04.10.

25
Gabriel Almonte

ROUGH DRAFT
You can’t live your life in dreams…

EXT. CHURCH PARKING LOT - DAY

A white bus opens it’s door and a flood of children run off laughing and
screaming. After the initial burst, three girls get off laughing. After them, A
LITTLE BOY steps off. He’s walking slow and somber.

All the parents in the parking lot are hugging and kissing their kids. Lots of
kids are laughing. The Boy keeps walking until he reaches a black limousine
parked at the far end.

A chauffeur (old heavyset white guy) stands holding the door open waiting
for The Boy.

CHAUFFEUR: Ey! Look who it is.

He holds out his hand for a high-five. The kid jumps, hifives him, and slides
into the limo.

The Boy’s FATHER (Rick Ross) is sitting by the far door. The limo starts off.
The Boy and his father sit in silence for what feels like 8 hours.

FATHER: How was camp?

The Boy shrugs.

FATHER (CONCERENED): You make any friends?

THE BOY: No.

The father laughs under his breath...but the laugh turns into a smh.

FATHER: Elise made you something special tonight.

THE BOY: Frito pie.

FATHER: I don’t know. She didn’t say-

THE BOY: (cutting him off) It’s Frito pie.

Silence. Father stares at him, then looks out the window.

EXT. MANSION - DAY

The Chauffeur helps Father out the car. The Boy jumps out and walks toward
the front of his home. The Mansion is dope. Very Big, and not gaudy. It looks
classic.
INT. MANSION - DAY

An infinity pool lines the horizon in the backyard. A spiral staircase fades up
the wall and into the master bedroom upstairs. You can see all of this from
the foyer, which has a large Buddha statue in the center of it. The place is
very clean. Someone seems to care, or is paid to care.

The Father’s phone rings:

FATHER: Hello.

PHONE VOICE: Hello, this is the Califax collection-

Father hangs up. His cell phone goes off. The Boy walks into the kitchen. It’s
a big kitchen. There’s a chef making food. He waves to The Boy. The Boy
throws up a deuce. He gets a s’more Pop tart, then walks back out.

INT. BOY’S ROOM - DAY

The Boy walks in and drops his backpack and jacket in the doorway. He kicks
off his shoes. They fly across the room, hit the wall, and fall in a pile of shoes
on the ground. We see there’s a big black/brown stain on the wall where The
Boy's been kicking shoes for years. Doesn’t look like he ever wears the same
shoe twice.

The Boy rips the bag of pop tart open with his mouth as he sits at his desk
and opens his laptop. There’s a picture of a woman holding a child. She’s
wearing one of those fly tracksuits from 1995. The one’s people wore a lot
during the centennial Olympics.
He starts checking his mail. His friend “FAM” sent him something that says
“this is you” with a link. The Boy clicks the link and a video of a woman
blowing a horse comes up. The Boy watches the video for longer than you
should watch a horse blowing video. He closes the video.

He goes onto [Link]. There’s a new Rich Homie Quan song

out. It’s listed as “VERY HOTTTTTTT”. The Boy looks in the comment section,
reading what people are saying.

“This nigga sound like a broke-ass Future! (crying emoji)” is the top
comment.

The Boy stares. Then types “fuck u niggers” in the comments.

He waits. He takes a bite out of his pop tart.

He refreshes the page. People immediately respond with “Fuck U”, “You
wouldn’t say that to my face faggot”, and “LMFAO crackers b crazy”

The Boy smiles.

15 YEARS LATER

*******************| PLAY SONG “MISFITS ANTHEM” AT THIS POINT]

*******************
INT. THE BOY’S ROOM - EARLY MORNING

The room is an elegant mess. There’s shit everywhere, but everything has
it’s place. Classic furniture; someone with old money would invest in, is used
for the bed, desk, desk chair. You can see from where most of the trash
accumulates that the occupant spends most of his time on the computer.

There is a pile of stacked and flattened gummy bear wrappers by the desk.
There’s a picture of The Boy and his father on the boy’s desk, along with a
flash drive that has “Hackz” written on it. A small vaporizer charges and
glows green on the edge. There’s a half ounce of weed in a plastic bag to the
left of the laptop on the desk.

