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ambitionsource · 6 months

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AMBITION “For Better, For Worse” [ 4.12 ]♮Part 1

RECAP

Over a shot of Grace and Lucas Kinsley watching Kenneth’s ashes be lowered into his grave:

Maya, voiceover: Previously, on AMBITION…

The big event of the season finally happened -- we said good riddance to Kenneth Friar and laid him to (hopefully hellish) rest. Though it wasn’t an easy feat. There was concern that it may not even happen at all, but Grace and Lucas managed to pull something together after three weeks of distance. This experience allowed Grace a lot of time to reflect, giving us our first true glimpse into the history she carries so quietly inside her -- and the chance for her to actually start processing it all.

Grace: I’ve been a shitty mother, all the way through. I wasn’t one, really. Lucas knew that. He’s always had to be the strong one. I’m not a mother, but he’s a son. He didn’t get the choice not to be.

Yes, the experience was far from casual for Lucas, who nearly couldn’t make it through the ceremony. However, he was able to with the support of Riley, who stepped out of her performance in Ghost last minute to show up at the funeral. While the surprise was very appreciated by Lucas, others weren’t so convinced the decision was unequivocally a positive display.

When Evan tried to say as much, albeit gently, Riley was ready to push back.

Riley: It was my decision to leave. Lucas had no influence over it. It was my call. And I don’t regret the choice I made. So you can save your concern. I’m fine.

Riley wasn’t the only one who came to steady Lucas. Dylan and Asher returned, and Isa made a hasty exodus from their newly realized romantic entanglement with Farkle, leaving him in limbo as to what exactly their status is. They didn’t totally hang him out to dry, though, as a tipsy but emotional phone call finally let some truths spill to the surface.

Isa: Farkle, I love you. And that is the most terrifying shit ever, like I am scared shitless about it, but I also can’t… not. Believe me, I’ve tried. And after what we did the other night, when that just like, confirmed everything, now it’s like -- that’s the fuck of it all. I love you. I’m in love with you.

Isa also wasn’t the only one who got to speak their very important truths. After acting as a support in his own right, accompanying Zay to the daunting Turner gala to learn whether he made the final three, long withheld feelings and magnetism finally culminated in Zay and Charlie finding their way back to each other. Suffice to say, they earned their big damn kiss -- in the rain, no less (it is Charlie’s element, after all).

And in the aftermath of that rush, back where they belong, Charlie finally got to say the words both of them have been dying to hear.

Charlie: I loved you then. The whole time. I love you now. And the truth is, I cannot imagine any version of reality where I don’t. [ with awe ] Isaiah Babineaux.

Maya also made a major confession of her own, revealing to Josh what happened with Justin on the songwriting retreat. Naturally, he came to her defense, but not without some major reckoning of his own. He ultimately had to make that fateful choice of what his career means to him, and what he’s willing to sacrifice -- his morals, and his soul -- to keep coasting how he is now. So he decided to walk from Global Beat, casting him and Maya alike into the abyss of no industry support -- and potentially, the end of their careers before they really had the chance to begin.

But potential resets seem to be the name of the game right now. Zay and Charlie managed to reunite -- only for Zay to get a touring offer that could kickstart his career for real, but take him far away from New York. Maya and Farkle are both considering fleeing Los Angeles, especially the latter, inspired by Isa’s lovesick declaration and a longing familiarity for the city that never quite chewed him up and spat him out the way Hollywood has (or rather, a narcissistic Hollywood director-to-be). Yindra is in the final stretch of fighting for a spot in a coveted new girl group, while Nigel has made amends with his parents and seemingly cleared the way for him to pursue an international transfer… if he braves the plunge.

Grace insisted Lucas take the life insurance payout to affirm his impending journey to UC Davis, and Lucas took legal matters into his own hands. He formally changed his surname to Grace’s maiden name “Kinsley,” letting Friar die with Kenneth.

Lucas: Just felt right. If we were burying him… I wanted to bury all of it. Hopefully for good. Riley: Lucas James Kinsley. I love him already.

And in a shocking twist, Riley stunned Zay and Farkle upon the latter’s homecoming when she made a decisive declaration of her own.

Riley: I’m dropping out of NYU. [ with cool certainty ] I’m going to California.

All of these pending changes have time to simmer, however, as we have another very important event to attend to this time around. In case you forgot, Jack and Eric long ago made a huge change of plans together -- and the time has come to finally see it through.

Eric: Will you marry me, Jackie? Jack: Yeah. Yes, Eric, now get up so you can kiss me.

Spring is here, the sky is blue… and the time has come to say “I do.”

End of recap.

Over black, the opening harmonies of a familiar, iconic tune sung by the AMBITION ensemble welcomes us into the episode.

Goin' to the chapel And we're gonna get married

EXT. NEW YORK STREETS - DAY

Song Cue ♫ ♪ “Chapel Of Love” as performed by The Dixie Cups || Performed by AMBITION Ensemble

As the opening bars continue, exterior shots of New York bring us into technicolor. It’s been a week or so since last episode, the passage of time marching ever forward. Just like the song declares, spring is here, as evidenced by the thawing chill of the city and greenery beginning to decorate the scenery. New life sprouting between the cracks in the sidewalk, coming into full bloom in Central Park, stretching towards the bluest sky we’ve seen in weeks.

Winter can’t hold back the spring, after all, no matter how dark it may seem. As we ease our way deeper into the city…

INT. CHEY APARTMENT - NIGEL’S BEDROOM - DAY

Now that he’s settled emotional matters with his family, the biggest obstacle for NIGEL CHEY is whether or not he can actually get into somewhere new to transfer… and how he can possibly afford it. He’s looking into just that as he sits on his bed with his laptop on his lap and back against the wall.

He’s sifting between potential transfer programs with auditions in the fall… and their financial aid packages on the next tab over. He’ll have to get a scholarship, undoubtedly, and even with that, the mere travel to get there will be a challenge.

Maybe he was silly to even humor this notion in the first place. He’s distracted when his phone buzzes, lighting up with a text from Jade.

“Boarding flight now. Can’t wait to see you!”

Nigel smiles, texting a ditto and wish for her to fly safe. After the initial warmth, though, uncertainty crosses his features. That’s the other difficulty he has yet to address -- telling certain people of his grand ambitions.

INT. YINDRA’S BEDROOM - DAY

YINDRA AMINO is grappling with hesitation of her own, brow crinkled as she reads on her phone. She’s back in her grandmother’s apartment in New York, but her mind is still in L.A., as she skims through any possible information she can get about the girl group and whatever progress is being made on its formation.

No matter how many snippets of marketing copy Reese Dalton-King forwards her, he can’t tell her the one thing she really wants to know. She’ll only get that when an offer -- or rejection -- arrives from Jupiter Records.

She falls onto her back with a groan, temporarily blocking it all out.

Because we’re…

EXT. L.A. APARTMENT BUILDING - DAY

Just after sunrise, MAYA HART emerges from her building, baby pink rolling suitcase in hand. She’s alone, but not for long, as a car pulls up at the curb.

JOSH MATTHEWS. He’s in the passenger seat, ANDREW HALL behind the wheel to take them both to the airport. He gives Maya a wave, inviting her towards the car.

Goin’ to the chapel and we’re gonna get married

INT. NYU APARTMENT - RILEY’S BEDROOM - DAY

RILEY MATTHEWS is working through some packing of her own, focused on one item in particular. She retrieves a simple but lovely sage green dress from her bed, taking care to place it into a garment bag hanging on the back of her closet door.

Goin’ to the chapel and we’re gonna get married

She takes a moment to admire the fabric, clearly excited about it. Then she zips up the bag, sending us into darkness --

INT. CHARLIE’S APARTMENT - CHARLIE’S BEDROOM - DAY

Until we’re brought into the light again, filtering in through CHARLIE GARDNER’s bedroom window. He’s awake, sitting up on the right side of his bed with his journal on his lap. He’s jotting down a few notes, expression thoughtful. He glances up at the sunlight, then lets his gaze drift leftward…

Where ZAY BABINEAUX is laying beside him, still asleep.

Gee, I really love you and we’re gonna get married

A light, fond smile crosses Charlie’s face -- he can’t help it. He manages to shift his gaze back to his writing, scribbling another thought…

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

If only the actual husband-to-be had remotely that much serenity this morning. ERIC MATTHEWS shuts his suitcase with gusto, zipping it up tight and seemingly right in the middle of a nervous ramble. Days before the wedding, it just feels like there’s so much to be done, and that he should’ve done better, and God, why did they do all of this so last-minute?!

JACK HUNTER and ISA DE LA CRUZ watch him go, the latter hanging in the doorway and trying to figure out if there’s a good way to intervene. They stayed over before the flight in an effort to be helpful, but it’s not common to see Eric in such a frenzy…

Isa: This feels like a very weird role reversal. I thought I was supposed to be the trainwreck. Jack: Eh, any good family takes turns. Eric, not listening: And what if we forgot to send invitations to important people? What if my mother didn’t get her invite and doesn’t know we’re going all the way across the Atlantic for this? Why did we decide that? Jack: Because you’ve always wanted to see Europe. And we had the connections to make it happen. Eric: Which we needed, because it was so short notice! Are we totally screwing this up? My brother spent like two years planning his wedding, Jack. Two years. Isa: Yeah, and look at them now… Eric: What if I’m going to screw this all up? Are we totally butchering this? Are we having a shotgun wedding, Jack? Isa, to Jack: Should I take the suitcases downstairs, or… Jack, to Isa: Yes. That sounds like a good idea, Isa. Thank you.

