DOS Ch-336

Reddit practically exploded that morning.

u/plainfullyobvious:
OMG! You won’t believe this! Troy Armitage was spotted rushing into Cedars-Sinai Medical Center yesterday evening. It’s almost certain that Scarlett went into labor a little early. What do you guys think? Will it be a boy, or a girl who succeeds Harry Potter and the Joker?

Within minutes, the thread began filling up with reactions.

u/HufflepuffLeftBehind:
Imagine being born and your dad is Troy Armitage. No pressure, kid. Just inherit the fandoms of Harry Potter and the Joker, billions of dollars, tens of companies, and a lot of expectations to be just like Troy. 😭

u/PRWatchdog:
Until there’s an official statement, take this with a grain of salt. It could be anything medical-related, like a routine checkup.
(But yeah… probably babies.)

u/MethodActingMadness:
Wait! I remember Troy saying in an interview that they were expecting in September. Was he lying, or is this news fake? It’s June, for God’s sake!

u/OldHollywoodInsider:
Yeah, he probably lied to avoid the media circus. Makes sense. If it were my family, I’d want the same privacy. I think we should all give Troy and his family some space and wait for official confirmation from his PR team.

For nearly two hours, the thread refreshed faster than most could read. Different people from across the world were sharing their opinions on the news. Then came the update that brought everything to a halt.

u/plainfullyobvious:
It’s confirmed! Here’s the statement from Troy’s PR team, posted on both of his major social media platforms as well: Twitter and Instagram.

“Scarlett and I have been blessed with two beautiful baby boys a little earlier than expected. They’re currently in intensive care because of the nature of the birth, but there’s no need to worry. They’re in some of the most capable hands in the world. We’d appreciate privacy during this time.”

The tone of the discussion shifted instantly from gossip to stunned excitement.

u/PRWatchdog:
Whoa! So it’s true! Just imagine how much any media house would pay for a photo of the twins.

u/popculturearchivist:
They don’t do that anymore. And thank God for that. These days, photos of babies can be published only with parental consent, and considering how wealthy Troy is, there’s no way he’d ever sell pictures of his kids.

u/ArmitageStan4Life:
Troy would probably kill someone if they took his kids’ photos without permission. That man’s a cold-blooded killer. In a good way.
(If you’re reading this, Troy, congratulations!)

The flood of comments on other social media didn’t slow down. If anything, the confirmation seemed to open the gates wider, drawing in fans from every corner of the internet. Excitement, humor, disbelief, and the occasional conspiracy theory all collided in one endlessly refreshing thread.

u/SereneDreamer:
Scarlett gave birth to twin boys! I’m so happy for Troy and her! I hope they get out of the NICU and into their home soon. All my best wishes and love to the family of two turned four!

u/NovaKnight:
Doctor: “Yer a father, Harry!”
Troy: “No, I’m not! I. Am. Not! I’m the Joker!”

Lol. Jokes apart, I feel ecstatic knowing that our supreme leader finally has an heir and a spare.

u/LunaBliss:
I feel so old knowing that the little boy I grew up watching on the big screen is finally a father of two while I’m yet to have a single long-lasting relationship.

u/PatAttack:
It was like a gut punch when I found out Scarlett was pregnant, and even more so knowing the babies are already here. Seriously, as much as I love him, I didn’t expect Troy to stick with one woman long enough to have kids with her, and propose marriage to her at 21. He’s almost too good to be a celebrity.

u/TinFoilHatExpert:
Could it be possible that the kids aren’t even Troy’s? I remember an interview where he said they were expecting in September. Sure, he could’ve lied to protect his kids, but is it possible Scarlett lied to him about the dates and the babies aren’t his?

u/SereneDreamer:
Are you high, @TinFoilHatExpert? Don’t you think a billionaire like Troy would be one step ahead of that? Do you know how many women claimed just in the last year that they were pregnant with, or had birthed, Troy’s child? Too many to count. Most billionaires avoid inheritance drama by getting a DNA test done quickly.

u/PatAttack:
It’s a little messed up, (and I would totally freak out if my boyfriend asked for a paternity test,) but that’s the life of a billionaire, I guess.

(Break)

Steve Carell studied Troy as if seeing him for the first time.

He could still picture the teenager he had worked with during the summer of 2005 on [Little Miss Sunshine]. Back then, Troy had been talented, focused, and wise beyond his years. Not to mention, far too much in love with a different girl.

But this version of Troy, standing outside the NICU with quiet confidence and a protective arm wrapped around his fiance, felt entirely different.

Fatherhood suited him.

And suddenly, Steve felt old. Way too old.

“I’m so happy for you two,” Emily said warmly, pulling Troy and Scarlett into a tight three-way hug. 

