My Life in Hollywood C48 The Ripple Effect (Patreon)

The kiss between Marcus and Arya had been unexpected, shocking, and undeniably hot.

This was a junior prom, not some private after-party. Making out wasn't exactly scandalous for teenagers their age—but that? That had been something else entirely. Raw. Honest. The kind of kiss that made people uncomfortable because it felt too real.

Even the chaperones had paused mid-patrol, exchanging glances like they weren't sure whether to intervene or pretend they hadn't seen anything.

More eyes lingered on Marcus and Arya now. But neither of them felt ashamed.

Why would they? There was nothing wrong with what happened. If anything, half the room was jealous.

The crowd eventually returned to their own conversations, their own dates, their own watered-down fruit punch. But the ripple effect lingered.

Frank had retreated with his bruised ego. Alisha and Ellie, visibly devastated, slipped out of the party early without a word to their dates.

And then there was Ryan—who approached the couple with wide eyes and an expression caught somewhere between shock and admiration.

"You two..." He shook his head slowly. "I never expected you to kiss like that. Like you've been together for years." He gestured vaguely at them. "You just out-coupeled me, and I'm the one with an actual girlfriend."

Marcus chuckled. "I'm just as surprised. Didn't know Arya had it in her."

Arya's face flushed. She gave his shoulder a playful slap. "Stop it," she muttered, voice small.

Ryan wasn't done. "The dancing. The kiss. All in one night." His eyebrows waggled suggestively. "What's next? Don't tell me you two already booked a hotel room nearby."

"Ryan!" Arya bit her lower lip, mortified. "You're so gross."

But even as she said it, her mind wandered somewhere she wasn't proud of. The heat of his body. The taste of his mouth. What it might feel like to—

She shut that thought down. Hard.

"Gross? As if what you two just did wasn't?" Ryan laughed, clearly enjoying himself.

"Alright, alright." Marcus sighed. "Lay off her."

Truth was, he still felt it too. The ghost of her lips on his. The softness of her pressed against him. His body hadn't fully cooled down yet, and part of him wanted nothing more than to drag her somewhere quiet and pick up where they left off.

But he wasn't about to say that out loud.

"Whatever you say, man." Ryan took a long sip of his fruit punch. "Anyway, I'm heading back to my girlfriend. Gonna try to recreate what you two just did."

"Good luck with that," Marcus said, amused.

Ryan gave them a lazy salute and wandered off.

Alone again, Marcus turned to Arya. She met his gaze—and the heat returned instantly. That electric tension that hadn't fully dissipated.

Her heart hammered against her ribs.

Marcus leaned in, his breath warm against her ear. "So... any chance we do that again?"

His voice was low. Teasing. But there was an edge to it that made her stomach flip.

Arya's cheeks burned crimson. "I-If you want to."

Marcus blinked.

He hadn't expected that answer.

This wasn't the Arya he knew—the innocent, sweet girl who blushed at compliments and stammered when flustered. This version of her was bolder. More honest. And it was doing things to him he wasn't prepared for.

But he wasn't going to take advantage of that.

"I'm just messing with you," he said softly, pulling back slightly. "Tonight's been a lot. We should save something for next time, yeah?"

He meant it. As much as his body wanted more, he didn't want to push her into something she might regret in the morning. That kiss had already been more than he ever expected from her. He wasn't going to be greedy.

Besides—he wasn't exactly boyfriend material right now. Not with everything on his plate.

"I see..." Arya's voice was quiet. Disappointed, maybe. But she understood.

As much as she wanted more, Marcus had a point. This was already more than she'd ever imagined happening tonight. Pushing further might ruin it.

So they let the moment settle.

The rest of the night passed in a warm blur—more dancing, more drinks, more laughter with friends. They moved through the party together, comfortable in each other's presence in a way that felt different now. Charged. Like something had shifted between them that couldn't be undone.

Around 9 PM, they decided to call it.

Marcus led her out of the banquet hall, his hand resting lightly on the small of her back as they walked toward the rented Mercedes waiting in the lot.

---ʕ⁠´⁠•⁠ᴥ⁠•⁠`⁠ʔ---

The next morning, Marcus woke up around 8 AM.

Late by his usual standards, but there was no school today. No rush.

He knocked out a few Daily Quests—making breakfast, tidying up, the usual routine stuff that padded his points. Then he threw on some workout clothes and went for a quick jog around the neighborhood.

The memory of last night still lingered. Arya's lips. The way she'd melted into him. The look on everyone's faces afterward.

He couldn't help but smile.

By the time he arrived at Crown Entertainment Studio, he was in a damn good mood.

Inside, the Modern Family set was already buzzing with activity. Crew members adjusted lights and checked equipment while cast members ran lines in corners. Nathan stood near the craft services table, coffee in hand, chatting with Timothy and Julia.

"Well, well, well." Nathan spotted his son and grinned wide. "Look who decided to grace us with his presence. The man of the hour."

A few crew members glanced over. Someone whistled.