Roger that… Isa skirts past their pacing dad and grabs his suitcase, lugging it back through the doorway. Meanwhile, Jack focuses on Eric, approaching him and taking his shoulders to stop his mindless movement. Deep breaths, now. In…

Eric: You’re not supposed to be telling me this. I’m the counselor. Jack: Well, they say couples bleed into one another. Shouldn’t I be so lucky to be just like you. Eric: Ugh.

Eric rolls his eyes, earning a smile. Jack braces his shoulders, reminding him that yes, things may have come together comparatively fast, but it all worked out. They’ve got everything under control.

Jack: Rachel was able to set everything up, and you know she’s well connected over there. She wouldn’t have assured us it was all good if it wasn’t. Eric: Yeah… yeah. Jack: Besides, that’s not really important. I don’t care if your mom shows up, or my mom shows up, or we end up stranded on some desert island because the plane crashes and we’re the only two people left. Eric: Well, don’t speak that into existence now… Jack: Eric. [ waiting for him to meet his eyes ] Relax. The only thing I care about is that by the end of this week, you and I are partners for life. Officially, that is -- we already are as far as I’m concerned.

So long as they can manage that, then the rest is just dressing. Agreed? After a moment, and a deep breath, Eric nods. He accepts a quick kiss from Jack, who then pats his shoulders.

Jack: It’s all gonna work out. What’s the worst that could happen?

Eric gives him a warning look. Don’t test me… if they’ve learned anything from their time at Adams, it’s that they should never ask the universe that question.

But for now, no time to worry. They’ve got a plane to catch. Jack leads the way, beginning their journey out the door --

INT. CHUBBIES - DAY

Just as FARKLE MINKUS pushes through another, looking about as huffy as Eric. He scans the diner quickly, then finds his target, marching up to the counter. For a brief second, it’s not obvious what exactly he’s after.

Farkle, loudly: What the hell were you thinking?!

From where he’s chatting with JOE at the register, LUCAS JAMES KINSLEY turns around. He frowns, both put off and totally confused by Farkle’s outburst.

Rest assured, he’s about to find out. The soon-to-be-newlyweds really shouldn’t worry.

The universe is hardly interested in them when there’s so many more delicious pots to stir.

Goin’ to the chapel of love…

Cue title sequence.

INT. CHUBBIES - DAY

Picking up right where we left off, Joe and Lucas are startled by Farkle’s sudden storming of the diner gates. He’s clearly on a rampage, frazzled and frenetic and speaking a mile a minute.

Farkle: I mean, seriously, I need you to explain it to me. Because I can’t make it make sense in my head. I’ve tried to think it through, to rationalize on my own, but I’m not getting anywhere. How does it make sense to -- why should she go anywhere when things are already going so well here? Why on God’s green earth would you ever suggest otherwise?

With so little context, he sounds more unhinged than usual. This is especially true for Joe, who is a novice when it comes to Farkle-related mania. He looks to Lucas.

Joe: He doesn’t seem right. Do I need to make some calls?

Based on his bewildered expression, Lucas doesn’t have much more of a clue even with his years of Farkle experience. He waves off Joe’s concern, telling him he’ll take care of it… whatever it is.

Joe: Fast, please. He’s scaring the customers.

Maybe so. At their usual booth, regular patrons MAISIE and EFFIE are watching Farkle’s pacing display in rapt, nosy attention.

Maisie: I swear, this generation has zero manners. Can’t he see we’re eating here? Effie: Shh, shut it. This is the best entertainment this place has had all week!

Wow, enjoying and immersing in the drama of others… the Adams cohort no less… can’t think of anybody else who would take pleasure in that…

Farkle carries on regardless, oblivious to the curiosity he’s attracting. Lucas comes around from behind the counter and tries to get him to quiet down, speaking in a low growl as he pulls him away from the doors.

Lucas: What the hell is the matter with you? Are you off your meds or what? Farkle: I should be asking you that question! [ off his confused offense ] Okay, well, not the medication part. The part before that. And no, to be clear, I’m not off my meds, but it’s very cute and ableist of you to ask. Lucas: Well, when you come hurricaning into my place of work for no reason -- Farkle: No reason! This is not no reason. But you’re right about one thing -- I shouldn’t have come here now. I shouldn’t have waited. The second Riley told us she wanted to go, I should’ve found you then. But it was after your dad and everything, and -- and I wasn’t even sure Riley was serious, but when she told me and Zay she seemed so -- Lucas, lost: When she told you what? Farkle: [ ignoring him ] And to a degree it’s like… it’s not like I don’t get it. You know? I can imagine the appeal. Ever since certain things in my own life have -- have I thought about just dropping it all to come back to New York? To make things work? Maybe. And that comes with other angles, too, like how I’m not sure if I even like Los Angeles, but it’s not as if I have a ton going on for me there with the toxic ex-boyfriend and hot-and-cold agency prospects --

Okay, he’s really not making this easy. Lucas glances over his shoulder to make sure the patrons have gone back to minding their own business, as he doesn’t see how he’s supposed to understand or care about anything Farkle is saying -- but he snaps back to attention when Farkle loops back around to Riley.

Farkle: But that’s not how it is for Riley. She’s doing great. She has everything and more going on here, with a whole bevy of paths open to her. You know she has all that going for her. So why would you ever think to -- what would possess you to think that asking her to leave is the right idea? Why would you make her do that?

Lucas stares at him, dumbstruck. The shock in his features, the utter lack of defensiveness, is what tips Farkle off. He may have barreled in here with all the confidence in the world, sure he knew what he was talking about, but the sharp uncertainty on Lucas’s face takes the wind out of his sails.

Farkle, quieter: … you have no idea what I’m talking about, do you? Lucas: What?

Oops.

Farkle screws his eyes shut, dread leaking into his own expression. He turns away and starts to pace again, this time nervously.

Farkle: Oh no. Oh no, oh no, oh no. Lucas: Farkle. Farkle: Oh no. Shit, shit -- Lucas: Farkle.

Farkle grimaces, rotating to face him again. Lucas is deceptively calm, voice soft -- but deadly serious.

Lucas: What are you talking about?

It’s toothpaste, Farkle. You can’t put it back in the tube.

He holds Lucas’s gaze, sheepish.

INT. CHARLIE’S APARTMENT - DAY

Meanwhile, Charlie appears to be having a far less strenuous morning. He’s humming to himself while whipping together breakfast, certainly more at ease than it feels like he’s been for a long while.

One reason for that becomes obvious moments later when Zay emerges from his bedroom. He’s got pillow creases on his cheek and is wearing Charlie’s National Parks sweatshirt, but neither of those details hardly matter. He could be the walking dead or dressed to the nines and Charlie would look at him the same way he does now, eyes brightening and effortless smile blooming across his face.

With his entrance, the humming becomes something more. Charlie lightly sings as he greets him.

Charlie: “Isaiah! I’ve just kissed a boy named Isaiah…”

He does just that, coming to meet Zay in the middle and giving him a kiss good morning. Zay rolls his eyes when they pull apart, but only because it’s so stupidly adorable and still surreal that it’s even happening.

Zay: Very cute.

Charlie keeps going, sliding back over to the stove. By the time he makes it back and switches off the burner, he’s concluded the verse, throwing a little extra flourish into the lines.

Charlie: “Say it soft, and it’s almost like praying…”

Charlie puts his hands together in front of him, then offers Zay a cheeky smile. Zay can’t help but return it, shaking his head and approaching the opposite side of the counter.

Zay: Very blasphemous way to start the morning. You must be feeling chipper today. Charlie: Eh, I was chipper about two hours ago. We’re well encroaching afternoon at this point. Zay: Well, sorry. I would’ve gotten up sooner -- Charlie: You would’ve? Color me shocked. You’ve never been a morning person. Zay: Okay, first of all, there’s a difference between your standard, average “morning person,” and whatever the hell demonic entity you represent. No normal human being likes naturally getting up at six in the morning. [ off his shrug ] And secondly, as I was saying, I would’ve woken up earlier, but I needed the sleep. I had a hard time falling asleep.

Charlie is immune to his melodrama, albeit mildly amused. He pops a grape into his mouth, letting him carry on.

Zay: Because I just kept tossing and turning, going over the pros and cons of this touring thing again… and again… [ pointedly ] wondering if anyone I know and trust would finally give me some advice… Charlie: Sounds tough. Coffee?

He turns to plate some food for him, breezy and unmoved. Zay drops his innocent fishing, shooting a frustrated look at the back of his head.

Zay: Seriously? You’re seriously not going to tell me how you feel about it. Charlie, pithy: Nope.

Charlie faces him again and slides the breakfast across the counter towards him. Zay scoffs.