“I can already see the resemblance,” Emily continued, her voice dropping instinctively as if not to disturb the sleeping newborns beyond the glass. “They’re like miniature versions of Troy. Same eyes, same hair, and the same nose. Watching them sleep so peacefully is adorable.”

“Thank you, Emily,” Scarlett beamed. “Though keep in mind that newborns’ hair and eyes change color in the initial months.”

She had recovered significantly in the week since the delivery, though she still leaned comfortably into Troy for support. He adjusted his stance without thinking, as if they were already married for years.

“They’ve been a blessing for us,” Scarlett said softly. “They held on to dear life on Saturday, and the moment the clock struck twelve, we received our little gifts. Right on Father’s Day.”

“I hadn’t even realized what day it was,” Troy admitted with a grin. “Not until Scarlett pointed it out.”

Steve glanced through the NICU window again. Only two bassinets occupied the private room, each bathed in gentle light doctors used for preemies. It must be nice being a billionaire and having access to a private NICU ward. If he had to guess, Troy had probably made a sizeable donation to ensure their privacy from the general public.

When Steve’s own son had been in the NICU, he’d shared the space with half a dozen anxious families, all clinging to hope.

“So,” Steve said, turning back to them, “have you finalized the names?”

“We have,” Troy replied, a proud grin spreading across his face. “The older one is Atlas Karsten Armitage, and the younger is Damian Steven Armitage.”

“Greek origins?” Steve asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Yup,” Troy said. “Since I’m named after the famed city of Troy, I figured I’d continue the tradition. Unfortunately, most Greek names either have terrible backstories or are terrible people, so I chose Atlas who was known for his strength and resilience. For the middle names, Scarlett and I honored our respective fathers.”

“I picked Damian,” Scarlett added happily. “Troy wanted to name him Hadrian until I pointed out that it would probably lead to the nickname Harry. I don’t want any of my kids teased for being Harry Potter’s son named Harry.”

Emily laughed softly at that. “I love Atlas and Damian. They’re absolutely perfect names.”

“Thanks, Em,” Troy said with a nod before his expression grew more serious. “Scarlett and I were talking, and if it’s alright with you, we’d like you to be Atlas’s godmother.”

Emily’s hand flew to her chest, her eyes glistening. “It would be my absolute honor.”

Troy smiled. “You’ll share that responsibility with Scarlett’s brother, Hunter. He’ll be the godfather.”

“What about Damian?” Emily asked.

“Evan and Taylor are taking that role.”

The conversation drifted into excited speculation about future ceremonies and parties, family traditions, and who the boys might resemble as they grew older.

Then Steve remembered why he had come.

“Troy,” he interrupted gently, “can we talk for a few minutes? It won’t take long.”

“Sure, man. What’s up?” Troy asked casually before glancing toward Scarlett and Emily. “It’s fine. I trust them completely, unless it’s something personal for you?”

Steve sighed quietly. This wasn’t how he wanted to bring it up, not here, not with two newborns lying just beyond the glass. But it wasn’t exactly personal either, and avoiding the question would only create bigger problems later.

“I don’t want to sound insensitive or like an asshole,” Steve began, lowering his voice, “but I really need to know when we can expect you back on set. Just give me an estimated date. We have to adjust everyone else’s schedule based on that.”

The moment the words left his mouth, guilt twisted in his chest. Still, this was his first time serving as a producer. If the production stalled for months because he didn’t have the courage to ask a difficult question, it would be on him.

Troy thought about it for a second before replying, “Shoot with the others for now. I can’t work right now, as you can see, but I will definitely…”

“Why can’t you work?” Scarlett interrupted suddenly.

Troy blinked, clearly caught off guard. “You know why.”

“No, I don’t,” she said, shaking her head. “From what the doctors told us, the kids will be in the NICU for more than a month before they’re allowed to come home.”

He raised an eyebrow. “You want me to abandon you in this state?”

“Not forever,” she replied gently. “As much as I’d love having you by my side, you can spare a week or two to finish what you started. Once the film is complete, I won’t let you leave my side, or the kids, for months.”

Troy studied her face for a moment, searching for hesitation. Finding none, he chuckled softly and turned back to Steve.

“Well, you heard the lady. I can start shooting whenever you like.”

Relief flooded Steve so quickly he almost felt lightheaded. A small, persistent fear had been gnawing at him all week, that the film might slip into developmental limbo and never see completion. Worse, he might have been forced to replace Troy and reshoot every scene.

“Since it’s Friday, can you join us on Monday?” Steve asked.

“Alright, I’ll be there,” Troy agreed. Then his gaze drifted back to the NICU window, softening as he watched his sons resting inside their temperature-controlled pods.

