me around. [ glancing towards Isa ] Speaking of. You gonna introduce me?

Farkle: What? Oh! Yes, yes. [ giggling, flustered ] Um, Jordan, this is my friend Isa.

Jordan: Ah, yes, the fellow director.

That’s all he says. No “nice to meet you,” no “Farkle’s told me all about you.” He’s over the introduction before Isa can even find the brain power to respond, tilting his head at Farkle.

Jordan: So, this is the party right? I’m looking forward to meeting everyone. [ with an elbow nudge ] Your turn to show me off.

Farkle looks more than ready to do that. He grins and takes Jordan’s hand, leading him back towards the diner. Isa blinks, suddenly left standing in the cold on their own.

What the hell just happened?

INT. CHUBBIES - NIGHT

Farkle and Jordan reenter, quickly catching the attention of some of the attendees with this new guest appearance. Riley is surprised but reacts aptly, a strong hostess as always, going to meet Farkle and cheerfully shaking hands with Jordan. Isa blankly walks in behind them, still in shock.

They aren’t the only one unsettled by this development. From where he’s chatting with Vanessa and Nigel, Zay clocks Jordan’s new appearance. Even without an introduction, he can tell who he is by how Farkle is acting around him -- and he doesn’t seem impressed by his presence. He frowns.

Maya is equally stunned to see him, thinking this two-week stint in New York might be a window of time where she actually got the old Farkle to herself. But apparently, Jordan is like gum on his shoe he isn’t scraping off, sticky and hard to remove. Before she can react, though, she’s distracted by a text on her phone in her group chat with Justin and Melissa.

Melissa Suzuki: Just dropped Lolli a few minutes ago. Strong reception so far -- you’ve def got a following after OMG that’s hungry for more

Justin Miller: THESE NUMBERS ARE I N S A N E, HART!! YOU ARE ON FIRE

He sends several fire emojis to accent the point. Maya grins, eagerly clicking to her profiles on social media to take a look for herself. They’re telling the truth -- “LolliPop” is still fresh out of the musical oven, and it’s already making a dent in the landscape.

INT. MATTHEWS HOME - JOSH’S BEDROOM - NIGHT

Josh is checking out the same stats in his childhood bedroom, hunched over his laptop and eagerly watching the praise start to pour in. He’s filled with pride, and excitement -- finally, a song he helped produce, that he really believes in, is making some waves. He opens his messaging app to text Maya about it, to offer early congratulations and a job well done.

But then he freezes, something on the YouTube page catching his attention. Once he notices, he can’t look away, closing the messaging app and clicking on the description of the song to make sure he’s not misreading it.

But he isn’t. In the song credits, he isn’t listed. There’s no “Josh Matthews” anywhere on the song. Justin and Melissa are represented under producers, and Maya has her top billing under lyrics.

But nothing for him. He’s totally erased from the creative footprint.

Amy, off-screen: Josh? Are we doing this?

Morgan, off-screen: Yeah, come on, Joshie! I wanna see your big hit song!

All the color has left Josh’s face, numb as he stares at the song credits that erase his existence.

He’s nothing.

INT. NYU APARTMENT - NIGHT

A quiet has settled over the apartment after the social chaos of the evening, something Lucas is clearly grateful for. He’s much more comfortable in the safety of this space, enjoying the glow of the Christmas tree lights that he put up with friends than he could ever be in the apartment of his parents -- no matter how many pretty decorations they put up.

The peace isn’t disrupted by Riley’s return home, evidently one of the last to leave the gathering at Chubbies. No surprise there. Lucas offers her a light smile and greets her, which she easily returns. He waits for Isa to step inside as well, frowning slightly when they don’t appear.

Lucas: Where’s Dora?

Riley, coyly: I may have requested they go back to Eric’s for the night. Thought it might be a nice gift to all of us to take a break from the roommate-ing for a bit.

Lucas: And they agreed? That’s big of them.

Riley: Tis the season. Besides, I think they understood -- I know you don’t prefer company, especially when things get sentimental. And I want things to be as comfortable as possible… considering I still need to give you your gift.

Ooh, surprise, surprise! Except not really, because Lucas figured out pretty quickly during the party that Riley must be his Secret Snowflake. He feigns acting taken by surprise, but Riley sees through it, tilting her head at him in amusement as she comes to join him by the couch.

Riley: You knew?

Lucas: [ with a shrug ] Once I was standing empty-handed while everyone else was opening their gifts, it was fairly obvious. I figured it had to be you, because if anyone else simply decided not to get me something, I know you’d chew them out and it would have been a whole ordeal.

True that! Riley smiles, proud, then nods in acknowledgement.

Riley: Sorry if you felt left out. Like I said, knowing you, I thought you’d probably prefer to get it later when there were less people around.

Lucas: No worries, and correct. Sparing me that is already gift enough, thank you.

Riley rolls her eyes, shaking her head at him. Easy a gift as that would’ve been, she has more than that -- she holds up a small, wrapped box in her palms, topped with a blue bow.

Riley: Merry Christmas.

Lucas takes it delicately, giving her a playfully suspicious look before he opens it. He lifts the lid off the box, revealing the contents as he pulls it out.

A lanyard. Simple, understated navy, dug out from the supply closet of the animal shelter they work at together. Just like he joked he might need, now that he’s building all these spaces one might call a home.

Riley: Since you’re acquiring all these keys, I thought it would be wise to make sure you don’t lose them. Especially when you go off to Davis, and there’s even more to keep track of.

Lucas doesn’t know what to say. It’s sweet, something he’ll actually use, and so perfectly Riley to think to get him something like this. Thankfully, she fills the silence for him, continuing to explain.

Riley: I know you’ll be able to put the keys on yourself, but I wanted to make sure you had something on it to start with. A little piece of home to carry around with you.

She points out the small keychain on the ring, currently the only item attached. It’s basically a locket, and when he opens it, we see a photo of the two of them on the inside. A copy of the one Grace took on prom night, where they’re looking at each other and so naturally at ease. At home, with one another.

More than a piece of home -- she’s given him the whole thing.

Lucas: Riley…

Riley: Shh. We’re not done quite yet.

She takes the lanyard from him and holds it up, gesturing for him to dip his head. He obliges, letting her drape it around his neck. Once he straightens up, eyeing her for approval, she beams and smooths it out against his chest.

Riley: There’s a couple more pieces to this gift -- one of which we’ll need to retire to the bedroom for, so mentally prepare yourself for that accordingly --

Lucas: [ with a bashful cough ] Okay, we don’t need to…

Riley: [ not hearing it ] But first, it’s a special time of year, so I believe a dance is in order. Admittedly, this is more of a gift for both of us, since I know that’s a sacrifice for you, but I’m willing to offer a bit of singing to compensate. I have it on good authority that you’re not opposed to the sound of my voice.

Lucas: Well… if it’s for you…

She didn’t need to sell it that hard, honestly. If Riley wants to dance, then Lucas will dance -- and she’s right that hearing her sing is a gift all its own to him. She gives him an affectionate smile, reaching for the remote on the side table to turn on the sound system and cue up the song she had in mind.

Then she takes his hands, leading him to the center of the living room.

Song Cue ♫ ♪ “The Christmas Song (Merry Christmas To You)” as performed by Nat King Cole || Performed by Riley Matthews

In the grand, essential tradition of Riley and Lucas slow-dancing, Riley has chosen one of the gentlest, most tender Christmas songs to do it justice. And she does deliver, quietly serenading Lucas as they sway together in the middle of the living room. It’s simple, understated, and sweet, which is all it has to be. For the two of them, that’s enough.