Zay: You know, just considering how long it has taken us to get our collective shit together, I would’ve thought you might have an opinion on this. Like, whether I’m about to be constantly out of the city or not. I thought that partnership -- Charlie: Is that what we’re calling it now? Did we officially land on that? Zay: I thought that being supportive and helping each other work through big things like this was part of the deal. Charlie: Yeah, it is. Which is exactly why I’m not saying anything.

And exactly why they’re even making jokes about their “partnership,” or whatever it is right now. Clearly, they care about each other. Clearly, they’re still into each other -- very much so. But there’s a factor now that throws things into question -- something that Zay needs to figure out for himself.

Charlie: And you know, maybe the chance to stop and think for a second is the right move. For both of us. In the heat of the moment, I just got caught up in it, and we moved pretty fast -- Zay: Yeah, no, not doubting any of that. Didn’t need a lot of time to figure that out, thanks.

If circumstances had been different, to be honest, both of them probably would’ve liked to end up back in this situationship together much sooner than they did. There’s no confusion on that front. Charlie absorbs that, unable to hold back a small smile.

Charlie: Even so. This touring thing is a good way to reset. Figure out priorities. Zay: I know it is. That’s why in my head, it’s something we should be doing together.

Nice as that is, Charlie shakes his head. He gets what Zay means, but…

Charlie: I don’t want to be the reason you do or don’t do anything. This is about your career, not me. If you decide to do the tour, or if you don’t, I don’t want it to be because I felt some type of way about it.

So whether or not he wants him to go -- if he even has an opinion -- he won’t be letting it influence Zay’s decision.

Which is clearly less than pleasing to Zay. To soften the blow, Charlie reaches across the countertop and takes his hand.

Charlie: You stepped back and let me do my own thing when I needed it. You didn’t get in the way, even if you may have wanted to. I’m going to do the same for you.

Whatever Zay chooses to do, he wants it to be his choice. And regardless of what that choice ends up being, he’ll support him. That’s what partnership -- or whatever this is -- is about.

Zay: Well, that’s very annoying of you. [ a beat ] But also sweet.

Charlie beams, pressing a kiss to Zay’s knuckles.

INT. BURBANK AIRPORT - TERMINAL - DAY

Josh and Maya are at the gate for their early flight back to New York. While they wait for boarding to begin, Maya asks Josh how things have gone since he quit Global Beat. He shrugs.

Josh: About as well as you’d expect. Which isn’t really good or bad, considering I wasn’t a huge asset to begin with in their eyes. Maya: Agree to disagree, but clearly they don’t have an ear for talent. Josh: Melissa and Justin have all but blacklisted me, which I wouldn’t care about if it weren’t for the fact that they are just about the only references I have from the last four years. And it’s going to be hell trying to find clients with no official label backing -- one of them already jumped ship. Maya: Damn, who? Josh: Her name’s Cricket. But that’s not personal. She told me it was just as well, because she is currently planning to go backpacking through Asia on some transcendental mushroom trip and the only reason she hadn’t bailed sooner is that she didn’t want to hurt my feelings. Maya: … wow. You have a true magnetism for personality, Josh Matthews. Josh: Anyway, Floyd is still on my roster -- he said he would never abandon me even if we were on the Titanic and there was only one lifeboat seat left -- but that’s not exactly saying much. Maya: Fierce loyalty. Gotta respect it. Josh: So, yeah. Back to the squarest of square ones, basically. [ grimmer ] Not excited to be going back for extended face time with my family with that development, but…

Maya frowns. She apologizes for the fact that Josh lost so much -- least of all over her -- but he waves her off. As he’s said before, he doesn’t regret it. He made the right choice. He has to believe that.

As for her… Josh eyes her curiously.

Josh: What about you? Have you talked to anyone else about it? [ off her head shake ] Not even Farkle? Maya: God, no. Especially not Farkle. Josh: I think he’d want to know. He’s your best friend. He cares about you. Maya: Which is exactly why I don’t want him to know.

She doesn’t want him to worry about her. She doesn’t want anyone to worry. That’s not her vibe, and she’s always been independent. The last thing she needs is for everyone to start pitying her or treating her like she’s made of glass.

Maya: I just want things to be… the same. I want to go to this wedding and see everyone and have them treat me just like always. How it should be.

Josh seems unsure about whether that’s the right path, but he doesn’t argue. It’s her trauma, and he’ll respect her right to privacy. But speaking of choices…

Josh: Have you figured out what you want to do? Without Global Beat?

She’s basically in the same boat as him, now adrift with no institutional ties. She has more public goodwill and recognition than he does, but the lack of a label hurts just the same. Maya shakes her head, a bit sheepish -- the truth is, she hasn’t decided if she wants to keep pushing this fight at all.

Not that she can even bring herself to vocalize that possibility. Josh senses it from her silence, though.

Josh: Whatever you decide, I’ll back you. Whatever ends up being best for you. Just remember that there is at least one person in this industry -- or formerly of it, given my track record right now -- who believes you’ve got what it takes.

Maya absorbs that, offering him a nod and weak smile. Then she tilts her head back, exhaling a sigh.

Maya: For now, I just want to get the hell back to New York. Farkle, pre-lap: She wants to leave New York. That’s what she said.

INT. CHUBBIES - BACK ROOM - DAY

Farkle and Lucas have relocated to the cramped employee back room for a semblance of privacy. Farkle is no longer the one pacing, sitting awkwardly on the stool in the corner while Lucas instead anxiously criss-crosses the width of the space.

Even though Farkle has now had the chance to give him the full story, Lucas doesn’t seem any less confused. If anything, he’s more lost, shaking his head in disbelief.

Lucas: Everything is going great. She’s doing incredible. Farkle: Apparently not. She seemed pretty determined that she wanted to drop NYU. Lucas: But… why? Why -- why -- why would -- why would she ever do that? Farkle: She wants to go to California.

As if that should make it obvious… but Lucas can’t comprehend it. Farkle grows quieter.

Farkle: With you.

Fuck… Lucas exhales, not able to believe it. Sure, he knows they’re in a relationship. He knows they love each other. But the idea of… that she would drop everything…

Lucas: I wouldn’t -- I didn’t ask her to do that. I wouldn’t. I don’t know why she -- Farkle: I don’t either. That’s why I got so freaked. Made assumptions. [ a beat ] I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have assumed you were making her do anything. If I know Riley, honestly, I should’ve known better.

No one makes that woman do anything she doesn’t want to do. Even so, that’s the part Lucas can’t wrap his head around. She is doing so well here; she’s been the brightest star in their galaxy basically this whole year. He can’t understand why she would so easily throw all that away to start over from scratch.

It’s not like he doesn’t like the idea of her being there beside him, but he obviously wasn’t prepared for the bombshell. And something about it makes him nervous, even if he can’t put his finger on why. Farkle can sense his discomfort.

Farkle: And I’m sorry I barged in here like this and threw it all on you. I didn’t -- I wasn’t thinking. And since you didn’t know, I probably shouldn’t have been the one to tell you. I thought I’d gotten better about stuff like that, detonating myself all over everything, but… I guess I’m not as grown as I like to pretend I am. I’m sorry I said anything. Lucas: No… no, it’s… it’s good. I’m glad you told me.

Farkle looks apprehensive, but Lucas means it. Despite his newfound nerves, he’s grateful to have some advance warning. It gives him a chance to think it over, to figure out how to respond.

Lucas: Just… do me a favor. Don’t tell Riley you told me. Okay? I… I want some time to think it over on my own.

Given he lit the bomb in the first place, giving Lucas space to disarm it is the least Farkle could do. He nods, getting to his feet and claiming he’ll leave his work place in peace again. Before he goes, he hesitates, glancing back at Lucas.

Farkle: I know I’m the last person who should be giving advice on anything, least of all relationships. But… Riley clearly loves you. Enough to put that above everything else. [ a beat ] Maybe don’t screw that up.

That’s exactly what he’s trying to avoid. Lucas nods.

EXT. JFK INTERNATIONAL AIRPORT - DAY

Meanwhile, Riley’s focus is elsewhere as she arrives at the airport pick-up. She gets out of her car as Josh and Maya approach the median, rolling up with their bags. Riley pops the trunk and then gives her uncle an enthusiastic hug, which he returns by lifting her lightly off the ground.

Riley: Welcome back to New York!

She’s clearly very excited to see him again. Once she’s back on her feet, she turns to Maya, less sure how to best greet her diva friend. Usually, she’s not very touchy-feely.

Maya fills in the blanks for her this time, giving her a classic starlit smile and taking her hand to pull her closer. They exchange theatrical cheek kisses, Riley rolling with the punches, before Maya steps into a hug.

Once shielded by the embrace, the mirage drops somewhat. Based on the expression on her face, it’s obvious Maya really wanted that warm, familiar hug.

With that out of the way, she snaps back into diva mode.

Maya: So bags in the trunk, I presume? [ swatting his arm ] Josh, you can get them, right?

She doesn’t wait for an answer, opening the back door and climbing in behind the passenger seat. Not giving him the chance to say no. Josh resists the urge to roll his eyes, exchanging a look with Riley that morphs into laughter. As the two of them toss the luggage into the back of the car, Riley quietly continues the conversation.