Marcus slowed his steps, eyes narrowing. "What's going on?"

"Hehe, don't play innocent with me." Nathan's grin turned shit-eating. "Word travels fast, kid. Your little performance at junior prom is all over the place."

Marcus stared at him. "...What?"

"The kiss, genius." Nathan pulled out his phone and turned the screen toward him. "Facebook. You're tagged and everything."

Marcus looked at the photo—him and Arya, mid-kiss, her fingers in his hair, his hand on the small of her back. Clearly taken by some classmate who'd been quick on the trigger.

'Are you kidding me?'

Timothy leaned over to get a look at the screen and let out a low whistle. "Damn, Marcus. That's not a prom kiss. That's a 'get a room' kiss."

Julia peered at the photo too, eyebrows raised. "Oh my. That's quite... passionate." She glanced at Marcus with an amused smile. "Young love, huh?"

"How the hell did you even see this?" Marcus asked Nathan, ignoring the commentary.

"I'm friends with some of your friends on Facebook." Nathan laughed, way too pleased with himself. "Ryan posted it. Tagged you and everything. Nice work, son!"

Marcus pinched the bridge of his nose. Of course Ryan did.

"It was just a kiss," he muttered. "Not a big deal."

"Just a kiss, he says." Nathan snorted. "Kid, I saw the photo. That wasn't 'just a kiss.' That was a goddamn movie scene."

"Seriously," Timothy chimed in, shaking his head with a grin. "I've done on-screen kisses that had less heat than that. You sure you're not secretly an actor?"

Julia nodded in agreement. "If we need any romantic chemistry on set, maybe we should take notes from you."

"You guys are hilarious," Marcus deadpanned.

"We try." Timothy took a sip of his coffee, still smirking. "So who's the lucky girl? She your girlfriend?"

"Just a friend," Marcus said.

Nathan barked out a laugh. "Friends don't kiss like that, son."

"He's got a point," Julia added gently. "That photo doesn't exactly scream 'platonic.'"

Timothy clapped Marcus on the shoulder. "Word of advice from someone who's been around—if a girl kisses you like that, she's not thinking 'friend.' Trust me."

Marcus sighed. There was no winning this conversation. "Can we get back to work now? We do have a show to shoot."

"Deflecting. Classic move." Nathan grinned but waved him off. "Alright, alright. Go on. But we're not done talking about this."

"Looking forward to it," Marcus muttered sarcastically as he walked away.

He scanned the room—and spotted Lana sitting alone in a corner, script in hand, seemingly absorbed in her reading.

'Shit. If everyone here knows, she definitely knows too.'

His reputation as a player was going to catch up with him sooner than expected.

He made his way over and dropped into the chair across from her. "Hey. How's it going?"

Lana didn't look up from her script. "Heard you had a fun night."

"...Yeah." No point denying it.

"Mmhm." She turned a page, still not meeting his eyes. Then she set the script down, glanced around to make sure no one was within earshot, and leaned in slightly.

"So," she whispered, a hint of something playful in her voice, "you kissed some girl at prom. How'd it compare to us?"

Marcus blinked. He'd expected bitterness. Maybe jealousy. Not... this.

"Uh..." He rubbed the back of his neck. "Hard to say. Both experiences had their own... charm, I guess?"

"Such a safe answer." Lana rolled her eyes.

Marcus chuckled, leaning back. "Well, I'd need a refresher to give you a proper comparison—"

"Not happening." Lana cut him off without hesitation. "I told you. That was a one-time thing. My way of saying thank you. Nothing more."

"I figured." Marcus shrugged, unbothered. "Guess we'll never know, then."

Lana didn't take the bait. Her focus had already shifted back to the script in front of her.

Marcus could tell—she was locked in. Professional mode. Whatever was or wasn't between them, it wasn't going to distract her from the work.

He respected that.

"Anyway," he said, shifting gears, "the show's been picking up steam lately. Subscriber count's climbing."

Lana looked at him properly now. "Yeah? That's good to hear. I've been checking the forums—people are actually talking about it."

"They're talking about you," Marcus corrected. "Haley's becoming a fan favorite. I've seen comments calling you the breakout star."

Lana's expression softened, just a little. "That's... nice to hear."

"It's the truth. You're doing great work." He meant it. Whatever complicated feelings existed between them, her talent wasn't up for debate.

She studied him for a moment, then allowed a small smile. "Thanks, Marcus."

"Don't mention it."

Lana picked up the pages and waved him off. "Now go bother someone else. I'm busy."

Marcus grinned and walked away.

---ʕ⁠´⁠•⁠ᴥ⁠•⁠`⁠ʔ---

After visiting the set, Marcus headed to Netflicks.

The moment he walked in, he spotted a familiar figure waiting outside his office. Diana Stone. Arya's older sister. And his legal counsel.

She stood with her arms crossed, looking every bit the sharp attorney she was—fitted blazer, heels, an expression that said she had words for him.