As the piano interlude begins, breaking up the choruses, we transition…

INT. GARCIA HOME - LIVING AREA - NIGHT

Into a montage, chronicling other glimpses of the upcoming holidays. In the Garcia home, the usual Christmas eve gathering goes off without a hitch. Dylan helps Asher put the finishing touches on an ornament he can’t quite reach at the top of the tree, then leans over his shoulder to gift him a peck on the cheek. It’s warmly received, Asher giving him a fond smile.

Passing that tree…

INT. GARDNER HOME - LIVING ROOM - NIGHT

We emerge behind another one, this one surrounded by presents piled high on the tree skirt. The lights are low save for the tree lights, casting the room in a glimmering subtle hue of colors. The house is quiet for the evening, most of the family seemingly having retreated for the night.

But not Charlie. He’s curled up on the couch, holding a mug in his palms but not drinking it. He’s lost in thought, staring at the tree but not really seeing it. He’s still processing what he learned at the party, trying to accept it as reality without letting it utterly crush him. He knew this could happen. He knew he had to be okay with the possibility when he went away.

That doesn’t mean it wouldn’t hurt, though. It was always going to hurt. And once it really hits him, it will. There will be time for regret; there will be plenty of time for tears.

Later, though. Not tonight. Tonight, life goes on, as Rosie comes to join him in the living room moments later with a mug of her own. She happily plops on the couch next to him, commenting on how pretty the tree is. She holds out her mug, inviting a cheers.

Life goes on. Charlie shakes off the melancholy, returning her smile and clinking his mug against hers. Skippy scampers in to join them and hops onto the couch, curling up in between them. Even DAISY GARDNER ambles in a couple seconds later, acting nonchalant as she comes and sits on the floor against the couch.

INT. BABINEAUX HOME - ZAY’S BEDROOM - NIGHT

Reclined against his pillows but not quite asleep, Zay is doing some ruminating of his own. His mind is buzzing too much to sleep. Too much to think about, even though he isn’t sure he knows what. So much social stimulation, maybe. Mixing the old with the new. Good friends. Dealing with Maya Hart.

Long-awaited homecomings. He turns the gold signet ring over in his fingers, smiling lightly to himself.

INT. HART APARTMENT - DAY

Speaking of Maya, she and Katy are celebrating the big release of “LolliPop” together, dancing around their living room together and singing along. Katy spins her daughter under her arm, who laughs loudly and tries to return the favor.

Maya doesn’t think to check the production credits. She doesn’t even look, even as they’re sitting right there on her laptop screen underneath the lyric video that’s playing.

In her mind, it never occurred to her that something would be amiss.

INT. MINKUS HOME - DAY

Farkle is enjoying blissful ignorance of his own, making the most of Jordan’s surprise visit and introducing him to his family. Jennifer is more than eager to meet him, while EZRA MINKUS hangs back uncertainly -- he gets more shy as he gets older. Uri also hangs back, but for different reasons. He looks suspicious and unimpressed as he chews on a carrot stick, watching Jordan attempt to charm their mother.

INT. LUCAS’S APARTMENT - LUCAS’S BEDROOM - NIGHT

Lucas gets another unexpected holiday surprise, opening an email on his laptop.

It’s from Evelyn Rand. He’s got the job. He’s her brand new assistant, and he’ll start training next week. She’s looking forward to working together and seeing what he brings to the table.

After a beat, Lucas smiles.

INT. BEAMON HOME - JADE’S BEDROOM - NIGHT

Jade makes a career move of her own. After one last moment of hesitation, she hits send on a message, responding to Pinhead Threads. She’s open to an interview, if they’re still interested in bringing her on.

Now it’s time to wait and see what the universe has in store. She exhales a deep breath.

INT. NYU APARTMENT - ISA’S BEDROOM - NIGHT

Later that week, Isa returns to their room with mail, including a thick envelope addressed to them. It’s from the MacNamaras, including another holiday card with their family and a new letter from Zachary.

And plane tickets. A flight voucher for a round trip to Los Angeles, for whenever they decide they’re ready to come for a visit.

Somehow, the idea doesn’t fill them with dread, but rather excitement and a bit of hope. They smile, looking at the letter and starting to read.

INT. NYU APARTMENT - NIGHT

Back in the present, Riley and Lucas wrap up the number, holding each other close. Riley hums out the last few notes, and then Lucas initiates a soft kiss, effectively ending the performance. Riley has no complaints about that, nudging her forehead against his and stealing another one.

As the gentle piano fades out…

INT. JACK AND ERIC’S PLACE - NIGHT

Jack returns home, starting to chat about the school board elections as he assumes Eric is going to be right inside where he left him earlier that afternoon. He only pauses when he realizes no one is in the living area, taking a moment to look around and confirm it’s so.

Jack: Eric?

Eric, off-screen: In here.

Coming from the dining room. Jack follows his voice.

Jack: You’re not going to believe the smear ad Connelly is planning to run about me. I got an advanced notice of it from some folks on the campaign, and --

INT. JACK AND ERIC’S PLACE - DINING ROOM - NIGHT

Jack halts his story when he enters the dining room, surprised at what he’s found. The table has been set for two, a dinner ordered in from the restaurant they both like where they had their first official date in 304. Candles are lit; one of Jack’s favorite classical pieces is playing on the speakers.

And then there’s Eric. Smiling at him, looking charming as ever. Jack tentatively returns the smile.

Jack: What’s all this? [ with dread ] Shit. I didn’t forget an anniversary or something, did I --

Eric: No, no. No, you didn’t. This was all my scheming.

Okay, that’s a relief. And a curiosity, as it leaves open one question -- why? What’s the occasion? Eric comes around the table and joins Jack by the doorway, telling him there’s something he really wants to say to him.

Jack: Is this the grand reveal of the long game you’ve been playing to psychologically torture me? Where you reveal this whole thing has been a ruse to gain my trust?

Eric: No. Although that would be wonderfully theatrical.

Jack: Knew you’d say that. Drama king.

Eric: In another life, perhaps. But no. Right now, I’m kind of thinking the opposite.

Jack raises his eyebrows, letting him take the floor. Eric takes a deep breath, holding his eye contact as he puts his thoughts together. He remarks on the fact that Jack’s joking aside, he does have a point -- who would’ve thought, even just a couple years ago, that they’d end up together like this. Friends, lovers, partners. Shacked up without doing anything about it, as his family might say.

Jack: I hope you’re not taking that to heart. I’m fine with how things are, Eric. Really.

Eric: I know. I know, me too. If I were going to change something, trust me, it wouldn’t be because of my family.

But they do play an important part in what he’s trying to say. Because for all his jokes, he was certain when Jack met them, he was going to realize just how nutty his roots really are. His family is a lot to handle -- which he probably already guessed from just working with him and Cory for so many years -- but he dreaded the possibility that meeting them would send him running for the hills. Particularly since he’s so dismissive of drama, no matter how silly or serious it is.

Eric: But you’re always full of surprises. First of all, you’re actually just as dramatic as I am, you just hide it better.

Jack: Well.

Eric: And you handled my family like it was nothing. With compassion, and grace, and a bit of humor, which believe me is an absolute essential in my clan. You nailed it. And I kept trying to understand that in my head, why it felt so easy when it should have been so hard, but then it finally clicked. You fit right in with my family because you are my family, Jack. You have been for years.

Jack smiles, touched. He lets Eric take his hands.

Eric: I swear what I’m about to ask has nothing to do with what my parents said, or any other factors but my own heart. Because I know this is right -- this is a change that’s been held off far longer than it should have been. But I’m thinking I want to make our shared family more official.

Now he’s got his attention for real. Jack’s eyes widen -- even more so when Eric gets down on one knee.

Jack: Oh my God. What are you doing?

Eric: Jackson Hunter. I promise you, me of a few years ago is screaming bloody murder right now. But the past is the past -- what I care about is right now. And the future. The future I want to build with you.

