Time flew by. Marcus spent his days developing Netflicks with Ryan and Arya while juggling school. At the pace they were going, they'd finish well before the six-month deadline.
On March 15th, Marcus received his second payment from Summit—the remaining $185,000.
This time, Nathan helped him find an accountant. Marcus learned quickly that handling this kind of money wasn't simple. He needed someone who knew the tax code inside and out—someone who could help him take every legal deduction, structure his income properly, and file quarterly estimates so the IRS wouldn't hit him with penalties.
A good accountant could save him thousands by knowing which expenses were deductible and how to time his income properly.
Nathan had been right about not dodging taxes.
But Marcus still felt the sting. 'If only I were a billionaire,' he thought bitterly.
In his previous life—and probably in this one too—the ultra-rich barely paid taxes. They got paid in stock options instead of cash, borrowed against those assets, and lived off loans. Technically zero income. Technically no taxes. Completely legal.
Meanwhile, here he was, a sixteen-year-old kid getting a massive chunk taken out of his check.
Moving on.
Netflicks was coming together. After weeks of work, the website was functional—you could upload a video, stream it, create an account. But it wasn't ready for launch yet. They still needed a Content Delivery Network to handle streaming traffic, a proper domain, SSL certificates for security, and reliable web hosting.
All of that cost money. Thousands of dollars.
Fortunately, Marcus had the budget now.
But before he could officially launch, he needed to establish an actual company. That meant registration, trademarks, all the legal paperwork.
Arya had been surprisingly helpful with this. She'd researched trademark searches online and found that "Netflicks" wasn't taken. She immediately reserved the name.
But there was a problem: Marcus was only sixteen. He couldn't legally register a company on his own.
He needed Nathan's help.
---
"Wait—you want to start a company now?" Nathan stared at him across the kitchen table.
The kid kept surprising him. First, he'd wanted to make a movie—ridiculous at the time, but somehow Marcus had turned $15,000 into $370,000. Nathan had assumed his son would ride that momentum and become a filmmaker.
Now he was asking to register a business?
"I've got a solid plan, Dad," Marcus said. "This is gonna be huge. It's a website where people can watch movies and shows from home. Streaming. Online."
Nathan rubbed his forehead. "Hold on—you what?"
Marcus sighed and explained it again, slower this time.
A few minutes later, Nathan was staring at him like he'd grown a second head. "Okay, it's a cool idea, I'll give you that. But it's not as simple as you're making it sound."
"You'll understand better once the site's finished," Marcus said confidently.
"What's the company name again?"
"Netflicks."
Nathan repeated it slowly. "Netflicks." He shook his head. "You really want me to help you register this thing?"
"Yeah."
Nathan sighed heavily, massaging his temples. "Alright. Fine. I'll help."
Marcus grinned.
"But I still don't get the business model," Nathan said. "Why would people pay monthly for movies and shows when they can just get cable or rent DVDs?"
Marcus just smiled. Nathan clearly didn't see the goldmine here.
Subscription streaming was so profitable that eventually, every major studio in Hollywood would want a piece. Even with their massive IP libraries, they wouldn't be able to compete with whoever established dominance first—especially if that company invested in original content.
Then Marcus had an idea. "Dad, trust me on this. Once Netflicks takes off, I'll put your movies on the platform."
Nathan perked up slightly.
"Maybe I can even have you produce original films or shows exclusively for the site. I'll pay you licensing fees." Marcus leaned forward. "Netflicks is going to dominate home entertainment."
Nathan laughed. "Kid, success is getting to your head. You can talk big all you want, but theaters aren't going anywhere. And cable's not going down without a fight."
He didn't believe for a second that some streaming platform could overtake traditional entertainment.
Marcus just smiled. 'We'll see.'
---
Now that Marcus had Nathan's help, he needed to prepare the articles of incorporation. It was a hassle—tons of paperwork, legal terminology he barely understood.
But Arya turned out to be a lifesaver.
Her family were lawyers. Her older sister, Diana Stone, specialized in business law. When Arya mentioned what Marcus was doing, Diana offered to help draft the incorporation documents—pro bono, as a favor.
Marcus couldn't believe his luck. Without Arya, he would've had to hire an attorney and drop a few thousand dollars just on filing paperwork.
He'd probably need to hire a lawyer eventually as the company grew, but for now? This was a huge money saver.
---
Meanwhile, while his company was becoming a reality, something unexpected happened at school.
"Did you guys hear? Frank made a horror movie and he's hosting a screening at his house!"
"Wait, his house? How's that gonna fit everyone?"
"Dude, his dad's a VP at some Fortune 500 company. They've got a massive place in Toluca Lake with a legit home theater."
Marcus overheard the chatter in the hallway and walked over to Arya and Ryan. "Frank actually made a movie?"
"Yeah, apparently," Arya said, trying not to laugh.
"Why does this feel like déjà vu?" Ryan muttered.
"Because that guy literally ripped off Marcus," Katherine's voice cut in.
They turned to see her approaching.
"Ripped off?" Arya raised an eyebrow.
Katherine quickly explained how Frank had pitched her the exact same concept—handycam horror film, just like Marcus's—and she'd turned him down flat.
Arya burst out laughing. "Oh my God, he actually copied you?"
Just then, Frank himself strolled up with his crew trailing behind. "I hear someone laughing. That you, Arya?"
He flashed what he probably thought was a charming smile and stepped a little too close.
Arya backed up, visibly uncomfortable. "Personal space, Frank."