There’s a black and white Bill Withers poster, a Gorillaz “Demon Days”
poster, and a “Black Dynamite” poster. All framed. Stacks of records are
placed on a shelf lining the wall. There are some old 70’s soul records by a
record player on the shelf. Norman Connors “You Are My Starship” is the
album on top of the others.

Little hills of dirty clothes grow up the walls from the floor. Same pile of shoes
is there. Wall with same dirty spot. The closet is filled with white shirts and
flower shorts. There’s one very old and tattered Shearling coat that hangs to
the right.

The Boy (more a man now) is sprawled out on his bed, no shirt and flower
shorts. He opens one eye as very faint, dark orange sunlight from the blinds
cut his face. He gets up.

INT. LIVING ROOM —- DAY

The Buddha statue again. There’s empty old beer and Pellegrino bottles on
the bar. The entire back of the living room wall is glass. The boy walks briskly
to the kitchen.
INT. KITCHEN - DAY

The kitchen is a slight mess. Things left out. S’mores makings left out. The
marshmallows are hard as stones. The boy goes into the cabinet and pulls
out a pop tart. He takes out a pop tart and throws it in the microwave,
wrapper still on (you’re not supposed to do that). He starts the microwave
and begins texting someone. The microwave is okay for about 5 seconds,
then blue sparks start to pop inside

He turns off the microwave, opens it, grabs the pop tart and tosses it on a
plate.

EXT. BACKYARD - EARLY MORNING

The Boy walks onto the little island in the middle of the infinity pool lining the
oceans and mountains in the background. The mountains are surrounded by
clouds. They’re literally above the clouds. It’s probably raining down there.
There’s an orchard with lemon and plums to the west of the wall outside, and
a green statue of a golfer further in. Bunnies jump on the lawn in the
background.

The boy sits under a sun umbrella, opens the pop tart and starts to eat it. He
looks off with his face flat. He gets a text message:

FAM: when u wanna paddle out? [PURPLE DEVIL FACE EMOJT]

The Boy texts back:

THE BOY: pick me up

CUT TO:
EXT. MANSION FRONT DRIVEWAY - MORNING

An old, red (a gross red. a weak red) Mazda rolls up to the front of the
mansion and sputters to a stop. FAM, steps out of the car. Daps up.

FAM: Let’s take one of yours.

THE BOY: Nah.

FAM: Really, mane? You want us to drive around in my car? I don’t think it’ll
make it, honestly. It broke down at my mom’s. Plus...it looks like my car.

THE BOY: Right. It’s inconspicuous.

FAM: My nigga, who are you hiding from? it's not stuttin’. It’s your car, why
do you even care?

”,..-why do you even care?”

THE BOY: Aight’.

INT. GARAGE - MORNING

The garage door rises to reveal Fam and The Boy’s silhouette. Five cars are in
the garage. There’s a Tesla Model S, Silver 911, some car no one’s ever seen,
a Tahoe and some car under a tarp. Looks like it could be an Aston Martin.
Fam smiles.
FAM: (pointing to the car no one’s ever seen) That one

THE BOY: No.

Silence. The boy is thinking.

THE BOY: The beamer. We didn’t even see this one. It’s in the far corner of
the garage. It’s a nice car. Older, but nice and sleek. Understated, to some.
It’s black paint is chipping in the front. Fam shakes his head.

FAM: Nah...nah.

They get in the 911.

CUT TO:

EXT. SANTA MONICA CONDOS —- DAY

The 911 pulls up to a nice condo complex. Fam honks the horn for a while.
Like a jerk.

SOMEONE FROM A WINDOW: I work nights, dickhead!

FAM: I know. Fuck me, right?

Fam honks more.

The Boy checks his twitter feed. Twitter name “You Are Unimportant -
@thegoldmolar” You can see from his feed he just trolls all the time.
Politicians, athletes, entertainers, etc. His favorite was simply re-tweeting
something someone says. When it was dumb enough to just retweet, that
was his favorite. He’d gotten a lot of followers that way. Written an article
once for a blog. Got more followers. He started posting videos of homeless
people doing stuff and fights downtown.

He was looking for something to retweet on his time-line. People say dumb
shit all the time...

someone tweeted “ROSCOE’S WETSUIT”.

...what’s that?”

The Boy drops “roscoe’s wetsuit” into Google. A Yahoo answer comes up for
it. The answer to “what is roscoe’s wetsuit?” is... “roscoe’s wetsuit”.
Hilarious.