Eric reaches into his pocket, pulling out a ring. One from the Matthews family, belonging to Amy’s grandfather, the wedding band he wore right up until the day he died. A symbol of a life-long commitment -- one Eric is more than ready to make now.

Eric: Will you marry me, Jackie?

Jack stares in disbelief, his brain taking a few moments to catch up. His eyes are glossed over with tears, which he blinks away before releasing a pointed exhale. One last chance to catch his breath, to live in the before. Then he breaks into a grin.

Jack: Yeah. Yes, Eric, now get up so you can kiss me.

Eric’s smile is pure sunshine. He jumps back to his feet and slips the ring on Jack’s finger with shaky hands, before pulling him into a kiss. It’s a bit sloppy, broken up by their shared laughter.

It’s happening. Jack Hunter and Eric Matthews are getting married.

EXT. CAROLING LOCALE - NIGHT

Song Cue ♫ ♪ “Hark, The Herald Angels Sing” as performed by Vince Guaraldi Trio || Performed by Rosie Gardner & The Gifted School Carolers

In a cute but chilly area of the upper east side, Rosie’s school fundraising group has set up shop even under a light sprinkling of snow. But it seems like this part of town may as well be deserted, not much foot traffic despite how hard Rosie worked to pick a spot.

Basically, it’s her worst nightmare. As the other choir members mumble the opening hums of the Charlie Brown tune in the background, Rosie is in lowkey hysterics, rambling nervously to one of the few guests who happens to be there to watch -- Uri Minkus. He’s doing his best to be supportive and listen, but he looks decidedly overwhelmed and unprepared for a Gardner-level mental breakdown.

Rosie: This is a disaster! I mean, not only am I going to be the flop of the century at school, and everyone is going to know about it -- and oh my gosh, Ashlyn is going to have a hecking field day -- but now I’m gonna flop at church too. Everyone in my church is going to know I’m a big, holy failure. I’m gonna be frickin’ excommunicated for being such a flop! Like, what the heck am I going to do?

Uri: … convert to Judaism?

That’s an idea, but not helpful right now, Uri! Rosie stares at him, eyes wide, then releases a pitiful dying noise from the back of her throat before whipping away from him and rushing back towards the carolers. Uri awkwardly scratches his ear, knowing damn well he did not handle that well. But what do we expect? He’s fifteen!

Thankfully, Rosie has other support systems coming to the rescue. Her choir director points out that it looks like there may be a few folks coming their way they could sing to -- and that’s just the tip of the iceberg. All of a sudden, like a blessing from above, a big crowd of listeners makes their way towards the locale. A class alumni are peppered amongst the throng, Nate making himself known unapologetically.

Nate: All right, let’s get this caroling bread. Come on, I wanna hear some harmonies!

Rosie spins and watches the incoming rush in amazement, totally bewildered… until she sees Charlie and Bridgette in the crowd. She weaves her way through to come and meet them, both of them greeting her with smiles. She takes Charlie’s arms.

Rosie: What is all this? Did you do this?

Charlie: What are you talking about? You’re the one who organized this fundraiser, not me.

Rosie: But all the people --

Bridgette: Yeah, a lot of people who want to hear your adorable little caroling. You better get back up there and pipe up, it’s your event after all.

They may be playing coy, but Rosie knows they did this. They came to her aid, rescued her when she was seconds from drowning. She lets out a relieved giggle and squeezes Charlie’s hand, then breaks away to rush back to the carolers. Charlie and Bridgette exchange a knowing look, still grinning.

From a few feet away, Zay poses the question to Dylan, who has his arm around Asher’s shoulders.

Zay: Just how did you get all these people to show up?

Dylan, blithely: [ with a shrug ] I figured some of my followers had to live in Manhattan, so I sounded a clarion call. Magic happens when you’ve got tens of thousands of followers.

Maya: [ with a disturbed shake of her head at his follower count ] Unbelievable…

Count on Dylan Orlando to use his power for good! Rosie has rejoined her classmates now at the front of a bustling crowd, sparkle back in her eyes and ready to sing. The choir director tees them up, and they launch into the carol “Hark, The Herald Angels Sing” (though I must clarify, they’re much better than the Charlie Brown choir. No offense Vince Guaraldi and company).

As the fundraising donation box gets passed around, we catch a few more glimpses of the holiday cheer. Farkle bounces along to the carol and teasingly elbows Uri to the beat, who does his best to look irritated but cracks a smirk. The techie tots, Yogi, and Nigel huddle together, swaying in a big block to the music. Riley hugs Lucas’s arm and rests her head against his upper arm, causing Lucas to smile.

And from where he’s watching with Vanessa, Zay casts a glance over a couple feet in front of him… and can’t help but smile. Charlie is beaming as he watches his sister perform, glowing as bright as the twinkle lights set up in the snow around them. Seemingly the epitome of the season’s joy -- and so, so happy to be back home.

Glory to the newborn king!

END OF EPISODE.

[bradyoil]

Ilanna Barkusky: Embracing Her Unexpected Path to Directorial Success.

Born in Vancouver, Canada and now based in Los Angeles, Ilanna Barkusky is an internationally awarded commercial director, filmmaker and photographer. Her creative journey originated in the action sports industry, capturing athletes in the mountains with her camera in tow while completing her Bachelor of Arts at the University of British Columbia.

Through her work, she unifies dynamic movement with uplifting storytelling, leading her to collaborate with clients such as Red Bull, Roxy, the LA Clippers, the Bill & Melinda Gates Foundation and Harvard Business Review.

FILMMAKER RETREAT JOSHUA TREE 2024 - SIGN UP NOW

It's almost here! Our 3rd annual Filmmaker Retreat Joshua Tree is Thursday, September 26th – Sunday, September 29th, 2024. I always use the word "transformational" in describing the past two years - because our tribe of like-minded filmmakers express that the retreat truly changed their lives. Both professionally and personally. Reserve your spot before the end of the year to take advantage of that last minute 2024 write-off. Limit 20 Filmmakers.

FLOW

Use the link plus code JB20 when you try https://www.magicmind.com/jordanbrady chug it daily after your coffee. If you follow me on Instagram you know my geniune endorsment of this mighty mind power juice.

Check out my Masterclass or Commercial Directing Shadow online courses. (Note this link to the Shadow course is the one I mention in the show.) All my courses come with a free 1:1 mentorship call with yours truly. Taking the Shadow course is the only way to win a chance to shadow me on a real shoot! DM for details.

How To Pitch Ad Agencies and Director’s Treatments Unmasked are now bundled together with a free filmmaker consultation call, just like my other courses. Serious about making spots? The Commercial Director Mega Bundle for serious one-on-one mentoring and career growth.

Here's the Lbb Director's Playbook article sharing my pitch secrets. And my follow up that came out this week, How To Write Winning Treatments. 

4+ NEW BEHIND-THE-SCENES

I've uploaded more raw behind-the-scenes, with dailies, agency interaction, directing top talent and collaborating with my crew, all at Commercial Directing Masterclass. And you'll wanna check out the new courses, like Behind The Beard and Winning Director Treatments.

Thanks to our editor Jake Brady We could not do the show without him and love this guy behind words. Need your pod spruced up? Check out his Podcast Wax.

Thanks,

Jordan

This episode is just about 80 minutes.

My cult classic mockumentary, “Dill Scallion” is online so I’m giving 100% of the money to St. Jude Children’s Hospital. I’ve decided to donate the LIFETIME earnings every December, so the donation will grow and grow. Thank you.

Respect The Process podcast is brought to you by Commercial Directing FIlm School and True Gentleman Industries, Inc. in partnership with Brady Oil Entertainment, Inc.

Check out this episode!