Riley: It’s nice of you to travel with Maya. I was kind of surprised she didn’t just come back with Farkle. Josh: I think he wanted to come back sooner, and she had some… stuff to wrap up. But no, yeah, it’s chill. We’re… getting along. Riley: Really? That’s great. I guess with her working with your bosses, it makes sense. [ elbowing him ] Maybe you two can pull one another up. Josh: Yeah… well --

Before he can awkwardly avoid the topic of his now non-employment, the car horn honks, startling them both. Maya leans her head out of the car window.

Maya: Come along, Matthews, chop chop. We’ve got reunions to reune!

Riley and Josh exchange another look. Divas… as Josh closes the trunk --

INT. BABINEAUX HOME - ZAY’S BEDROOM - DAY

Yindra and Nigel are over at Zay’s, his suitcase open on the bed. They’re helping him pack, Yindra rifling through his closet while Nigel neatly folds things into the luggage.

Zay: Don’t y’all think it’s a little cringe that we’re going to this thing? I mean, I get it, Mister E and Hunter like live for their jobs, but our invites might be pushing it. Yindra: No, no, don’t say that. Shut up. This is my one ticket to Europe, you’re not taking that from me. So hush! Nigel: Not to mention we’re not really invitees. We’re technically hired help. Yindra: Dirt cheap help at that.

Which is to say, they’re going to be filling in a lot of the musical entertainment at the reception. Suppose that’s the benefit of bringing up some of the best new talent of a generation… still, Zay isn’t impressed on principle.

Zay: Just let the record show that when I get married someday, it’s Rihanna or nada. Nigel: Your confidence is inspiring and genuinely concerning. [ reaching up to tap his forehead ] How is that big head going to fit on coach?

Zay rolls his eyes, slapping his hand away. Yindra emerges from the closet again, placing a couple of shirts against Zay’s torso before tossing a couple into Nigel’s folding pile.

Yindra: You know our bestie is all talk. As if we aren’t all going to get song slots and long toast speeches at his wedding -- at least we better, or else I’m not coming. Zay: Diva. Yindra: Kettle. And my point stands. Anyway, I’m not the one out here with these big-ass moves, going on tour and maybe going to London to become a British person. Zay: I haven’t decided -- Nigel: There’s no guarantee that I’ll --

Yindra silences their protests with her hands, mimicking their yapping. Yeah, yeah, things aren’t decided yet, but at least the two of them are somewhat in control of their destinies. Right now, Yindra is just waiting for the shoe to drop and has no way of knowing when it’s coming -- or what the verdict will be.

Zay: I kind of wish someone else would decide for me. Might be easier for someone to just tell me what to do. Nigel: They could. Turner could still decide to take Gia and Vanessa rather than you. Then the decision is made for you.

Zay makes a face, focusing on his suitcase. That’s not at all the reason he’s so hesitant… and Yindra senses this, deciding to pull at the thread in another direction.

Yindra: What does Jade think about your transfer, Nige? Supportive, surely, but did she give you any advice?

Nigel’s turn to grow quiet. At his silence, both Yindra and Zay immediately groan.

Yindra/Zay: Oh, Nigel. Nigel: What? What? Zay: You need to tell her! What, are you just gonna wait until you’re across the pond and then drop her a little eight-hour time difference line? Nigel: No -- Yindra: She’d want to know. She deserves to know. Even if it doesn’t end up happening. Y’all are the ones who have had relationships, shouldn’t you want to be including your partner in this type of shit? Zay: Yes. Yes, you do, Yindra. Nigel: And I do! I do want to tell her. I’m going to. I just… I’m trying to find the right time to do it.

Yindra shakes her head, wandering over to Zay’s dresser to start rummaging through there. She lets him handle the talk, and boy does he, insisting that Nigel needs to come clean sooner rather than later.

Zay: Well, while you’re wasting precious time waiting for the “right” moment, I swear, you’ll end up with nothing left but the worst one. Trust me, man, the whole keeping secrets shit is the worst thing you could possibly do to a relationship. Nigel: I’m not trying to keep it a secret. Seriously. I’m just… I’m scared she’ll be upset. I want to find the way to do it that won’t freak her out. [ with a sigh ] I care about her. I love her. I don’t want to lose her over this. Zay: Well, take it from me. Keep this from her much longer, and you will.

Yindra breaks up the doom and gloom, traipsing back over and dropping a couple things into the suitcase.

Yindra: Really sweet prenuptial chatter, fellas. Just so optimistic and bright.

INT. HART APARTMENT - NIGHT

Maya is contemplating what’s next herself, uncharacteristically quiet as she sits wrapped in a blanket on the couch. She’s looking out the windows towards the city, Time Square just visible in the distance.

Katy, off-screen: I just packed up your dress, it’s on your bed.

Maya shakes off the malaise as best she can, offering KATY HART a smile as she approaches. She’s carrying two mugs of hot chocolate, coming to join her daughter on the couch.

Katy: I’ve pressed it and zipped it up tight in that garment bag, so it should be in perfect shape when you put it on. Tell Mister Hunter and Mister Matthews I love the theme they chose by the way. It’s so beautiful, even though it’s simple. I like that. [ squeezing Maya’s arm ] I wish I could see you at the ceremony. Promise you’ll take a hundred pictures. Maya: You know Farkle and I never pass up an opportunity to Vogue.

Rest assured, photos will be graphed. After a beat of comfortable quiet, hot chocolates sipped, Maya broaches a different topic.

Maya: Are you happy with how things turned out? Katy: How do you mean? Maya: Like… your life. I know dad and… me kind of got in the way of things -- Katy: You know I don’t think that. Not for one second. [ brushing hair out of her face ] I got the best break of my life from an unexpected twist.

Maya beams, going along with the motherly praise. But she’s not done digging.

Maya: I don’t really mean in that aspect. Obviously I was a factor, but do you ever… regret how it all went down? With your career, and losing your shot? When you were trying to break in, did the industry feel like…

Soul-sucking? Destructive? Stronger than her? Did it burn her mother the way it has seemed to send her to ashes? Katy thinks about it, stirring her chocolate.

Katy: The whole business was obviously pretty different when I was trying to break in. And as we both know, you’ve already struck it bigger than I ever did. Though I’m sure much has stayed the same. And I was always stuck up here in New York, trying for bit parts in Law and Order to try to get that foot in the door -- I didn’t have the guts to jump and try my hand in Hollywood like you. Maya: Mm. Having a rich friend helped. Katy: Maybe so. And I’ll be thanking the Minki every day for the rest of my life. [ a beat ] But it wasn’t always easy. I’m sure you knew that. It was hard, to go to auditions and be scrutinized. To be judged on the smallest details -- would I look better as a brunette? Were my hips too big? Was I articulate enough? Note that rarely were we ever discussing my actual ability to sing.

Unfortunately, a lot of superficial bullshit comes first in a market looking to sell. Maya knows that all too well, given her own commodification as of late… she sips her hot chocolate.

Katy: Would I have liked it if I made it? Would I have been cut out for it? I don’t know. I’m never going to know. That’s not the path I was given. And living it now, I wouldn’t change it for anything. In my opinion, as long as you’re trusting your gut and forging your path, no matter where it leads, you’ll find where you’re meant to be. That’s what I want to believe, at least.

So if Maya can endure the worst of the industry -- including the parts she hasn’t told Katy about that’s already hard to see -- and make something out of it, only she can decide that. Depends on where she wants to find happiness, and if her instinct to create is stronger than her aversion to the darkness.

Right now, she isn’t so sure.

INT. MINKUS HOME - NIGHT

Farkle is equally pensive, soaking up his much more picturesque view of Manhattan at night through the wall of windows in their penthouse. While his melancholy is similar in shades to Maya, his is laced with less inner turmoil and more… longing. A wistfulness, a sense of displacement, that’s hard to ignore when he’s actually dropped back in the city.

He snaps himself out of it when his father, STUART MINKUS, enters the kitchen. He remarks that he’s surprised to see Farkle still up, considering his early flight tomorrow morning.

Farkle: Couldn’t sleep. Stuck on L.A. time, I guess. Three hours later. Stuart: That’s right. Listen to you, so cross-continental. Farkle: Why are you still up? Stuart: Deadline. There’s a huge deal we’re hoping to close this weekend, and I’m this close to polishing the deck for it. You know, one slide can make or break a sale.

Sure, right. Businessman talk. Still, it’s nice to see how genuinely invested in his own work his father is. Even when he felt resentment over the attention deficit, that’s something Farkle always saw in him -- a true passion for what he was doing. Even with all the travel, and long nights, and being away from home.

Farkle comes to join him at the kitchen island, accepting the offer of a cup of decaf coffee for himself. While Stuart preps it, Farkle taps his fingers on the marble surface.