SWANK, STEVE, MARCUS and AJ walk out of the condo. They have longboards
with them and they’re eating candy. They stop in their tracks when they see
the 911.

SWANK: (re: boards) How we supposed to get these in there?

FAM: You guys take your car.

STEVE: What about your boards? Where are they?

FAM: Can we borrow some?

They all make a face.

SWANK: We need a bigger car then. I’ma drive to your house and get the
Tahoe.

THE BOY: Come on, guys. This is taking forever.

AJ: Where we going?

FAM: Dockweiler.

MARCUS: I swam into a diaper last time.

FAM: IM GRIMEY. I ONLY SWIM IN DIRTY WATERS! YOU KNOW THIS!

SOMEONE AGAIN: Shut the fuck up!

Fam honks the horn.

SWANK: I’m drivin that Porsche the way back. I know that shit.

Swank and Steve walk toward their car parked on the street.

THE BOY: What’s “roscoe’s wetsuit” mean?

FAM: I don’t know.

They drive off.

EXT. DOCKWEILER BEACH - DAY

The guys carry the boards through the sand to ocean, making a strange
pattern behind them.

They setup camp and start changing on the beach.

MARCUS: I thought someone was bringing girls.

THE BOY: No one wants to get up this early.

MARCUS: Did you ask white girls?

THE BOY; I asked every girl.

FAM: You a lie. You didn’t ask anybody. You don’t leave the house.

STEVE: Why white girls?

MARCUS: Cause no one is getting up at 6AM to go into the freezing, dirty ass
ocean, fuck up their hair-

At that moment, they all notice a girl sitting on her board in the ocean.
Waiting for a wave she looks behind her. She is black.
MARCUS: {CONCITED} (to AJ) See? This is what I mean about Donnie Darko
happening to me.

A plane flies low overhead (Dockweiler is right next to LAX).

MARCUS: {CONCERENED} (staring at the plane) It’s gonna crush me.

SWANK: (re: girl) It’s like seeing a mermaid.

STEVE: Maybe it’s a manatee.

MARCUS: (R. Kelly-esque) I’ma flirt.

Marcus runs to the water with his board. They all follow.

EXT. OCEAN — MORNING

Marcus swims up to the girl on his board.

MARCUS: Sup.

GIRL: Hi.

MARCUS: I’m Marcus.

SASHA: Sasha.
MARCUS: It’s lookin alright today.

SASHA (Australian accent) Yeah. It’s the only reason I’m out here.

MARCUS Oh, you’re Australian. (pause ) You ever seen “Kangaroo Jack”?

SASHA (not looking at him) Yeah.

MARCUS: Classic.

SASHA: ...wha?

MARCUS: (not mean...just serious) It’s a fucking classic.

Silence. Sasha is weirded out. All the guys, except The Boy, swim up.

STEVE: (to Sasha. Out of breath) Hi. Did Marcus ruin it already?

SASHA: Yes.

Steve splashes Marcus. Swank takes a plastic bag with four blunts in it. He
takes

one out. He lights up a blunt. Talks with it hanging in his mouth.

SWANK: How long you been surfing?

SASHA: Ten years. You?

SWANK: Bouta month.

AJ: Cops don’t come out here. It’s a good place to smoke. You want some?

He passes it. She takes a hit.

SWANK: What you doin tonight?

SASHA: My friend’s birthday in Santa Monica.

MARCUS: Yo, we’re right around close. We’re having a party tonight ina
mansion. You should come. And if your friend’s a girl or a guy who has weed,
they should come too.

AJ: I’m Dj’ing. I start off with Jodeci, then the switch over to 90’s rap using
“Dream Lover” to transition, play ACTUAL ATLANTA TRAP for an hour, hour
and a half. Then Motown, soul, and house. Girls. Go. Crazy.

SASHA: What’s your DJ name?

AJ: Twercules. no “DJ”. Just Twercules. I got a Tumblr were I post my mixes.
It’s getting pretty popular. I don’t know. You sing? Model? Act?

SASHA: I’ma go in.

Sasha starts paddling and catches a wave into the beach.

AJ I shouldn’t have said “bitches”.

MARCUS: (thinks ) You didn’t

AJ thinks on this. This is probably saying more about him than he realizes.

EXT. BEACH — MORNING

Sasha carries her board onto the beach. The Boy is sitting there.