[elationhq]

good afternoon, sunshines! it's been a minute since we showed face. we came to say we did a little housekeeping this morning and we're in search of new muses with bright personalities. under the read more, you will find an updated list of wanted connections by our members.

brother to london lewis (brixana faceclaim)

(jalengreen) wait, hold up! isn’t that the isn’t that the son actress korin lewis? what’s his name again? oh, yeah, first name lewis. i hear he’s a twenty-four year old basketball player living it up in los angeles. i wonder if that rumor about him being suspended without pay for violating the terms of the nba anti-drug program by testing positive for growth hormones is true. i know the blogs make him out to be [trait] but he seems so [trait]. (pronouns + tmz)

sister to austin bautista (jordan clarkson faceclaim)

(kehlani) wait, hold up! isn’t that the child of baseball player apollo bautista? what’s their name again? oh, yeah, paris bautista. i hear they’re a twenty-seven year old sports photographer living it up in los angeles. i wonder if that rumor about them being a functional alcoholic is true. i know the blogs make them out to be [trait] but they seem so [trait]. (pronouns + tmz)

estranged friend to olivia st. james (lori harvey faceclaim)

(ben simmons) wait, hold up! isn’t that the son of [film producer + name]? what’s his name again? oh, yeah, character name. i hear he's a twenty-eight year old film director living it up in los angeles. i wonder if that rumor about him mentally mistreating his actors is true. i know the blogs make him out to be [trait] but he seems so [trait]. (pronouns + tmz)

client to legend thibodeaux (jalen hurts faceclaim)

(tyler lepley/keith powers) wait, hold up! isn’t that the son of [famous parent occupation + name]? what’s his name again? oh, yeah, character name. i hear he's a thirty-one year old chef/culinary influencer living it up in los angeles. i wonder if that rumor about him republishing other people's recipes as his own is true. i know the blogs make him out to be [trait] but he seems so [trait]. (pronouns + tmz)

[thoughtportal]

Exploring the correspondence of June Jordan and Audre Lorde, Marina Magloire assembles an archive of a Black feminist falling-out over Zionism.

In Jordan’s handwritten notes for her 1990 essay, “Intifada, U.S.A.,” the word “INTIFADA” is repeated, like a spell, like a chorus to a song yet to be written. When Jordan visited Lebanon in 1996, we clearly see her commitment to intifada as a practice. During this trip, she took many photographs at the refugee camps of Sabra and Shatila, the sites of the atrocities she had raged against 14 years prior. Her photos and notes linger on the signs of life stubbornly creeping back into the landscape of the camps: clotheslines strung between blasted buildings, a young man ducking behind bullet-pocked stairs, women planting flowers. Like Lorde, we find Jordan amid the rubble, but in the latter’s case, it is her material presence: her sneakered feet, her hands clasping a camera, her yellow legal pad dutifully documenting the martyrs and those who survived. She was not content to merely lament Palestinian death from afar; she wanted to sit in the living room they created atop the ruins: “I watched a woman setting out a jasmine plant that would probably manage the atmosphere and, possibly, flourish.” Jordan’s model of solidarity is as arduous as the slow growth of this embattled jasmine, and it goes far beyond the cessation of genocide. If, as Jordan has it, “the issue of the Palestinian people is the issue of the value of human life,” Jordan teaches us to move towards life. {read}

[jramayphotography]

Jordan Los Angeles photographer, provides glimpses of time over the photographs

Photographs are not the captured moments; they are glimpses of our life which tell a story hidden behind them. The photograph gives us nostalgic memories after time. Each photograph carries a bucket of emotions with it. The Jordan Los Angeles photographer also believes in proving every detail of the captured moments. From the decorations to the faces of the people the photographer focuses on each minor to major thing of the event. These photographs do shows the glimpses of time they had spent with their special ones which fills the individual's hearts with smiles, laughter and much more.

[sa7abnews]

Ben Affleck was ‘rude’ in disastrous Australian interview, veteran broadcaster reveals

New Post has been published on https://sa7ab.info/2024/08/06/ben-affleck-was-rude-in-disastrous-australian-interview-veteran-broadcaster-reveals/

Ben Affleck was ‘rude’ in disastrous Australian interview, veteran broadcaster reveals

It turns out that Jennifer Lopez isn’t the only woman who’s had to be on camera with Ben Affleck when he’s apparently not in the mood to be photographed or interviewed and can’t help but appear bored, sullen or worse. In fact, veteran Australian Broadcasting Corporation journalist and host Sarah Ferguson has rated Affleck as one of the most aggravating famous people she’s ever interviewed, according to the Daily Mail. “He was just rude, not interested, going through the motions,” said Ferguson (no relation to the British royale), who currently hosts ABC TV’s flagship news and current affairs program, “7.30.” She was speaking about Affleck in an interview to the Sydney Morning Herald’s Sunday Life magazine. Related Articles

Entertainment |

Photos: Paris Olympics celebrity sightings

Entertainment |

Green Day lead singer Billie Joe Armstrong spray-paints over A’s logo at Toronto Blue Jays ballpark

Entertainment |

Eric Trump compares Prince Harry, Meghan Markle to ‘spoiled apples’

Entertainment |

L.A. home of Tom Hanks and Rita Wilson burglarized

Entertainment |

Tom Hanks and Rita Wilson are latest celebs targeted by burglary gang

Ferguson’s less-than-pleasant experience with the “Argo” actor and director occurred in March 2023 when she interviewed him and his “Air” co-star, Chris Tucker, she told the Sydney Morning Herald. The actors were on “7:30” to promote the film, which depicts the origins of Nike’s iconic Air Jordan shoes. Affleck also directed the film, which co-starred Matt Damon, Jason Bateman and Viola Davis. During the interview, an unsmiling, downcast Affleck gave rambling answers and repeatedly looked off camera, as a clip of the interview shows. According to Ferguson, the interview was so bad that only four of the questions she asked could be used on air. Ferguson’s revelations come at a time when Affleck has recently appeared quite a bit in public, not smiling and looking downcast or angry. His displeasure is understandable, given that he’s being followed around Los Angeles by paparazzi who are trying to chronicle the breakdown of his two-year marriage to movie and pop mega-star Jennifer Lopez. But a sullen Ben Affleck has become part of his public persona. Supposedly, Lopez had a problem with her estranged fourth husband’s tendency to always look miserable when he joined her in public, especially when he spent the 2023 Grammys, where she was a presenter, looking bored, exhausted and unhappy. The singer/actor/influencer has always liked playing the role of fashion icon and entertainment diva for the camera. In March, Affleck admitted that he tends to be “a little bit shy,” which could explain why he always looks angry in photos. “People see me and they’re like, ‘Why is this dude always mad?’ Because somebody has their camera sticking in my face. And I’m like, ‘OK, here we go,’” Affleck said during an interview with Kevin Hart’s Peacock talk show, “Hart to Heart.” Affleck told Hart he often encounters unwelcome attempts to photograph him while he’s out in public with his three children, according to Today.com. “What I’d actually like to do is do something much more definitive than just look at you (with a frown). And I may be angry that you’re around my child,” said the actor, who also once admitted to Jimmy Kimmel to having “a very unhappy-looking resting face.” Affleck also was the subject of the “sad Ben Affleck meme” and a viral 2018 New Yorker essay, titled “The Great Sadness of Ben Affleck.”  Affleck has himself admitted that he was miserable in 2017, 2018 and 2019, when his first marriage to Jennifer Garner was breaking down and he was playing Batman in “Justice League.” The actor, who has long struggled with alcohol addiction, told The Hollywood Reporter in 2023 that he was drinking “too much” at the time. The “Good Will Hunting” Oscar winner insisted to Hart that he understands that people are interested in taking photos of him at certain work events.  “I don’t give a (expletive),” he said with an edge to his voice. “Go ahead, knock yourself out. I don’t notice you. But with my children, that’s a different thing.” Of course, Affleck can’t bring up his children as a reason for being “rude” to ABC’s Ferguson, a well-respected journalist in Australia — not an annoying tabloid reporter whom he might look down on. At the time of their interview, Affleck was said to be happy in the first year of his marriage to Lopez and, according to reports, sober and healthy. On her show, Ferguson seemed to be trying to engage him in a lively, thoughtful conversation about his film so that he could promote it.  Affleck was apparently proud of the movie, which received mostly positive reviews. Critics praised Affleck’s “sure-handed” direction, the film’s lively, funny and warm performances, its “crackling good screenplay” and Affleck’s dynamic with Damon, his longtime friend and collaborator. Maybe Affleck was having difficult with the time-zone differences in the interview. But at one point, Ferguson asked the movie star a potentially sensitive question that he had addressed in other interviews — about how “Air” is focused on a “white-run corporate entity” creating partnerships with young African American athletes that gave them a stake in future profits. But when Ferguson asked, Affleck appeared to have trouble articulating his intentions or his effort to incorporate the point of view of Black actors and collaborators in the film, including Michael Jordan. According to the Daily Mail, Affleck awkwardly told Ferguson, “It happened by my looking at the story and thinking initially, you know, knowing a little bit how these companies work, and knowing about, you know, knowing by instinct it wasn’t only white people who worked at this company who were relevant to the story.” “And I didn’t want to make that story,” Affleck continued. “Luckily, Michael (Jordan) graciously made himself available to me, and directed me to the three people he felt were principally relevant here… and also he talked about his father and his mother.” Affleck was more articulate in his 2023 interview with The Hollywood Reporter — which wasn’t a TV interview and therefore didn’t involve that kind of pressure. Affleck told THR: “I wouldn’t make a movie whose central premise is the appropriation of Black culture for profit by white Americans. That’s not my film to make. I’m telling a story that’s about a combination of things, and this is one aspect of it.”