Farkle: Why did you decide to live in New York? Stuart: [ with a scoff ] What kind of a question is that? As if we’re not luxuriating in the most divine penthouse in the country? Have you seen that view? Farkle: Oh, I have. All my life. [ off his proud nod ] But you could’ve chosen any city to base HQ, no? We have satellite offices in Chicago and San Francisco. Hell, that’s not even counting the international ones, and you love Tokyo. Stuart: That I do. Absolutely fantastic city. Farkle: So why New York? How did you figure out it was the right place to… settle? If you could’ve found opportunity anywhere? Stuart: Well, for one, this is one of the financial capitols of the world. There’s no denying that influence. Many businesses dream of setting up shop in this neck of the woods. Then there’s the fact that I simply love this concrete jungle. For all its quirks and grit, it has a charm unlike any other place I’ve ever been. So I undoubtedly have a fair bit of bias.

Stuart finishes pouring the cups of coffee and rejoins Farkle at the island counter, standing opposite him.

Stuart: You want the honest truth though? It was your mother. Farkle: Really? You let a business decision come down to mom? Stuart: First off, let’s not pretend that your mother doesn’t have grand dominion over any number of things in this clan. I’m not so naive to say otherwise. She does matriarch, and she does it very well. It’s one thing I respect immensely about her. But yes, she was the ultimate factor. She had family close, before your grandparents passed, just over in Staten Island. She grew up here, fell in love with it -- you know she’s the one you get your Broadway thirst from. Farkle: So she always claims. Stuart: So while I was falling in love with her, she was convincing me to fall in love with it too. And I suppose somewhere along the way, she did.

So in the simplest of terms, he chose it for love. Sue him. But it doesn��t feel that way, and it didn’t then. They both had their own objectives and careers going on, and lives that were independent of each other. Should something have gone south, God forbid, they would’ve both still thrived in the city. He would’ve continued to grow the business.

Stuart: Like you said, I could’ve done it anywhere. I would’ve found opportunity anywhere. We Minki are innately skilled at that. But Jennifer was here, and that I couldn’t get anywhere else. So we tied the knot, I bought property on Madison Avenue --

And the rest is history. Stuart gestures indicatively to the penthouse around them, driving the point home. Farkle absorbs that, taking a sip of his coffee.

Stuart: Why do you ask? Farkle: No reason. I’ve just been thinking… [ with a shrug ] I’m wondering if Los Angeles is my speed, I guess.

Stuart grows concerned at first. Is everything going well with USC? He knows the falling out with Jordan was an unfortunate turn of events, but otherwise…

Farkle: No, no. It’s fine. I like Los Angeles, and USC. There’s nothing wrong with it. I just… like mother, like son, I suppose. I’ve got my biases too.

He loves New York. Sometimes, he misses it. And tellingly…

Farkle: There are things here that I can’t get in Los Angeles.

He doesn’t elaborate further, but Stuart is known as an industry titan for a reason. He’s whip-smart, and he can read between the lines. He raises his eyebrows in intrigue, but doesn’t nudge, only stating that it’s perfectly fine to contemplate a change. Natural, even, at his age.

Stuart: You know we’d love having you back home. And there are certainly plenty of universities here and theatrical opportunities. Farkle: Yeah. Stuart: Just… think carefully. I trust you, but much like I did, I’d advise you to be absolutely sure it’s worth making the choice. All things considered. When I planted the family business here, it wasn’t just a business decision -- it was a life decision. That’s how I thought of it.

Now, it seems, Farkle may need to make his own. Farkle nods, taking the advice.

Stuart: And whatever you do, don’t say a whisper of this to your mother until you’ve decided. If she gets any idea that you’re thinking of coming back here, she will go berserk out of happiness.

Farkle laughs. Stuart offers up his mug, signaling a gentle toast, and Farkle matches it. They lightly knock their drinks together.

INT. ERIC’S CAR - DAY

And a car door slams, Riley climbing into the backseat of Eric’s sedan. She, Isa, and Josh are all geared up to go, the latter in the passenger seat while Eric takes the driver’s seat. He’s running through a list of last-minute checks in his head. Do they have the bags? Did they lock the door? Is the oven off?

Josh: Gee, I think so. You only checked it about seventeen times. Eric: Passports? Riley: [ holding hers up ] Check. Eric: Tickets? Isa: Check. They’re, you know, on our phones these days. Eric: And everyone has everything? Are we missing anything important? [ craning his neck around ] My tuxedo was in my duffle, right? Josh: Oh, was that what that black bag was? I thought it was a trash bag, I may have dropped it by the curb on the way out…

Eric nearly unbuckles his seatbelt and rushes to salvage it, but Josh, Isa, and Riley pull him back. He was kidding! It was a joke!

Isa: His blood pressure probably just spiked. Do you want to kill him before we even get to the airport? Josh: Sorry, all right. My bad. No jokes, message received. [ slouching slightly ] This is going to be a fun wedding, huh…

Riley coaches Eric through a couple of deep breaths, reminding him it’s all going to work out. They’ve got everything, they checked off their list two times already. All there is left to do is get going.

Eric nods, taking one more centering breath. He glances over his shoulder to confirm Isa is there, that he isn’t leaving a whole person behind, to which they give him a peace sign. He smiles lightly at that, then turns back to face the road ahead.

Eric: All right. Europe, here we come. Allons-y!

INT. LUCAS’S APARTMENT - DAY

Rollout is much calmer with Lucas, who is patiently waiting for Jack to come pick him up. Grace is helping make sure he has everything tucked away into his small and ratty suitcase.

Grace: Hopefully it will endure the flight. We need to make sure to get some new ones before you go to Davis. Lucas: It’s fine. It works well enough. Grace: The last thing you need is to lose all the belongings you do have because your suitcase disintegrates mid-flight. If you’re going to be flying back and forth much more often, we’ll want to make sure you can do it without disaster.

With him, disaster is always a risk. Once they’ve run through the rest of the mini travel checklist, Grace suddenly remembers something.

Grace: I have one more thing. One second.

Lucas watches her shuffle into the kitchen, confused. When she returns, she’s carrying a plain envelope.

Grace: I was hoping you could pass along this letter for me. They should be a guest at the wedding. I’m not sure how involved she’ll be, but… I’m praying she’ll be there. If you need help, Jack should know where to point you.

She hands him the letter. He gets a better look, where his mother has simply written one word on the front. “Rach.”

Lucas is open to playing messenger, but he has a million questions.

Lucas: Who do you know that lives in -- ?

He doesn’t get the chance to finish. There’s a knock at the door, Grace jogging over to let Jack inside. He greets her cheerfully, accepting her soft congratulations on the upcoming festivities. Then he turns to Lucas, clapping his hands together.

Jack: Ready to go?

Lucas nods, slinging his backpack over his shoulder. While Grace thanks Jack again for taking him on the trip, Lucas kneels down and secures the envelope, tucking it into the front pocket of his bag.

INT. JFK INTERNATIONAL AIRPORT - MONTAGE - DAY

A quick montage ensues of our gang arriving at the airport, dragging their luggage through the terminal and going through customs. Given the international travel, it’s quite the process, although admittedly much easier than their UK journey last year considering it’s far less people and everyone is responsible for themselves.

Though that doesn’t spare Eric from feeling chaperone-like stress. He has to resist the urge to do a head count.

INT. JFK INTERNATIONAL AIRPORT - TERMINAL - DAY

Finally, they make it through, waiting for their plane at the gate. Eric collapses into a waiting area seat next to Isa, who is mentally preparing for the long flight and even longer social marathon ahead. They’ve got their noise-canceling headphones preemptively around their neck. They toss Eric a side-eye as he releases a monumental sigh.

Isa: Isn’t getting married supposed to be a joyous occasion? I don’t think it’s supposed to be this taxing. Eric: Oh, ho ho, that’s where you’re wrong, my friend. Getting married is exactly this taxing. In some ways, that’s where I’m getting my comfort from. If I’m this stressed, I must be doing it right.

Isa shakes their head, but commends him for at least eating, nodding to the pre-flight snack he bought in the terminal. As he starts to chew on it, he prods Isa for how they’re feeling about the whole affair. Not too overwhelmed, he hopes?

Eric: I’m very happy you’re going to be part of this day with me. I hope I’m not putting too much pressure on you. Isa: Oh, no. No… it’s fine. I’m happy to be part of it, too. Eric: Good. I’m glad. [ with a smile ] Are you excited to have all your family in one place for a change? Let alone somewhere so different.

What definition of family does he mean, exactly? Their little, cobbled together unit of weirdness? The MacNamaras, who have been invited to attend? Their friends who have been corralled as cheap wedding entertainment; the entire Matthews clan they’re about to be cloistered with for the first time in full?

Whatever definition, Isa is flustered by all of it. When Eric put it so plainly like that, it doesn’t feel so invigorating as it does terrifying. Change is challenging enough -- how are they supposed to stomach navigating watching all their worlds collide without getting vertigo?

They have to regardless of how they feel, though, so they assume they better suck it up. They’re saved from having to answer the question when they spot Farkle arriving through security, a bit later than the rest. They perk up and excuse themselves, claiming they’re going to go say hi. Eric doesn’t stop them, watching them go with slight amusement.

Farkle notices Isa approaching once he gets his bearings, smiling automatically in spite of himself. They mirror it, picking up their pace a little bit. It’s the first they’ve seen of each other since Los Angeles -- since… well, everything -- and the buzz they feel is familiar yet entirely brand new. Isa doesn’t think they have any idea what to say, yet somehow, that doesn’t seem to matter.