SASHA: You goin in?

THE BOY: Don’t know yet.

SASHA: Then why’d you put on your wetsuit?

-..-roscoe's wetsuit.

THE BOY: Everyone else was.

SASHA: That’s an awful reason.

She starts walking.

THE BOY: You should come to the party. It’1ll be fun. They invited you, right?
SASHA: Where is it?

THE BOY: (Putting down his number) Text me.

SASHA: I’1l remember. I’1l bring some friends.

She walks off.

LATER THAT DAY:

************************[PLAY SONG “Blow Up” AT THIS

POINT]*************************

EXT. I-10 - EVENING

The guys drive down the highway eating In-n-Out. Head nods all around.
Swank is now driving the Porsche. Crazily. Fam is with The Boy and the rest of
the guys in the other car. Marcus drops his animal style fries on the floor.

MARCUS: Fuck.

FAM: You see you fuckin up this car?

THE BOY: It’s fine.

FAM: He’s driving crazy. (iPhone goes off) And he’s textin me.

The text says: RECKLESS

FAM: (Annoyed) This nigga’s so lame.

The Boy sees a tweet of the lead singer of a boy band tweet “follow your
heart and [HEART EMOJI] all who cross your path!”. The Boy retweets it with
a [LAUGHING/CRYING EMOJI].

FAM: I gotta stop somewhere first.

CUT TO:

EXT. CLUB - NIGHT

Fam pulls outside of a club. Lots of people are trying to get in. He and The
Boy get out and walk to the bouncer, their friend CHEESE. Fam and Cheese
dap. The Boy stands on the side next to a line of people trying get in VIP.
They look at each other. He is not dressed appropriately to get in.

FAM and CHEESE do that handshake thing they do. Fam walks in.

Some guys in a black SUV rolls by and yell at the dude next to The Boy.

MAN IN CAR: Don’t let me catch you out here Jay! Don’t let me catch you!

The Boy watches this for a second. He looks down for a moment...

Someone has spray painted “roscoe’s wetsuit” on the sidewalk. He stares at

it.
MAN IN CAR: (Angry) I got yours, muthafucka!

The Boy snaps out of it. Then takes out his phone and starts recording the
fight. Fam walks out and sees the fight in action.

JAY: You scared, bitch! That’s why you scared!

MAN IN CAR: I got something for you you hoe-ass nigga!

POP. POP.

.-what's happening?

Jay is bleeding from his stomach. The Boy is seeing this through his phone. It
takes a moment for him to realize-

POP. POP. -run. Now.

Fam is already running. Everyone in the line is screaming and running. The
Boy runs.

COP: Drop your weapon!

(these are cleaner and succinct) [Link].

THE BOY Runs to the side of the building. The SUV that was firing slows
down. The driver is dead. Car horn blares as the car slows to a stop, mixing
with girls crying and “oh shit!” and “fuck”. Jay is very close to dead. The
blood on the sidewalk is almost black. A street sign (No parking between 7-
9am and 4-7pm) is reflected in the dark blood. He turns to The Boy, looks
around. He knows what’s happening. He’s leaving.

That was the end. He’1ll never read this sentence. Or any sentence. He
ended earlier. Before this sentence. As far as he knows, before any sentence.
He’s back to his/the natural state.

The Boy felt something. On the internet, you really don’t have to feel much
of anything unless you want to. It’s funny, cause this dude is dead. There
really isn’t a connection...it’s more him seeing himself for the first time since-

HIS FRIEND: Damnnnnn......! WORLDSTAR!

The Boy’s phone rings.

THE BOY: Yeah.

FAM: Get in the car.

The Boy turns and sees the car rolling up to the alley he’s hiding in. The Boy
runs up and jumps in. They speed off.

INT. CAR - NIGHT

FAM: That shit was NUTS!

STEVE: I knew something was about to happen. I knew it.

MARCUS: Donnie Darko. I’m tellin you.

The Boy is looking at the footage on his phone. He’s got a death on video.
It’s looped. Over and over. The Boy touches his shearling coat...there’s a hole
in it. Bullet hole? He puts his finger through...

…1 shouldn't be here.

He looks at Fam and Steve. They’re talking.

MARCUS: Bitches high heels

FAM: BAP! BAP! BAP! Oooow. That everywhere! They ran out nigga, lit up
they shoes, cuh. The Boy just keeps watching the video.