[jordanwolfson01]

Website: https://www.moma.org/artists/69643 Jordan Wolfson takes center stage at Gagosian's exhibition in Basel, showcasing his recent works on paper. In "Drawings," Jordan Wolfson disrupts and recontextualizes symbols of optimism and love by juxtaposing painted-over photographs of JFK Jr. with striking red rose decals and provocative slogans. Through defacement, Jordan Wolfson he transforms the late presidential scion into an outsider figure, presenting self-portraits as "Little J." While "Drawings" marks a relatively modest debut at Gagosian, Jordan Wolfson’s confrontational style spans various mediums and explores unsettling social and psychological themes. The exhibition precedes upcoming shows in Australia and Los Angeles, with new works displayed at Art Basel 2023. #Art#Jordan Wolfson

[tayfabe75]

"Nine years ago and having just turned 21 I went to Los Angeles to photograph @taylorswift for the cover of the NME for the promotion of Taylor's new album '1989'. I think it was only my second time in the USA for work 🇺🇸 What a time…"

October 27, 2023: Photographer Jordan Curtis Hughes posts a throwback of Taylor Swift in honor of 1989's re-release, from when he photographed her for the cover of NME Magazine in 2015. (source 1, 2)

[ardn632-themanipulatedimage]

Artist Model Research

Alexander Neumann

Born and raised in Peru, Alexander Neumann had an artistic influence from his homeland and father whom was a painter and art collector, leaving a profound effect on his career as the influences became so natural to Nuewmann’s themes of colour and playful style that establishes the photographer today. Studying and developing the mixture of art, philosophy and communications as a background, he discovered his love for photography. 

Initially focusing on documentary and fine art photography, he sought creative challenges, thus moving to New York. Working with great influences along the way, his aesthetics and inspirations shifted closer to fashion and the vibrancy and elegance that his relaxed style and aura from his pieces create is a moulded reflection of his appreciation for all forms of art and honest authenticity. 

Shotview.com/artists/alexander-neumann

Chris Jordan

With a single image of compressed garbage pinned up on the wall of his studio, feeling such guilt and drive for a better tomorrow, Chris Jordan does his part of advocating a change, specifically in America’s prominent mass consumption of everything. 

Exposing shocking sights of mass consumption, the environmental photographer employs the aspects of near and far, hoping to “raise some questions about roles and responsibilities we each play as individuals in a collective that is increasingly enormous, incomprehensible and overwhelming.”

In one way or another, Jordan believes and reminds us through his eco-art and photo manipulation, that everyone is an activist in their own ways and feels that in order to change the world, radical change must happen, knowing that an artist can bring personal and emotional aspects to making an impact.

Each image he captures, tells of a statistical story that not only captivates viewers, but also holds shocking information that relates back to our treatment to the planet we’re living in.

I was quite moved and inspired by the words, “as an American consumer myself, I am in no position to finger wag; but I do know that when we reflect on a difficult question in the absence of an answer, our attention can turn inward, and in that space may exist the possibility of some evolution of thought or action. So my hope is that these photographs can serve as portals to a kind of cultural self-inquiry. It may not be the most comfortable terrain, but I have heard it said that in risking self-awareness, at least we know that we are awake.” Which makes me think about my image manipulations and how I also want to provoke audiences to see and do.

Dario Catellani

A self-taught photographer from Italy, Dario Catellani utilises his background in architecture and visual arts to dissect contemporary deliveries to images, which defines the unique visions of fashion photography. 

Expanding his portfolio to include fine art photography, portraiture and documentary photography, Catellani’s work typically features people in extraordinary scenes as his photographs depicts a foundational use of light and composition with his use of natural light that uses a dream-like aura in his images.

Juco

A lighting workshop at the San Francisco Art Institute is where Julia Galdo and Cody Cloud's Los Angeles-based company, JUCO, got its start. With their daring, colourful, character-driven work, they are now working hard to establish a reputation for themselves in the commercial and editorial worlds.

The two had a peculiar path to photography. While Cloud was introduced by a hobbyist family friend who would take him on picture trips on the weekends when he was in his late teens, Galdo was trained as a marine biologist and discovered she had a flair for the medium by accident after taking a few lessons for pleasure. He assisted fashion photographers after graduating, and she went on to work in advertising. Both of their experiences shaped the way they do business. Within the squad, "we each have our own strengths and weaknesses," they claim. "My background as an art director has taught me how to pitch and tell stories, whereas Cody is extremely technical and knows how to move around a set."

Their dynamic, character-driven approach is constantly turned up to the extreme and unmistakably influenced by Guy Bourdin's scorching colours, Tim Walker's surrealism edge, and a mash-up of individual inspirations from their background. We have a wide range of interests, including anything from roller rinks to cowboys to South Central [LA] airbrush culture to thrift shops. I learned a lot about the Latin ghetto-fabulous style growing up in South Beach. These exposures taken as a whole are crucial to our job. These ideas helped design eye-catching editorials for The New Yorker, Time, and Vogue that featured everyone from Tyler the Creator to Kim Kardashian.