It truly doesn’t matter anyway. Just as Farkle opens his mouth, only a few feet left between them, they’re interrupted. Maya intercepts out of left field, not even realizing Isa is there as she veers in front of Farkle and takes his arms.

Maya: There you are! I was about to file a missing beanpole report. I would’ve made a scene to stop the plane from taking off, I hope you understand. Farkle: Oh, how generous of you. Maya: I know. I’m such a good friend. Now come on, we have to do a terminal mall crawl. I am dying for some Cheez-Its.

She drags Farkle off without looking back, effectively canceling any reunion Isa was planning in their head. As he gets pulled away, Farkle tosses Isa an apologetic look. He mouths a word at them -- later?

Isa manages a smile, nodding in agreement. It’s a promise, which is better than nothing.

A few seats away, Riley has her laptop open and on her lap, guarding Jack and Lucas’s belongings while the two of them went off to find food. She has webpages open to do research… all geared towards programs, opportunities, and schools in Northern California.

She shuts the computer when Lucas returns, giving him her undivided attention as he drops into the seat next to hers. He hands her the food he dutifully retrieved for her and she thanks him.

Riley: You didn’t swipe this, did you? Lucas: Nah. Not worth it here. I’m not trying to get put in flight jail days before Jack’s wedding. Or ever, for that matter. Riley: And flight jail is so much worse than… normal jail? Lucas: Just don’t care for airports that much. Or flying, really. The whole cramped, confined travel thing… not my favorite.

Coming from booth boy -- but suppose that was out of necessity, not preference. Riley gives him an affectionate head tilt, elbowing him lightly.

Riley: Well you might want to get used to it. Soon-to-be Californian. Lucas: Funny. Grace was making the same comments this morning. Riley: And she’s wise for that. Before you know it, we may be taking many more flights in a year.

The phrasing slips out unintentionally, without a second thought, but Lucas catches it.

We may be.

He hears it, and immediately tenses up. The manifestation of it, of this world where Riley follows him, sends this wave of adrenaline through him that he can’t identify and can’t explain. It’s not aversion, but it’s not happy either. It’s not excitement.

As usual, Riley notices his shift in demeanor. She touches his forearm.

Riley: You okay? Lucas: Yeah. Yeah, just… um, a little nervous.

Riley smiles, assuring him it’ll be fine. It’ll be over before they know it. She encourages him to focus on his food, get his blood sugar nice and stable before takeoff.

At the other end of the gate, there is far less stress amongst the Adams peanut gallery. They’re all just high on the fact that they get to go to Europe, much more affordably than they would otherwise, so the spirits are merry and bright in this corner.

In fact, they’re almost punchy. It might be the early morning hour, but the group is downright giggly as they chatter and discuss the trip pre-flight. DYLAN ORLANDO, of course, is the ringleader of this bunch, keeping up the lively conversation and going back and forth with Zay and Yindra. Charlie and ASHER GARCIA watch in amusement, as do Nigel and JADE BEAMON. She’s currently got him pulled onto her lap, hugging him close to make up for the fact that there’s no seats left in their corner.

Yindra: You are a clown, Orlando. Straight up. Dylan: [ with a bow ] Thank you, thank you very much. Zay: You’re gonna embarrass us. You know how all Europeans have this superiority complex because they think they’re all that and Americans are fools that have no class? [ gesturing to him ] Poster child. Asher: Hey, watch it. They also think Americans have enormous egos. Is that your poster gig?

Ooh… the others crack up and poke fun at the barbs, to which Zay rolls his eyes. Charlie grins at him from the seat next to him, nudging his shoulder to get him to loosen up.

Nigel: Honestly, I think we’re all gonna look like clowns. None of us can speak the language. Zay: Um, speak for yourself. I’m semi-fluent. Jade: So is Farkle. Charlie: I barely speak English, so. Yindra: Bitch, you speak like three and half languages. With love and devotion, shut it, Euroslut. Dylan: We don’t need to speak the language to be understood. It is the city of love, my friends! Mes amys! Jade: I don’t think that’s -- Zay: It’s pronounced “ah-mees” --

Dylan ignores them, on a roll. He jumps up to his feet and throws his arms out.

Dylan: The language of love is universal, babes! If you feel it, in your soul, then the city will feel you!

Oui, oui! The group of them applaud Dylan theatrically, Zay included, though begrudgingly. But Dyl Pickle is not entirely wrong. The spirit of romance is in the air -- and it’s going to take them all the way across the Atlantic!

As the sounds of flights taking off and landing fill the soundscape, mixing with the applause…

EXT. INTERNATIONAL SKIES - DAY

The airplane makes its way through the clouds, then fades into a descent as the day turns to night and the city comes to light below.

Flight Attendant: Ladies and gentlemen, we welcome you to Paris.

INT. CHARLES DE GAULLE AIRPORT - TERMINAL - NIGHT

After the crew retains their baggage, Jack and Eric lead the pack out of the claim area towards the door. It’s there that they meet their certified international guide for the trip -- RACHEL “RAE” M.G. (40). She is tall, shapely, and absolutely gorgeous, with fiery red hair and an even more fiery personality.

To the celebrity-attuned members of the bunch, this is a crazy sighting indeed. Zay and Yindra’s jaws drop open, and Maya starts smacking Farkle’s arm next to her.

Zay: No fucking way. Yindra: Is that -- ? It’s not. Jade, starstruck: International supermodel Rae M.G.?

To others, the name means nothing. Isa looks lost, as does Lucas -- though the latter isn’t surprising.

Nigel, in a whisper: Who?

Charlie tilts his head, equally unsure, but more focused on trying to figure out why her face feels so familiar when he’s certain he’s never heard the name.

(He won’t remember, but it’s undoubtedly because she was the kind stranger who helped him in this very airport almost a year ago in “Summer Of ‘21.” We here at AMBITION love our plants!)

Rae isn’t concerned with whether the pups know her or not, though. She’s fully zeroed in on Jack, who she tackles and embraces with an epic bear hug. He returns it, shocking the youngins even further.

Maya: Principal Hunter is friends with international supermodel Rae M.G.?

Apparently so! Once she’s released him, she takes his face and pinches his cheeks.

Rae: You made it. Oh, you’re here! [ turning to them ] Oh, you’re all here! Eric: Good to see you. Thanks for all your help arranging this. Rae: Please. Absolutely no thanks necessary. Anything for a friend, that’s what I always say.

And she’s more than thrilled to meet Jack’s posse. Could they all introduce themselves? She quickly goes down the line, shaking hands with everyone and charming them with her infectious energy. Josh seems a little flush in the cheeks, flustered as he gets through his name; Dylan, on the other hand, doesn’t miss a beat, matching her key with ease.

More than anything, Rae is excited to welcome them properly to her city. She transplanted here long ago, so it basically feels like home, and she hopes while they’re here it’ll feel the same for them. They needn’t worry about their bags -- the lovely men she’s hired to take them to the hotel will handle that.

Yindra: [ as the men roll their things away ] I could get used to that… Maya: So true.

As for them, they’ll be following her to the party bus. It’s time to show them the beauty and effortless allure that is Paris -- in the only way AMBITION knows how, of course!

EXT. CHARLES DE GAULLE AIRPORT - NIGHT

Song Cue ♫ ♪ “Paris Holds The Key (To Your Heart)” as performed by Anastasia Original Movie Cast Recording || Performed by AMBITION Ensemble

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

Now, while the official playlist contains the Broadway version because the film soundtrack is criminally not on Spotify, we must insist that you go listen to the original movie version of this epic ensemble number to get the full experience. Allez, allez!

As the horns and big brass kick off at the start, our ensemble piles into the promised party bus. The driver takes off away from the curb, speeding onto les rues…

EXT. PARIS STREETS - NIGHT

And arriving in the heart of the city, depositing them all into the night. Rae leads the way, laughing into her “ooh la la” as she takes in her beloved metropolis. She breathes it in, then spins to face the travelers who have assembled on the cobblestone behind her.

She launches into the opening lines, welcoming us to her domain. She plucks a flower from a street vendor’s bundle -- who is dumbstruck to see Rae M.G. walking the streets so plainly -- and hands it to Eric, patting his cheek as she says it’s on her. Her charm is unbeatable, mesmerizing and roping them all in with little effort and a heaping dose of excitement.

Forget where you’re from You’re in France! Children, come I’ll show that French “joi de vivre!”

And then we’re off, beginning our performance montage through the dazzling world of Paris. As she goes, Rae naturally pulls people into the dance -- starting with Jack and Eric, who take the first lines from our usual ensemble as they waltz down the sidewalk together. Rae is delighted, encouraging the rest to follow as the ensemble picks up the vocal slack.

Ooh la la! Ooh la la! Ooh la la!

EXT. PARIS STREETS - BRIDGE - NIGHT

Then our kiddos take over, tackling the next few lines as they run through the streets. As they cross one of the bridges over the Seine, Nigel takes his solo and dramatically reaches out over the edge towards the Notre Dame; when Yindra sings hers immediately after, she spins into him and he catches her waist just in time. She throws her arm up and her head back.