FAM: Yo. You got it on video?

THE BOY: Yeah.

FAM: Wow...you caught the end of his journey on video. That’s dope. We
gotta pick up Doc from the jazz club.

INT. JAZZ CLUB - NIGHT

FAM and THE BOY Stand in the back. Doc is on stage playing saxophone with
a band. He’s doing a solo.

THE BOY: Does it weird you out that you almost died today?
FAM: Not really. I’m not trippin on death.

THE BOY: I’m not trippin. I’m just sayin, if you think about it, there’s no
reason for us to be here.

FAM: Doc be hanging with the weirdest people. Look at these niggas. They all
look like James Blake. Is that who likes Jazz now?

THE BOY: I was thinking about it and I can’t offer anyone anything. Like, my
job is tweeting at people. That’s my job.

FAM: That’s not your job. You do it cause it’s funny. You’re rich. We don’t have
to do anything.

THE BOY: Yeah. Isn’t that sad?

FAM: Sad? We are making moves. What about that line me and Swank are
gonna start selling?

THE BOY: All we did was print shirts for ourselves. Who else is buying that
shit? And the whole reason we wanted to make shirts is cause Tre made
some and they were dope.

FAM: I don’t know what to tell you. We are doing dope shit! We are making
moves. We can do whatever we want-

THE BOY: But none of it matters cause we’re doing it for ourselves! We’re just
jerking off for each other. No one in the future’s gonna give a shit I made a
shirt once.
FAM: Then don’t make a shirt, my nigga.

JAMES BLAKEY LOOKING DUDE: Shhh!

The Boy fiddles with the hole in his jacket.

INT. MANSION - NIGHT

All the guys walk in with plastic bags from the grocery store. They have blue
cups, alcohol, s’more fixings, and gummy bears. “Noestalgia” by Pusha-T
plays.

CUT TO:

AJ walks into his large closet. Pulls out a bowl. There’s some prescription
bottles there too.

CUT TO:

A naked Marcus steps out the shower and goes in his closet and pulls out
some condoms.

CUT TO:

Fam is meditating in the center of his bed. He’s floating off the bed by about
4 inches.

*************************[ PLAY SONG “DIAL UP” AT THIS

POINT ]***********************
The Boy lies, arms to his side, on his bed, looking at the ceiling. Spiders
slowly drop from single strands of web from all the posts on the bed. It looks
pretty. All of them dropping simultaneously swaying together. They whisper:

where are you? who is this?

…don't slide.

It’s almost a song.

*******************|PLAY SONG “THE WORST GUYS” AT THIS

POINT]*******************

INT. MANSION - NIGHT

More people are at the house. People drinking and smoking. Shoes off. It’s a
Temple. Respect it.

The back wall of the living room has been pushed into the wall, so there’s a
seamless transiting from living room to backyard patio.

People sit on the swings underneath space heaters.

EMILY is in the middle of the pool table. Swank plays pool around her. RUBEN
is filming Marcus and Steve throwing things in the fire pit.

AJ is djing in the middle of the living room.

Some guy is running through the living room in just a towel. He is dripping
water. He almost slips.

The projector room (theatre) is playing Fight/Vine compilations. Two dudes

are in there not watching. Just smoking.

The Boy walks through the backyard. There’s a dude and a girl making out
on the bar outside. They’re sitting on the bar.

THE BOY: Don’t sit on that.

They look at him. He stares back. They get down. He walks away. They stare
as he leaves. The Boy walks to the edge of the pool and looks at the ocean
go into the sky.

THIS KID IN A HAT: (laughing/whisper) Hurry!

This kid in a hat and his friend are running out the front door with an iPad
and a midi controller. The Boy walks inside. Marcus stops him. He’s out of
breath and looks wet.

THE BOY: Some guys just stole some stuff.

MARCUS: Please tell me you saw that Argentinean...Argentinian? Argentina

girl. I can’t say-

THE BOY: Stop inviting random niggas in here. If you don’t know their names
they can’t come.
MARCUS: I don’t hear you right now. I just fucked in a steam shower and I
feel CRAZY. It’s like I came in a Prince video. I like, blacked out. Couldn’t
breathe in there, mane. I-

(wait)

Fuck! Is she still in there? You think she’s okay?

He thinks.

THE BOY: You're the Florida of my friends.