[elationhq]

hello, beautiful people! we're well aware how intimidating it is to join a roleplay that's been open a month. however, there is no need to feel discouraged. under the read more, you will find a list of premade characters with at least one connection to an established character. if you already play a character in the roleplay, please refrain from taking any of our premade roles! the whole purpose of us creating these is to help new muns connect.

sister to austin bautista (jordan clarkson faceclaim)

(kehlani) wait, hold up! isn’t that the child of baseball player apollo bautista? what’s their name again? oh, yeah, paris bautista. i hear they’re a twenty-seven year old sports photographer living it up in los angeles. i wonder if that rumor about them being a functional alcoholic is true. i know the blogs make them out to be [trait] but they seem so [trait]. (pronouns + tmz)

client to legend thibodeaux (jalen hurts faceclaim)

(tyler lepley) wait, hold up! isn’t that the son of [famous parent occupation + name]? what’s his name again? oh, yeah, character name. i hear he's a thirty-one year old chef/culinary influencer living it up in los angeles. i wonder if that rumor about him republishing other people's recipes as his own is true. i know the blogs make him out to be [trait] but he seems so [trait]. (pronouns + tmz)

estranged friend to olivia st. james (lori harvey faceclaim)

(ben simmons) wait, hold up! isn’t that the son of [film producer + name]? what’s his name again? oh, yeah, character name. i hear he's a twenty-eight year old film director living it up in los angeles. i wonder if that rumor about him mentally mistreating his actors is true. i know the blogs make him out to be [trait] but he seems so [trait]. (pronouns + tmz)

brother to london lewis (brixana faceclaim)

(ruben loftus cheek) wait, hold up! isn’t that the son actress korin lewis? what’s his name again? oh, yeah, first name lewis. i hear he's a twenty-nine year old real estate developer living it up in los angeles. i wonder if that rumor about him being sued for fraud and breach of contract is true. i know the blogs make him out to be [trait] but he seems so [trait]. (pronouns + tmz)

best friend to farrah nadir (maya jama faceclaim)

(iamkaylanicole) wait, hold up! isn’t that the daughter of [famous parent occupation + name]? what’s her name again? oh, yeah, character name. i hear she's a twenty-nine year old fashion columnist living it up in los angeles. i wonder if that rumor about fashion brands paying her to speak positive is true. i know the blogs make her out to be [trait] but he seems so [trait]. (pronouns + tmz)

[criticalbennifer]

A Duo Once More, Ben Affleck, Matt Damon Come Up for ‘Air’

By:  Jake Coyle

April 4, 2023

NEW YORK (AP) — While Ben Affleck and Matt Damon were writing “The Last Duel,” their first screenplay together since their 1997 breakthrough, “Good Will Hunting,” they noticed that something in their winding and usually separate careers had been missing.

“I remember my wife said to me one day: ‘I haven’t heard you laugh like that in 15 years,’” says Damon. “We came out of that experience going: Why aren’t we doing this more often? And getting into your 50s you just go: If we don’t make it a priority, it’s just not going to happen.”

Now, more than 25 years after they set out to make it in Hollywood — so entwined that they once shared a bank account — Affleck and Damon are once again a team. Affleck directs and Damon stars in “Air,” the new film about Nike’s courting of Michael Jordan that opens in theaters Wednesday.

That film, Amazon Studios’ first theatrical release in nearly four years, is only part of their new collaboration. It’s the first release from their new production company, Artists Equity. Affleck is the chief executive, Damon is head of content. Part of its mission is to give prominent crew and cast members a piece of profits.

To Affleck, “Air” — in which the then-upstart Nike pursues a sneaker deal with Jordan while his mother (played by Viola Davis) advocates for his worth — represents what they hope to do with their new company.

“We believe there are a lot of really meaningful artists on the crew who are underappreciated and undervalued and make a huge difference in the quality of the experience in a film,” Affleck said in an interview alongside Damon. “We want to sort of take the approach taken towards Michael Jordan, which is to recognize the artists and say: You’re the ones who deserve to be compensated for this. You’re generating the art, the beauty, the majesty.”

And with “Air,” they may have already generated a hit. The film, which co-stars Jason Bateman, Chris Tucker, Chris Messina and Julius Tennon, has drawn rave reviews since its premiere at SXSW. Amazon was so pleased with it that the streamer decided to give it a nationwide release in theaters.

All of which accounts for some of the reasons why Affleck — despite the “Sad Ben Affleck” memes and viral videos of him looking morose at the Grammys — is genuinely happy. There have certainly been ups and downs; Affleck has previously been candid about past battles with alcoholism. But Affleck now finds himself, as he says, “famously unhappy” despite feeling the opposite.

Those memes? Affleck blames them on out-of-context moments and the result of always having a dozen cameras pointed at him.

“The photograph in isolation looks like: Look at this unhappy fellow,” Affleck says. “But actually, I’m pretty happy. I have a good life. I’m very lucky. Despite the memes. Maybe my resting face leaves something to be desired.”

“You have resting b---- face,” chimes Damon, laughing.

But after a tumultuous run as Batman and another turbulent run in the tabloids, Affleck is back to making the kinds of movies that won him best picture a decade ago, with “Argo.”

The Los Angeles-based Artists Equity is a kind of bookend to the duo’s fabled beginning. They launched it to help set the course for their next chapter (Damon is 52, Affleck 50) and make spending time together more of a requisite. It also allows Affleck to be regularly with his kids from his previous marriage to Jennifer Garner. Last year, he wed Jennifer Lopez.

One person they’ve convinced in their new endeavor is Viola Davis. Though Jordan’s mother was originally a very small role, the NBA legend stressed her importance to the story when meeting with Affleck. Jordan said Davis was the only actor for the part.

Davis recognized what Affleck and Damon were trying to foster. She has her own progressive production company, Juvee Productions, that she runs with her husband, Tennon. (It was behind last year’s “The Woman King.”) Davis calls working on “Air” one of the best experiences of her career.

“What they’re doing is bringing filmmaking back to the artists, which is where it should be,” says Davis. “There are so many obstacles in your path as an artist and the biggest obstacle in your path is the business itself. It sometimes looms in front of you.”

“What they’re doing is what our fantasy is as actors, especially once we’ve reached a certain level,” adds Davis. “We want autonomy and agency.”

Upcoming films for Artists Equity include “The Instigators,” a heist film starring Damon and Casey Affleck, and “Unstoppable,” with Lopez and Jharrel Jerome. Though Lopez’s range has been on display in recent films like “Hustlers,” Hollywood has often seemed unsure of how to utilize her talent.

“I agree with that observation,” says Affleck. “By having a set of expectations thrust upon her, it was inherently limiting. You saw with ‘Hustlers’ she was really able to show what she can do.”

In “Unstoppable,” Affleck says, she plays a part not unlike Davis’ in “Air,” as the mother of a college wrestling champion born with one leg.

“I think she’s in her prime,” says Affleck. “She’s doing extraordinary work in large measure because she’s taking that step to take responsibility for what she’s doing rather than say, ‘This is what I’m being offered.’”

The notion of personal branding is at the center of “Air.” Nike at the time was a distant third to Converse and Adidas, but its executives hit on a concept that would presage much of what’s since followed in marketing: The shoe wouldn’t just worn by Jordan but epitomize him. Now, Affleck notes, people take for granted that they’re brands.

“I’ve always found that idea confusing and kind of anathema. People are very complicated and contrary and nuanced, and brands are simple,” says Affleck. “So the idea that a person can be a brand is a hard thing for me to reconcile. I’ve never been good at it or had interest in it. Obviously, Michael’s brand — excellence, greatness, majesty — if you’re going to have a brand, that’s one to have.”

But the Damon-Affleck brand — if that is a thing — is doing alright. There have been plenty of hiccups along the way for both stars. But the notion of them as a creative duo and two of Hollywood’s fastest friends has endured. Who hasn’t dreamed of making it in the movies with their best pal? There’s affection for them because they have affection for one another.

“Air” did present one new twist in their persisting partnership, though: For the first time, Affleck was directing Damon. It recently dawned on Affleck that the whole tenor of the project was due partly to Damon’s support of him as the director.

“It was a very gracious and kind gesture that’s characteristic of how Matt’s treated me, and this friendship, his whole life,” says Affleck. “It’s like why you have good friends. When things like this happen, you almost don’t even notice that they’ve made the right choice and been gracious. It’s a testament to why we are still friends. I know it’s not me.”

Damon, not missing a beat, smiles. “I only undermined you behind your back.”

[xtruss]

Is the F.B.I. Truly Biased Against Trump?