"Diana." Marcus approached cautiously. "Need something?"

'If Nathan knew about the kiss, there's no way she doesn't...'

Sure enough, Diana's eyes narrowed. She stepped toward him with a deliberate sway, closing the distance.

"Look at you," she said coolly. "The lucky guy himself. Did you have fun playing with my sister's heart last night?"

Marcus held up his hands. "Playing with her heart? Why would I do that?"

"Don't give me that innocent act." Diana tilted her head. "I remember the first time we met. The way you looked at me. The little comments." She stepped closer. "I know a player when I see one, Marcus. And I'm telling you now—don't mess with Arya."

Marcus couldn't help the slight smirk that tugged at his lips. "Is this the overprotective big sister talk?"

Diana caught the amusement in his tone. Her jaw tightened, but she didn't rise to the bait. "Call it whatever you want. Just make sure you get the message."

"Loud and clear, counselor."

She held his gaze for another moment, then stepped back. "Good. Now—I actually do have some contracts for you to review." She handed him a folder. "Try to focus on work for once."

Marcus took it with a nod. "Yes ma'am."

Diana walked off, heels clicking against the floor.

Marcus slipped into his office and dropped into his chair, massaging his forehead.

It was just a kiss. One kiss. And he was already facing consequences from multiple directions.

"Give it some time," he muttered to himself. "Diana will forget about it. Things will go back to normal."

---…⁠ᘛ⁠⁐̤⁠ᕐ⁠ᐷ---

Days went by.

And Marcus was right. The prom drama faded into background noise, and business took center stage.

By the end of April, Netflicks officially crossed $1 million in monthly revenue. By May, that number kept climbing.

The name Modern Family was spreading across California—and that mattered more than most people realized. California wasn't just any state. It was the entertainment capital of the country.

Audiences here were show-savvy, trend-conscious, and hungry for fresh content. When something good came along—whether on cable or this new streaming concept—Californians paid attention.

And they were paying attention now.

Word spread that some unknown production company called Crown Entertainment Films had quietly released a sitcom on Netflicks that was outperforming UBA's flagship comedy, The Lawsons. A show with a fraction of the budget was pulling bigger buzz than a major network's primetime bet.

Entertainment blogs and major outlets picked up the story—and they weren't just reporting on it. They were reviewing it.

The Hollywood Reporter wrote: "Modern Family does what The Lawsons has been failing to do for weeks—it makes you actually care about the characters. The mockumentary format feels fresh, the humor lands without a laugh track telling you when to chuckle, and the family dynamics feel genuine rather than..."

Variety chimed in: "We never thought we'd say this, but a streaming sitcom just embarrassed network television. Modern Family's writing is sharper, its cast has better chemistry, and it takes creative risks that UBA would never greenlight. If this is what streaming originals look like..."

Even Entertainment Weekly weighed in: "Forget the laugh tracks and predictable setups—Modern Family proves that comedy works best when it trusts its audience. The Dunphy family feels lived-in and real in ways that The Lawsons' characters simply don't."

The coverage drove even more curiosity. People who'd never heard of Netflicks were suddenly signing up just to see what the fuss was about.

From the looks of things, the revenue from Modern Family would soon surpass even Naruto. That made sense—anime was still niche in America, but sitcoms were comfort food. Familiar. Easy to consume. The kind of thing people binged without thinking.

By the fifth episode, Netflicks hit $1.47 million in monthly revenue.

Granted, they hadn't recouped the full production budget yet—studio prep, crew salaries, equipment rentals all added up. And if they greenlit a second season, costs would only increase. Actors would want raises. Production value expectations would rise.

But for now? Netflicks was raking in profit, riding the advantage of cheap casting and lean operations.

Five episodes of an original show, and it had already made this much impact.

But that wasn't even the biggest surprise.

Subscriptions weren't the only revenue stream anymore.

The advertisers who'd been pumping money into UBA's The Lawsons had taken notice of Modern Family. And they weren't just noticing—they were jumping ship.

Offers started rolling into Netflicks. Car brands. Phone companies. Consumer goods. Sponsors who'd been backing UBA's primetime lineup were now knocking on Marcus's door, checkbooks in hand, eager to get their products featured in the Dunphy household.

The exodus hit UBA hard.

Without advertiser support, The Lawsons was bleeding money. The ratings had already been in freefall. Now, with sponsors pulling out, the math simply didn't work anymore.

Rumors started circulating in industry circles. Then the leaks hit the press.

Deadline reported: "UBA's The Lawsons Facing Cancellation After Advertiser Exodus—Network Sitcom Loses Ground to Unknown Streaming Show..."

The Hollywood Reporter followed up: "Sources confirm UBA executives are in emergency meetings regarding the future of The Lawsons. The show, once positioned as the network's flagship comedy, has seen ratings plummet and sponsors flee to rival content—including, sources say, a sitcom streaming on a website called Netflicks..."

A major network show—backed by millions in budget and decades of industry infrastructure—was about to get cancelled.