“As much as I don’t want to,” he added quietly, “I’m a man of my word, and I don’t go back on it. Let’s finish this fucking film.”

He paused, as if something had just occurred to him.

“By the way, what are we naming this film?”

Steve smiled. “Actually, I need your input on that. This week, we held a contest on set to decide the final title. Two options have floated to the top. I prefer one, while the other producers and some cast members prefer the other.”

“And what are they?”

“[Crazy, Stupid, Love] and [The Wingman],” Steve replied immediately before gesturing toward Emily. “She prefers the former. I prefer the latter.”

“[Crazy, Stupid, Love] is such a great title,” Emily defended. “That’s exactly what the film is about. Everyone does something crazy or stupid for the people they love.”

Steve turned to Troy and Scarlett and asked bluntly, “Tell me honestly, which guy walks up to a ticket counter and asks for five tickets to [Crazy, Stupid, Love]? Would you watch a movie with that title, Troy, if you had absolutely no connection to it?”

Troy and Scarlett exchanged a thoughtful look before Scarlett spoke.

“Doesn’t [Crazy, Stupid, Love] sound a lot like [Eat Pray Love]? That film is releasing next month. People might assume the two are related.”

Now that Steve thought about it, that’s exactly what it sounded like.

“To answer your question,” Troy spoke up, “I’d prefer watching something that isn’t titled [Crazy, Stupid, Love]. Eventually, I would, since I watch all major releases, but I’d probably wait for the home release.”

“Thank you!” Steve threw his hands into the air, relief washing over his face at having finally won the argument. “So it’s settled then? We can name it [The Wingman]?”

“Yeah, sure,” Troy agreed easily. “I’ll call someone at Phoenix and make sure we stick with that title. Don’t worry, it’ll be done.”

Emily snorted and pointed at Troy with mock accusation. “Typical men. You just want to name the film after your character. It should be called [The Wingman’s Love Interest]. Then at least it would be named after my character.”

They all laughed at Emily’s absurd suggestion, the tension dissolving into easy camaraderie. But beneath the humor, Steve felt an immense sense of calm. By Monday, everything would be back on track.

(A week later)

The film’s new name was yet another butterfly effect of my presence.

In the original timeline, I remembered watching [Crazy, Stupid, Love] on television and regretting that I hadn’t experienced it on the big screen when it first released. The reason had been simple. Just as Steve suggested, I’d had no desire to watch a movie titled [Crazy, Stupid, Love], no matter how glowing the reviews were. Instead, I’d gone to see [Friends With Benefits] with my girlfriend at the time.

So when Steve offered me the chance to change the title to [The Wingman], I didn’t even have to think about it. I agreed immediately.

Although, in my head, I’d probably always call it [Crazy, Stupid, Love]. After all, that’s what I had known it as for years.

With that thought lingering, I arrived on set to shoot my final scene. Everything else had already been completed in the last week, and if I were being honest, this was the scene that made me fall in love with the film more than any other romantic comedy.

The backyard set glowed under the studio lights, carefully dressed to resemble a mini-golf course.

“Action!”

“Nanna!” Steve Carell called out enthusiastically as Emily walked into the backyard.

“Hi, guys!” she greeted everyone brightly.

That was my cue.

I stepped into frame, but the moment my eyes landed on Steve, I froze.

“Cal?” I asked, confusion creeping into my voice.

Julianne Moore, blindfolded for the scene, tilted her head slightly. “Is that him?”

“What are you doing here?” Steve demanded.

“What are you doing here?” I shot back.

Emily looked between us, baffled. “Wait, do you guys know each other?”

“Hi, Nanna!” one of the kid actors chirped from across the set, to which Emily greeted back.

“What’s a Nanna?” I asked, still trying to piece things together.

“I’m Nanna,” Emily replied. “I couldn’t say ‘Hanna’ when I was little. How do you know my dad?”

The word dad hit me like a truck.

I turned slowly toward Steve, shock written all over my face.

“I’m having trouble understanding what’s going on,” Steve said, now looking to Emily for clarification.

“Dad, this is Jacob, my boyfriend. I was bringing him over to meet Mom.”

“No, he’s not!” Steve fired back immediately. “No, no, no, no, no.”

“Cal, what are you doing with a daughter that’s grown up?” I asked, still reeling.

“We were 17 when we had her,” Steve hissed under his breath. “That’s why we got married so young.”

“That’s something you should’ve told me beforehand!”

“You never let me talk about my children.”

Julianne Moore fumbled with the blindfold, her patience clearly running out. “Oh, this is getting ridiculous,” she muttered before pulling it off in one swift motion.

The moment her eyes landed on me, her face lit up.