An agent turned whistle-blower claims that the Bureau was eager to investigate Hunter Biden—but protected Rudy Giuliani.

— By David D. Kirkpatrick | August 14, 2023

Collage Illustration of Rudy Giuliani Hunter Biden and the FBI logo. Illustration by Nicholas Konrad/The New Yorker; Source Photographs From Getty Images

Special Agent Johnathan Buma, of the Los Angeles office of the Federal Bureau of Investigation, holds a unique perspective on the origin of two interconnected political scandals. A former biochemist who was trained in Russian by the agency, Buma has spent fifteen years cultivating human sources in investigations of money laundering, public corruption, and foreign attempts to influence elections. In January, 2019, information from one of Buma’s sources set in motion the Bureau’s first inquiries into potential undisclosed lobbying and tax evasion by Hunter Biden—President Joe Biden’s son and, at the time, a director of the Ukrainian company Burisma. Buma also played a pivotal role in a Bureau investigation into possibly illegal foreign-lobbying activity and campaign-finance violations by Rudy Giuliani, former President Donald Trump’s personal lawyer, who oversaw a sprawling effort to dig up dirt on Hunter Biden’s Ukrainian ties.

Earlier this year, Buma watched with keen interest as the Republican-led House Judiciary Committee geared up for public hearings into the Biden Administration’s alleged political “weaponizing” of the F.B.I. The Republicans claimed that the Bureau had relentlessly pursued former President Trump and his allies while neglecting leads about the Bidens. (In January, Representative Jim Jordan, the Ohio Republican who chairs the committee, complained on “Meet the Press” that, although agents had “raided Trump’s home,” they hadn’t “raided Biden’s home.”) In April, Buma reached out to Jordan’s office, offering public testimony as a whistle-blower. He later gave a detailed phone interview to two former federal agents whom the committee had hired to investigate what its conservative members call “the Biden family business.”

The Republicans, however, were in no rush to publicize what Buma had to say—perhaps because his account ran against their preferred story line. Buma said that, during the Trump Administration, Bureau officials hardly covered up for the Bidens: his fellow-agents jumped on any new scrap of information about Hunter’s foreign business dealings, even though the resulting investigation never produced evidence of illegal corruption. Instead, in Buma’s telling, agency leaders had moved repeatedly to squash his investigation of possible Russian and Ukrainian ties to Giuliani. Not only did the Trump Administration Attorney General William Barr appear to shut down an active investigation of Giuliani in 2020; Buma has charged that, even under the Biden Administration, agency overseers seemed determined to silence some of the most important sources feeding his Giuliani reporting.

Three months after he approached the House Republicans, Buma laid out his account of events in a twenty-two-page statement, and on July 15th he presented it to the Democratic-led Senate Judiciary Committee. By mid-2020, he wrote, his reporting about Giuliani had “produced acute anxiety” within the New York and Los Angeles field offices, “coupled with an urgent desire to shut off my sources and me. . . . As their efforts to suppress this investigative work escalated, my direct management specifically told me in writing that I was no longer allowed to do any reporting related to public corruption, criminal matters, anyone in the White House, and any former or current associates of President Trump.”

It is well known that Giuliani tried to solicit damaging information from Ukraine about the Bidens. By the summer of 2020—when Barr in effect scuttled Buma’s Giuliani investigation—two men who were linked to Giuliani’s effort, Lev Parnas and Igor Fruman, had been arrested for violating campaign-finance laws, including by funnelling illegal contributions into a Trump political-action committee while simultaneously working to advance the interests of a Ukrainian official. (Parnas and Fruman, who were also in league with a Kremlin-linked Ukrainian prosecutor, both went to prison.) Giuliani has acknowledged receiving payments from a Ukrainian oligarch, Pavel Fuks, who made his fortune in Russia. According to Buma’s statement, the Bureau believed that Fuks was likely a “co-opted asset” of Russian intelligence. (In a 2019 interview, Fuks told the Times that he had paid Giuliani to be a “lobbyist”; Giuliani denied that, saying that Fuks paid him only to provide security and image consulting to the Ukrainian city of Kharkiv.) Last year, federal prosecutors in New York disclosed that they were dropping a years-old investigation of Giuliani, centering on possibly illegal foreign lobbying, without filing charges.

Buma can only speculate about the motives behind the interference that he claims to have experienced once his investigation touched on Giuliani’s ties to Russia and Ukraine. Buma’s statement to the Senate Judiciary Committee suggests that some of the internal resistance might have emanated from Charles McGonigal, a former special agent in charge of counterintelligence in the New York office. McGonigal is suspected of acting as a Russian mole. (He has been charged with accepting hundreds of thousands of dollars in illicit payments from a former foreign intelligence official while employed by the Bureau and then, after his retirement, concealing other payments from the Russian oligarch Oleg Deripaska. McGonigal initially pleaded not guilty, but the judge in his case has since indicated that McGonigal may change his plea.) But McGonigal retired in 2018, before most of the events recounted in Buma’s statement. And Buma’s account of his blackballing involves too many figures across the F.B.I. hierarchy to be the retaliation of any single operative, or even of a clique. Bureaucratic self-interest may be a more plausible explanation: the agency, afraid of political blowback from Republicans hunting for evidence of bias in favor of the Bidens, may have sacrificed a promising investigation because it veered too close to President Trump’s inner circle. If so, Republicans’ recurring complaint that the Bureau is a “deep state” agency “weaponized” against them may have actually won them a soft touch.

During his years at the Bureau, Buma earned repeated commendations for his zeal and resourcefulness in investigations of the illicit export of military technology, international money laundering, and foreign attempts to influence United States elections. His performance reviews, some of which I have read, also make clear that he has flaws. He has a fluttering attention span, which is sometimes reflected in his paperwork. He may have violated agency rules in seemingly minor ways—by being in contact with sources abroad without proper clearance, or by using his personal car for government business. He also got into a dispute with his supervisors about whether he had broken protocols about encrypted communication over personal electronic devices. It is evident that Buma has sometimes pushed back hard against criticism or direction from above. But none of that feedback indicates gross incompetence or self-dealing. In Buma’s statement to the Senate committee, he noted that he has a “clean record,” with no disciplinary actions against him. He retains a top-secret security clearance.

Although I obtained his statement independently, it recently became public because a conservative blogger had also obtained it, and posted it online, seemingly in an attempt to preëmpt the Senate committee. (The blogger, bizarrely, appended a PDF of the statement to a wholly unrelated post about Israeli influence in Washington.) Scott Horton, a lawyer for Buma, called the leak “unfortunate” and said that his client declined to comment at this time. “We are at the outset of a sensitive and confidential process,” Horton told me. The F.B.I., which has had a copy of Buma’s statement for weeks, also declined to comment, as did a spokeswoman for the Senate committee. A spokesperson for the House Judiciary Committee said that it was “still weighing” what Buma had told its staff, “as we do with all whistle-blowers.” Giuliani did not respond to requests for comment, and neither did a lawyer for Fuks.

Buma’s story centers on his relationship with a confidential source whom he refers to by the code name Dynamo. The source, who told me that he corroborated Buma’s account, is a businessman well connected in both Eastern European and American political circles. In January, 2019, Dynamo arranged to bring two Ukrainian associates to Los Angeles. One represented himself as a former Ukrainian agent of the K.G.B. and the other as an academic researcher hired by the former agent. At a meeting in the office of the U.S. Attorney for Los Angeles, they described multiple supposed instances of money laundering and corruption over the previous five years. One of their allegations—as yet unsubstantiated—focussed on unreported lobbying by Hunter Biden, who, while his father was Vice-President, had reportedly received payments of about six hundred thousand dollars a year as a Burisma board member. Another allegation, also unsubstantiated, involved money laundering by George Soros, the billionaire investor and liberal donor. Other information that they presented came with more credible backup, but Buma wrote in his statement that, at the time, he suspected the presentation of being an attempt by Russian intelligence agencies “to push derogatory information into the U.S. Intelligence Community (U.S.I.C.) that would give the opposing political party, which had been shown to be favored by RIS”—Russian Intelligence Services—“a narrative to attack the character of Joseph R. Biden.”