Jade has a spoken declaration of her own, admiration palpable at the artistry of the city, and then we’re off again. Sprinting back to the other side of the bridge --

EXT. NOTRE DAME - NIGHT

Then we arrive at the square outside Notre Dame, where a crowd has begun to gather, drawn by Rae’s presence. Even so, she has one moment of a personal aside with Isa, where she offers some sage -- if unknowingly apt -- wisdom.

When your heart says don’t The French say do!

When the idea of “can-can” is invoked, the tour becomes a dance party, what feels like a miniature outdoor festival of joy and music right there in the middle of Paris. Rae pulls Jack into the leg-kicking folly despite his initial protests, to the grand entertainment of his former students, who quickly join into the revelry. Oui! Wee!

The world slows down as the music winds down, ebbing to a gentle twinkle as Lucas takes his solo. He stands amidst the sparkling celebration, a bit awkward and always feeling out of place, but grounded by the one thing that has transfixed his attention.

Riley. Twirling with her friends, beaming bright and laughing with unbridled glee. The most beautiful subject in any setting -- pure joy in any location on Earth.

Paris holds the key to her heart But she can’t fathom us apart

Unless she throws it away. Unless she chooses to snuff it out by traveling too far from her home. They won’t know until it happens; they won’t see her fire burn out until it’s too late. Maybe it will, maybe it won’t. He doesn’t know.

But the fear of it is enough. That she could end up like his mother. The paralyzing possibility that Riley loses that beauty, that natural spark -- and he’s the reason why.

No more pretend My next step; her dead end…

But there’s no time for your maudlin musings, Lucas, we’re having a fête right now! So time speeds up again, the ensemble winds back into full power, and we crescendo towards our finale…

EXT. EIFFEL TOWER - NIGHT

Just beyond the Eiffel Tower, which is aglow in bright, bubbly hues behind them. The full ensemble, as well as what feels like half of Paris has gathered, creating a truly musical-like moment as they barrel through the final lines of the performance. Rae leads front and center, the ensemble fanned out in windows behind her, hitting sharp, energetic choreography and singing with full flourish and flair.

Solo lines are still scattered throughout, though, including Zay’s. When he sings “you’ll be trés joli and so smart,” he leans over to Charlie next to him and playfully takes his face, wiggling his chin. Charlie scrunches his face in response.

On the next line, ANGELA MOORE and SHAWN HUNTER appear, waltzing themselves across the front of the line. Shawn even dares to sing a line of his own, albeit terribly off-key, which only makes the whole thing feel even more lighthearted and exuberant.

Paris holds the key…

As we build to the triumphant conclusion, Farkle gets the last thoughtful line -- casting a glance towards Isa on Rae’s opposite side. For a moment, all is quiet, Farkle holding onto that hopeful breath.

To their…

Then the ensemble explodes into the final “heart,” bringing us to a resounding, splashy finish. Our cast descends into laughter through the remaining ooh la las, then hit their final marks, the Eiffel Tower lighting up in the Adams colors of red, white, and gold behind them.

Finit! Welcome, one and all, to Paris.

INT. PARISIAN BRASSERIE - NIGHT

Our festivities kick off right away, each respective groom’s party gathering for a night out to celebrate everyone’s arrival. In the case of Jack, this takes place at a brasserie, or pub, a cozy and bustling hole-in-the-wall type joint. Their hostess, Rae, has commandeered them a corner booth in the back of the tavern, sectioned off to offer all of them some space and privacy (since apparently, it wouldn’t be out of pocket for her to be recognized).

Lucas would be more stunned by the whole Principal-Jack-being-friends-with-a-supermodel thing, but for starters, he couldn’t name any supermodels off the top of his head even if he tried. That, and he’s much more concerned with trying not to seem as out of place as he feels, seated in the booth as one of Jack’s best men with all these other much older friends.

All of whom, naturally, have known Jack for much longer -- a lifetime beyond Lucas’s brief crossover through Adams. There’s Shawn, of course, and the mysteriously charming Rae who is apparently acting as the officiator for the ceremony. Then there’s another one of Jack’s buddies from college, BEN, a fellow former history major and someone Lucas has never heard of in his life.

At least Shawn is a familiar face, but suffice to say, it’s hard not to feel even more awkward and in his head than usual. He tries to follow the conversation as the old friends catch up, but he’s certain he won’t have anything to contribute. Even when Rae does her best to loop him in, trying to hear more about him, she’s quickly distracted by one of the other men and pulled away.

Just as well. Note to self, don’t befriend your forty-year-old principal, or else you end up in situations like these. Lucas quietly sips his water and silently observes the strangeness of watching Jack prove he had a life before Adams.

INT. PARISIAN CAFE - NIGHT

It’s going about the same for Isa, who is having a similar experience at Eric’s gathering. Although half of his inner circle are just family -- Josh, Cory, and MORGAN MATTHEWS -- it doesn’t make Isa feel any more prepared. They’ve never met Josh nor Morgan, and all they know about the former is that he’s done some stuff with Maya since she moved to Los Angeles. He seems a bit hard to get to know, too, effortlessly aloof at first appearances in contrast to his siblings and distracted half the time, lost in his own head.

If he’s spent time with Maya, then who knows what she’s told him -- what negative opinion he’s formed about Isa.

That, and to be frank, these Matthews siblings are always bickering. Eric has always said his family has their flaws, but they mean well and love each other. That may be true, but my God, can they argue like nobody’s business. Cory and Josh, especially, seem built to butt heads.

Isa: [ mostly to themselves ] If this is what Lucas and I sound like, we need to change that immediately.

No, Isa, even you two aren’t as bad as the Matthews. The other half of Eric’s groom-circle is more approachable, though, consisting of his childhood best friend JASON (41) -- his chosen best man -- and high school pal LINDA (40). They seem to get a kick out of Isa, in turn, because thanks to “training” from Val early on, they can hold their beer with the rest of them.

Jason: Get a load of this one. You’re what, half my size and unfazed? I’ve had half a pint and I’m already feeling floaty.

They’re fun, too, because boy do they have some fun tales about Eric from when he was their age.

Linda: He ever tell you about how he had beard girlfriends in high school? [ wiggling her fingers in a wave ] Yours truly. I was one of them. Eric: That is not true. You were not my beard. Linda: Um, yes I surely was. We were best friends in freshman English, clicked like that. I admit I had a little thing for him then, too, because gosh if you weren’t damn cute. Jason: Still is. [ squishing his face ] Look at this mug. Linda: But I always got the sense he wasn’t into me like that. Sweet as he was to me, though, and such a good friend. Then in junior year, after I join the cheer squad, he asks me if I want to be his girlfriend -- not like, asking me out, but because he said his mom was “worried” he hadn’t a serious girlfriend before and he didn’t want her to worry. Morgan: Aww. I never knew that. [ fondly ] Eric, that’s so lame. Linda: So we “dated” for like six months, just so your parents would get off his back. Eric: Yeah, but that’s not being my beard. It wasn’t about being gay. It was about me freaking out and not knowing what the hell I was doing with my life. Linda: Same difference. Josh: Oh, is that the criteria? Guess I need a beard too, then. Jason: I don’t know, Joshie, at this point I’m not sure I believe you could grow one.

The stories are enjoyable, and the mood jubilant, but it’s all a bit overwhelming. The banter bounces around so fast Isa can barely keep up, let alone even try to get a word in edgewise. If this is just the first night, Isa isn’t sure how they’re going to fare over the next couple days…

But they’re there, and that’s what counts. Eric offers Isa a sheepish smile after that story, clearly a bit embarrassed but happy they’re there to share it with.

They return the gesture, signaling they’re glad to be there too.

INT. PARIS HOTEL - D&A ROOM - NIGHT

Meanwhile, the vibes are somehow even livelier with the rest of the young cohort. A bunch of them have gathered in Dylan and Asher’s room to hang out -- Riley, Yindra, Jade, and the aforementioned roomies. They’ve got groovy music playing and are very much enjoying their legal freedoms in Europe, having acquired a bottle of champagne to split amongst them. The mood is jubilant, already filled with giggles and chatter, and why shouldn’t it be? They’re in Paris, babes!

Nigel makes it to the room just as Riley is starting to pour drinks, Dylan shutting the door behind him. As he joins the party and plops down on the floor between Yindra and Jade, Riley looks towards the door.

Riley: Where are Zay and Charlie? Are they coming? Nigel: I didn’t see them. Zay hasn’t texted me. Asher: I’m sure they’re enjoying something in Paris… Yindra: [ through giddy giggles ] Ew.

When in France, do as the French do… Dylan bursts into maniacal laughter. Nigel just looks confused, but no one bothers to fill him in -- Jade simply gives him an affectionate pat on the cheek.

Riley brings them back into focus, handing out paper cups of champagne. Yindra jumps up to help her and gets the rest of them to quiet down so they can toast.

Riley: Okay, so, first off, raise your glasses to Jack and Eric, without whom we would not be here. Yindra: Hear, hear, baby. Dylan: To the Principal Daddies. Jade: Please don’t -- Nigel: Here’s to planning your wedding last-minute and hiring your former students to be your wedding entertainment because they’re cheap AF.