“Oh honey, he’s really cute.”

“Look at you,” I shot back with playful disbelief. “You’re really a mother? I don’t believe it, sister. I would totally hit on you if I saw you in a club.”

Moore blushed at the compliment.

“Alright,” Steve cut in sharply, stepping forward with protective energy. “Let me get this straight. You guys are a thing? You’re a couple?”

“Yeah,” Emily replied, as if it were the most obvious fact in the world.

“No way. Break up right now,” Steve snapped.

“Daddy?” Emily said, confused by the sudden hostility.

I turned toward her immediately with a troubled face. “Please don’t…call him that.”

The line, an improvisation I had shamelessly borrowed from Ryan Gosling of another timeline, worked like magic. Emily broke first, laughter spilling out of her. Julianne followed, and even Steve doubled over, unable to hold his stern expression.

“That line was hilarious, Troy!” Glenn shouted from behind the camera. “I love it. Keep that in the next take as well.”

I nodded in acknowledgment.

Working on this film had given me a newfound respect for Ryan Gosling. He had done an incredible job in the original version, and I was pushing myself to match at least his level of commitment and performance. It wasn’t easy. Comedy, I had learned, was far more difficult than drama, and Ryan was naturally funny. Certainly funnier than me.

I hadn’t faced this problem while shooting [Superbad]. That script had been outrageously wild, packed with gross-out humor where most improvisations couldn’t top what was already on the page. But this film relied on subtle, situational comedy. Timing mattered. Tone mattered. Even a slight misstep could flatten a joke.

Today alone, everything since my entrance had already been filmed more than 20 times. The directors experimented constantly with alternate lines and reactions, knowing they’d later stitch together the strongest version in post-production.

The next segment was simpler. Physical comedy. Every beat had been choreographed in advance, leaving no room for improvisation.

“Action!”

“Excuse me, Emily,” Kevin Bacon called out amid the carefully orchestrated chaos, holding up a sweater. “You left this in my car the other night.”

“Who are you?” the real Emily demanded, glaring at him.

“I’m David Lindhagen.”

“You’re David Lindhagen?” I repeated, slipping off my ring as realization dawned. “Okay.”

I stepped toward him.

“Is this a bad time?” Kevin asked cautiously, but I didn’t give him a second to react.

My fist connected with his cheek in a perfectly staged punch that looked far more painful than it actually was. Kevin collapsed instantly, dropping like a sack of potatoes.

“Do you know how much pain and suffering you’ve caused my friend, you dumb son of a bi–”

That was as far as I got before Steve lunged in from the side, grabbing me and shaking me hard.

“You stay away from my daughter!”

“No, you stay away from my daughter!” a fourth man shouted, charging into the scuffle and wrapping his arms around Steve in quite a similar fashion.

“I don’t even know you!” Kevin yelled, scrambling back to his feet and clutching onto me from the other side.

“Oh my God! What are you grabbing? That’s my…” I grimaced in mock agony but never finished the sentence as the tangled mass of bodies lost balance.

A second later, all of us crashed onto the ground in a heap, the staged fight dissolving into perfectly timed chaos.

“And cut!” Glenn called out, excitement ringing through his voice. “That was it. Perfect. We’re done with today’s shoot. And with this, we wrap up all of Troy’s scenes for [The Wingman].”

For a split second, there was silence as the weight of his words settled in.

Then the set erupted.

Cheers bounced off the studio walls, followed by thunderous applause from the cast and crew. Weeks of hard work had finally paid off.

I did the only thing that felt appropriate. I bowed deeply, turning in a slow circle so I could acknowledge everyone gathered around me.

“Thank you all for making my time here so memorable,” I said, raising my voice just enough to carry across the set. The production lights still blazed overhead, warming the artificial backyard that had been our world for the past several days.

“And thank you for being so understanding when I had to step away for personal reasons. As most of you know, I recently became a father.”

A few people cheered again at that, their smiles widening.

“I want all of you to celebrate with me, even if it’s just for one night. So once the shoot wraps for everyone, I’ll be hosting a grand party for the entire cast and crew. Keep an eye out for your invitations in your mailboxes.”

Another cheer rolled through the space at the mention of a party, louder this time, charged with the promise of good food, music, and a rare night without call sheets.

Truth be told, I wasn’t someone who threw parties just for the sake of it. But when it came to films produced under Phoenix where I’m the lead actor, I followed two traditions without fail. First, a wrap party at the end of the shoot. Second, a success party once the film proved itself at the box office.

And since I had yet to deliver a single flop, both celebrations had become something people quietly looked forward to. It made sense to add to that celebration. You don’t have twins everyday. I’ll just wait for them to get home safe and sound from the hospital before throwing the party.