Despite those doubts, Buma shared the information with two Baltimore-based F.B.I. agents who were working on an investigation of Hunter Biden, centered mostly on “drugs and prostitution.” The Baltimore agents “were very interested,” Buma wrote. “My supervisors were delighted that I had collected this information about Burisma, notwithstanding the obvious political sensitivity of the subject matter, and I was later asked to present my findings to the Assistant Director in Charge” at the Los Angeles field office, Paul Delacourt, on October 1, 2019. Similar accusations about Hunter Biden soon appeared in the U.S. media, suggesting that other Ukrainian sources were also pushing the Burisma corruption narrative to the press. (Last week, after a plea deal fell apart, Attorney General Merrick Garland appointed a special counsel to pursue different charges against Hunter Biden, for failing to pay taxes and for possessing a gun while he was using illegal drugs.)

Dynamo, though, also gave Buma information about Giuliani—noting, among other things, that Giuliani had received as much as three hundred thousand dollars from Fuks, the Ukrainian oligarch. But when Buma tried to bring up the Giuliani allegations in a meeting, Delacourt, the assistant director, “forcefully interrupted me and ended my presentation,” he wrote in the statement. Buma added, “In 2020 and 2021, it became increasingly apparent to me that my reporting on Fuks and his ties to Giuliani was negatively received by my superiors, who were eager for the flow of information about Fuks and his relationship with Giuliani to stop.” (Delacourt told me that he did not recall meeting Buma or having any conversation with him about Giuliani.)

Buma also wrote that, within a few months of the January, 2019, meeting, the Trump White House had taken an unexpected interest in Dynamo. On June 26, 2019, Buma recalled in his statement, he received a request from the White House “for any/all information related to the true name of my most sensitive confidential source, Dynamo.” The Los Angeles field office declined to share anything about Dynamo with the White House, feeling that it was essential to protect the identity of a public-corruption source from White House officials who might themselves become investigative targets.

Though Buma suspected that the information presented at the January meeting in Los Angeles included some Russian disinformation, he nonetheless believed that in other matters Dynamo was making contributions “of epic proportions” that helped expose public corruption and counter Russian influence. Information from Dynamo had identified several unregistered foreign agents, initiated a major money-laundering investigation that resulted in two indictments in Florida, and provided information leading to sanctions against the Ukrainian oligarch Ihor Kolomoisky. Dynamo, Buma wrote, had actively assisted the Bureau: he had personally “engaged in risky covert operations” in support of “numerous” F.B.I investigations, helped recruit informants in several other countries, and provided “extensive intelligence” about Russia and Ukraine.

During the same period, in 2019 and 2020, Rudy Giuliani reached out to Dynamo. Two people familiar with Buma’s investigation told me that, at a meeting in California, Giuliani sought to enlist Dynamo in an effort to make a documentary film about Hunter Biden’s role in Ukrainian corruption. A circle of Republican activists were paying Giuliani to make an online movie that they hoped would expose the Ukrainian corruption allegations in order to damage the Bidens. Their goal was for Trump to tweet a link to the film shortly before the 2020 election, effectively turning the documentary into a campaign attack ad.

According to the people familiar with the case, Dynamo reported to Buma that the activists also sought foreign investors—which raised additional questions about whether the money being solicited for the film would be tantamount to an undisclosed campaign contribution. At Buma’s behest, the F.B.I. then sent two undercover operatives posing as Russian gangsters to offer to invest in the film, and the ruse helped flush out two corrupt federal agents. (The two agents, who were unaware of the sting, did an improper favor for the activists by using internal computer systems to search for information about the fake gangsters.) In June, 2021, F.B.I. agents raided the California home of George Dickson III, the founder of a marijuana company who had reportedly worked with Giuliani to raise money for the film, potentially including from foreign investors. (A lawyer for Giuliani has said that neither he nor Dickson solicited money for the film from foreign citizens.) In the end, the documentary never materialized.

Buma said in his statement that, even though his interactions with Dynamo were yielding indictments and fruitful intelligence, his work came under growing pressure as it touched on Giuliani. “In the midst of my reporting involving Giuliani, which had previously been identified by my superiors as ‘high impact,’ my management told me that they received a call from a supervisor” in the New York field office, Buma wrote. The unnamed supervisor “had taken issue with my reporting and work”—without explanation—and after the middle of 2019 Buma’s superiors “started suppressing my reporting in an increasingly aggressive fashion.”

He added, “While I do not know exactly what had raised alarms, the conduct of my superiors and the timing of their actions made plain that reporting concerning Giuliani and a group of people surrounding him with existing or historical ties to the Bureau gave rise to this retaliatory action.”

In early 2020, the two agents from the New York field office who had investigated Parnas and Fruman learned about the Los Angeles office’s reporting on Giuliani, and reached out to Buma to coördinate their inquiries. That summer, under the oversight of Geoffrey Berman, the U.S. Attorney for the Southern District of New York, Buma arranged for “a cooperating witness” to secretly tape conversations between Giuliani and Ukrainian officials as Giuliani looked for dirt on Hunter Biden and pursued the film project. After one day of recording, Berman was abruptly fired by William Barr. This effectively ended the Giuliani operation.

Berman later wrote a book, “Holding the Line,” in which he argued that his termination was the culmination of a political-pressure campaign to investigate Trump’s opponents and protect Trump’s friends. Berman did not link his firing to any ongoing Giuliani investigation but wrote that Barr “no doubt believed that by removing me he could eliminate a threat to Trump’s re-election.” Barr, who offered an unflattering portrait of Giuliani in his own book, did not respond to requests for comment.

Buma moved on to other projects, eventually cultivating sources related to the January 6, 2021, riot at the Capitol. Yet he wrote in his statement that he felt internal pressure to cease contact with one of the best of those sources. According to Buma, the ostensible reason was racist statements that the source had posted online, even though such overt racism was part of what enabled the source “to infiltrate various tightly knit, dangerous and violent fringe groups.” By the beginning of 2022, Buma felt so thwarted by his superiors that he filed a whistle-blower complaint with the Bureau, complaining of what he described as unjustified reprisals and efforts to thwart legitimate investigation.

According to Buma’s statement, shortly after Russia invaded Ukraine, on February 24, 2022, he was told to terminate relations with one of his most valuable sources in that field, Dynamo. The order came from both his supervisors and the F.B.I.’s Foreign Influence Task Force, and, per Buma, superiors told him that the shutdown of Dynamo was based on “highly classified information from the National Security Agency” which he could not access. They also said that it was part of a broader effort, around the time of the invasion, to close off many “sources related to Russia/Ukraine matters.”

Judging from the tone of Buma’s statement, he had become convinced that the demand to sever ties with Dynamo was another part of a shadowy conspiracy to protect Giuliani, even at the cost of depriving American officials of potential information about the unfolding war. “I believe that the intelligence that was suppressed could easily have influenced U.S. decisions surrounding the conflict.”

As of yet, there’s no firm evidence to suggest that the F.B.I.’s goal in cutting off Dynamo in 2022 was to protect Giuliani or anyone else. It is impossible from the whistle-blower statement alone to rule out that the Bureau had other concerns about Dynamo or Buma, or that they were retaliating against Buma for filing his whistle-blower complaint. This past fall, Buma wrote, his supervisors removed him entirely from managing any confidential human sources. He was reassigned to operate from the field full time, far from any office or even any computer, “working on surveillance missions with no relevance to my area of specialization of training.” ♦