He ignored that. "Anyway, I'm inviting you guys to my screening. Took a lot of hard work to make this thing." His friends nodded along like backup singers.
He handed tickets to Arya and Ryan, then turned to Marcus.
"You should definitely come too, Marcus." He held onto Marcus's ticket a second longer than necessary, his eyes challenging. "I'm really looking forward to hearing what you think."
Marcus smiled and took the ticket. "Sure. Wouldn't miss it."
Frank smirked and walked off with his crew.
Arya rolled her eyes. "That guy's so full of himself."
"His dad's loaded," Ryan said with a shrug. "Probably thinks he can buy talent."
Katherine looked at Marcus. "You're not bothered by this?"
Marcus just smiled. "Not at all. Actually, I'm kind of curious what he came up with."
Why would he be mad? If anything, it was amusing. Frank had no idea what he was walking into.
---
After school, Marcus and his friends headed to Frank's place for the screening. Katherine came along, and so did Principal Green—she'd been curious ever since hearing about it.
The house was impressive. Three stories, manicured lawn, actual columns by the entrance. Inside was even more ridiculous—marble floors, a freaking elevator, art that probably cost more than most people's cars.
"Why's this guy even at NoHo High?" someone whispered.
Ryan had an answer for that. "His parents want him to go to public school. Build character or whatever. Plus NoHo's got decent test scores and it's close to their house."
Made sense. Rich parents loved the idea of their kids being "normal" while still living in a mansion.
Frank was clearly in his element, playing the gracious host. He had catering set up—actual catering, not just pizza—and made sure everyone got food before leading them to the home theater.
The theater itself was legit. Stadium seating, a massive screen, surround sound. This was where rich people watched movies.
Marcus settled in with Arya, Ryan, and Katherine. The lights dimmed.
The movie started.
The female lead was actually pretty—probably one of Frank's older brother's friends or something. Her acting was... passable. Not great, but not terrible.
Then Frank appeared on screen as the male lead.
His acting was painful. Stiff delivery, awkward pauses, zero emotion.
The plot was absurd: Frank and the actress were trapped in a basement after hearing strange noises upstairs. But instead of building tension, the movie was a mess of bizarre camera angles—random close-ups of their feet, a five-second shot focused entirely on a doorknob, one angle that was literally pointed at the actress's rear end for no reason.
The audio was worse. You could hear Frank's friends behind the camera whispering directions. At one point, someone sneezed and it was still in the final cut.
And Frank's friends—who were supposed to be "mysterious figures" upstairs—were clearly just goofing around. One of them walked past a window wearing a ski mask and eating a sandwich.
Marcus bit his lip, trying not to laugh. Next to him, Arya had her hand over her mouth. Ryan's shoulders were shaking. Even Katherine looked like she was in pain trying to hold it in.
The whole theater was silent, but it was the kind of silence where everyone was fighting for their life not to crack.
Thirty minutes in, it happened.
On screen, Frank's character dramatically threw himself against the basement door, shouting "We have to get out!" But the door was clearly unlocked—it swung open immediately and he just... fell through it and landed face-first on the floor.
A girl in the back lost it. "HAHAHA! No way—he just—he just fell!"
That was it. The dam broke.
"HAHAHAHA!"
The entire theater erupted.
"Why is the camera on her ass?!" someone yelled between laughs.
"Who directed this?!" another voice shouted, clearly knowing the answer but unable to stop themselves.
"Did you guys hear the cameraman sneeze?!"
"The guy upstairs is eating a SANDWICH!"
Marcus was doubled over, holding his stomach. Arya was wheezing. Ryan had tears streaming down his face. Even Principal Green was covering her mouth, her shoulders shaking with barely suppressed laughter.
Frank stood frozen at the side of the theater, his face pale. He'd wanted to scare people. Terrify them.
Instead, they were laughing their asses off.
He blinked rapidly, fighting back tears, and quietly slipped out of the room.
---
Frank's screening wasn't just a disaster. It was a catastrophe.
After that first eruption of laughter thirty minutes in, the audience couldn't stop. Every ridiculous scene—and there were many—had people cracking up. The "entity" haunting them was so obviously just Frank's friends in Halloween masks that even a five-year-old would've seen through it.
Frank had been completely humiliated.
At school the next day, it was all anyone could talk about. Ironically, it had completely overshadowed Marcus's actual horror movie. Everyone was sharing their favorite terrible moments from Frank's film.
"Did you see when the 'ghost' tripped over a cable?"
"That zoom-in on the sandwich killed me."
Frank, of course, was nowhere to be found. He hadn't shown up to class since the screening.
Most students and teachers didn't seem to care. But Katherine did.
She approached Marcus between classes, clearly concerned. "I think he just wanted to be like you, you know? I don't think he meant any harm." She sighed. "Now he won't come to school. I've tried calling him—no answer."
Marcus nodded. "Yeah. That reaction probably crushed him."
Arya and Ryan were standing nearby and joined the conversation.
"Honestly, I don't think his movie was that bad," Arya offered.
Everyone stared at her.
She caved immediately. "Okay, fine, it was bad. But it worked as a comedy. I laughed my ass off."
"Best comedy I've seen all year," Ryan agreed with a grin.
Marcus froze.
Comedy. Not horror—comedy.
An idea hit him.
Frank's movie had actually made a bigger splash at school than his own film. It had gone viral within NoHo High.
That meant something.
And suddenly, Marcus knew exactly what to do with it.
He could get the rights to Frank's movie and stream it on Netflicks. Market it as a comedy. It was so bad it was good—and that had value.