Hear, hear, baby! The group cheers, Riley trying to hold her laughter together so she can finish her sentiments. She clears her throat.

Riley: And here’s to us, for all surviving our first year in the real world. Betting that the next one will be even better. Yindra: God, sure fucking hope so. Jade: I’ll drink to that. Dylan: And one more toast to our fearless leader, one Riley Erica Matthews -- can I get a hells yeah?

You sure can! The rest of them echo his call, Riley breaking into a grin and throwing an arm around Yindra’s shoulders. To all of the above!

They knock their hotel cups together --

INT. PARIS HOTEL - F&M ROOM - NIGHT

Not everyone is partying tonight, though. Maya is at the vanity in her cramped hotel room, doing her best to focus on her skincare cleansing routine. It’s not easy with Farkle distracting her, as he paces the room nervously behind her. Understandably, he has a lot on his mind.

Farkle: I mean, it’s just like, we haven’t even gotten the chance to speak since we got here. Maybe I should’ve tried harder to catch them when I got back to New York. I just knew there was a lot going on. Maya: I’d say there’s still a lot going on. [ a beat ] Come to think of it, when is there not with our lot? Farkle: I know they’re probably overwhelmed being part of the wedding party, and they don’t want to screw that up. So I don’t want to add to that, you know, by putting any pressure on them. If we talk about stuff, it should be organic. Right?

Maya hums, noncommittal. She barely needs to contribute anyway -- Farkle is filling both sides of the debate all by himself.

Farkle: But what if I’m making it worse by not saying something? Is waiting just like, gonna make things weirder? Or should I be reading more into this? Like, they invited me to be their plus-one to the stuff tomorrow, but if things have changed… I mean, won’t it make things worse if I show up like the ugly duckling who doesn’t fit? Maybe it would be worth it to check in with them. Maya: Well -- Farkle: But no. No, I don’t want -- I don’t want to add onto their plate. If they wanted to talk to me about it, change plans, they would’ve told me. They would’ve reached out. [ deflated ] If they wanted to talk to me at all, actually, they would’ve…

Farkle plops down on the edge of his bed, seemingly having effectively bummed himself out… but then he bounces upright again, back to pacing.

Farkle: But like, I have rights too here, right? Maya: I -- Farkle: I don’t want to make them uncomfortable, but I feel like I have some liberties here. It’s totally reasonable for me to want to talk things through. I mean -- Isa told me they loved me. That’s worth talking about, isn’t it? Shouldn’t we be… if that’s how they actually feel, shouldn’t they be feeling as crazy about this as me? Shouldn’t we be dying to see each other? Maya: Jesus, Farkle, I don’t know! Who do you think I am, Aphrodite?

She says this with all the love in the world, but he needs to get a grip. He was right about one thing, which is that Isa probably hasn’t thought about anything today but getting through the travel and the wedding party obligations. Socializing is hard enough as it is -- socializing with a bunch of 40-somethings has to be torture. But regardless, Maya of all people isn’t going to have the answers he wants.

Maya: I genuinely have no opinion on how you all handle this… thing you’ve got going on. And I’m sure Isa would prefer it that way. But you’re going to see them tomorrow, at this special little brunch no less, so I think you just need to hold your horny little horses until then.

Farkle huffs, slightly embarrassed. Maya blows him an apologetic kiss, but that’s her two cents. As she goes back to moisturizing, she suggests he go down to party with the others so he can blow off some steam.

Maya: I mean, I wouldn’t be caught dead at a Dasher soirée, but you seem like you could afford to get plastered.

INT. PARIS HOTEL - ISA’S ROOM - NIGHT

Just as they suspected, Isa is absolutely exhausted when they finally make it back to their room. They don’t even bother to turn on the lights, shrugging off their jacket and tossing it to the side before collapsing onto their bed with a monumental groan.

This was only the warm-up act. Tomorrow is going to be even longer, even more action-packed, with a lot more attention and stakes. How the fuck are they going to get through it? The anxiety is closing in around them before they can stop it, heightened by the shadows of the dark hotel room. They force themselves to take a deep breath, screwing their eyes shut.

Eric. They will get through it because of Eric. He cared enough to want them in his wedding in the first place. He doesn’t expect anything from them other than their presence. They can manage that. At least they don’t have to actually stand up there in front of everyone like Lucas.

And there’s one more pillar they know they can lean on… Isa reaches for their phone and pulls it open, drafting a text to Farkle.

“Sorry we’ve barely gotten to catch up. I am fucking wiped. Really really looking forward to seeing you tomorrow”

It’ll have to suffice -- it’s all their brain can cobble together right now. They hit send without overthinking it and then toss their phone to the side, rolling onto their stomach and covering their head with a pillow.

INT. PARIS HOTEL - MATTHEWS BROTHERS ROOM - NIGHT

Eric is equally tired, but he doesn’t get to drop right to sleep. He’s sharing a room with Cory and Josh tonight, and right now, the three of them are having an argument about who is going to have to sleep on the chaise lounge.

Josh: Can we not just share a bed for one night like we did on like… several trips throughout our lifetimes? Cory: Ugh, no! We’re grown adults! Josh: I didn’t realize bed-sharing was an age-restricted activity. Eric: Please. I just want to sleep. Cory: Fine, then. You two can share your bed. Josh: Eric shouldn’t have to the night before his damn wedding! He needs his beauty sleep. Eric: [ covering his face with his hands ] What are we even arguing about? Cory: I agree, Joshua -- Josh: Don’t call me that. Cory: Which is why you get to sleep on the chaise! Josh: You always do this shit. How old do I have to get, Cory, before you stop treating me like the runt of the litter? Cory: Oh, please -- Eric: [ to himself ] Spend your last night as a Matthews with your brothers, you said. It’s cute. Symbolic. It’ll be fun, you said.

The petty disagreements of siblinghood definitely have no age restrictions. Thankfully, they’re briefly interrupted tonight by a knock on the door. Eric raises his eyebrows at them.

Eric: You expecting anyone? Cory: No. Josh: I hope it’s Morgan coming to get me out of here. I’d much rather room with her. Cory: Okay, then, GO DO THAT.

Eric rolls his eyes, going to answer the door.

INT. PARIS HOTEL - HALLWAY - NIGHT

Jack is on the other side, getting an earful of Cory and Josh bickering almost immediately. His eyebrows shoot up, mirroring Eric’s surprise at seeing him.

Jack: Am I interrupting something? Eric: As an act of service, yes. What are you doing down here? Jack: Thought I’d come say goodnight. You know, before…

Cory finally notices who is at the door, gasping loudly.

Cory: Eric! Slam the door! Josh: Warm brother-in-law welcome, Cor. You’re off to a strong start. Cory: There’s a reason Eric is in here at all. It’s tradition. You’re not supposed to see each other before, it’s bad luck! Jack: I think that’s technically about the wedding dress… Eric: Which neither of us have. Josh: Bummer. I think both of you should. Cory: Bad luck! Bad luck! Stop talking to each other and find some salt to throw over your shoulders. Josh: I don’t think you should be doling out wisdom about luck in marriages.

Damn, Josh is full of zingers tonight. Eric makes a face and steps out into the hallway before Cory blows a gasket, shutting the door and giving him and Jack a temporary respite of privacy.

Jack: Seems like the brother sleepover is going great. Eric: Why did I think this was a good idea? You’re supposed to talk me out of bad ideas. Jack: It’s cute that you think I have any power over you and your stubborn --

Okay, that’s enough. Eric shushes him.

Eric: How’s it going for you? Jack: Oh, fine. Shawn is already asleep, he crashed basically as soon as we got back. He didn’t get any sleep on the flight, and he always gets jetlagged no matter which direction we went. One lager, and he’s off like a baby. [ with a smile ] Even so, I’m much more looking forward to tomorrow night…

When it’s the two of them again. When it’s them, but also, something more than it was before.

Eric mirrors his smile, letting him take his hand. Jack squeezes it, then brings it up to press a kiss to his knuckles. They hold eye contact all the while, somehow feeling a little like teens going steady again even though they’ve got many years under their belts and they’re on the verge of the rest of their lives together.

Jack: Goodnight, Eric Matthews. Eric: Night, Jackie.

Jack’s smile brightens at the cheeky nickname. He leans closer, closing the distance between them…

The hotel room door swings open, startling them. Cory steps in between them, shooing Jack away.

Cory: Bad. Luck. Go!

All right, all right! Jack raises his hands in surrender, Eric pressing his hands to his eyes in exasperation. Although he backs off, Jack tosses Eric a wink over his shoulder as he retreats down the hall.

Once he’s gone, Cory turns back to Eric.

Cory: Okay, we need you to mediate, because I don’t think Joshua and I are going to be able to work this out by ourselves. Josh: [ from inside ] No need. I already claimed the bed. Cory: What?!

Cory darts back inside, launching back into annoying brotherly spatting with Josh who apparently has already gotten under the covers and tucked himself in tight to the bed Cory thought was his. Eric takes a deep, calming breath, exhaling through his nose.

Less than twenty-four hours to go… as he steps back inside and shuts the door…

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