The Boy walks away.

INT. FATHER’S ROOM - NIGHT The Boy walks up to the door. Before he can
open it, Sasha opens it from the inside. She’s with another girl. It feels like
they just did a drug or were stealing something themselves.

Sasha sees The Boy. Startled. Then she smirks.

SASHA: Come in! Quick!

She pulls him in. The other girl flops on the bed.

OTHER GIRL: UUUUUGGGGHHHHHHH. SOOOOO SOOOOOFFFFTTT.

SASHA: Hurry, hurry, hurry. Scoot, scoot. The Boy lays against the wall. Sasha
sits on the bed. Silence. Then:

SASHA: (EXCITED) Show us your dick.

THE BOY: Wha?

SASHA: Do it. Show it.

OTHER GIRL: Ew.

Silence.

THE BOY: Ha.

Silence.

THE BOY: Why?

SASHA: Cause it’s probably gross and I wanna laugh at it.

OTHER GIRL: I’ve never seen a black dick. Is it purple?

SASHA: Grape dick.

OTHER GIRL: (agreeing) Grape dick.

Sasha gets up and starts to punch The Boy playfully. The other girl is
laughing crazy.

SASHA: Do it. Don’t be weird!

OTHER GIRL: Let’s be weird a little!

The punches slowly stop. Then Sasha starts kissing The Boy. You can’t see
below their waist, but stuff is going on. Then stuff stops.

SASHA: What’s wrong? This is weird?

THE BOY: No.

SASHA: You don’t want to? This is weird?

THE BOY: No. I want to.

SASHA: Then...what’s going on, chum?

THE BOY: Hold on.

The Boy plays with his dick. Nothing. It’s like gum.

Silence. Fidgeting. Sasha’s got a [ASHAMED EMOJI] look on her face.

THE BOY: (ASHAMED) Hold on.

He walks into the bathroom and closes the door. Locked. Silence. Sasha sits
on the floor.
OTHER GIRL: What’s up?

**********************[PLAY “Love me Better” AT THIS

POINT]**************************

INT. BATHROOM —- NIGHT

The Boy sits on the floor. Head in hands.

The Boy’s ex-girlfriend VANESSA steps out of the linen closet.

VANESSA: What are you doing?

THE BOY: (head in hands) Chilling

VANESSA: In the Bathroom?

THE BOY: Mmm-—hmm. (Yes)

VANESSA: Well, I want to go out.

THE BOY: Mmm-mmm. (no)

Vanessa playfully throws things from the counter at him (toothbrush, cup,
floss, soap). He throws some of it back. She starts laughing. He pulls her to
the ground with him.

VANESSA: Why are you so moody?

THE BOY: I’m not. Let me enjoy this for a second.

VANESSA: We can do this outside-

THE BOY: We could live the rest of our lives here. There’s a TV in the mirror.
There’s fresh water every time we flush. I heard they’re building a sandwich
place in the shower.

Vanessa shakes her head and smiles.

VANESSA: Get up. We’re going.

THE BOY: Come ‘on-

VANESSA: I mean it!

She pulls him up. She opens up the linen closet and pulls The Boy in.

Coachella is inside the closet.

There are people saying things, giving opinions, feeling interesting. Everyone
has a purpose today. It’s a great time.

The Boy chases after Vanessa and catches her. He carries her for like three
steps, then they walk together, holding hands.

VANESSA: (Amazed) We have to see everything together. I don’t wanna split

up this time. We each get to choose one band the other one can’t make you
see (Concerned) What’s wrong?
THE BOY ….

VANESSA: (disappointed) Really? You’re really doing this to me? Right now?

THE BOY: You don’t think this is a waste of our time?

VANESSA No, I don’t think me and you together is a waste of time. That’s
what you think. And I’m tired of trying to convince you otherwise. At least be
a man and break up with me instead of telling me I don’t like you.

THE BOY: But you don’t! You don’t really like me. I just look good when you
scroll past me with the rest of your “I’m almost Vashtie” bullshit.

VANESSA: (teary whisper) You’re so mean.

THE BOY: I’m trying to be honest.

VANESSA: Mean doesn’t mean honest! Honest can mean mean. But only if
you mean

THE BOY: (to himself) so many ‘means’… (to VANESSA) Wait Vanessa-

VANESSA: I’m trying so hard with you. But I’m not gonna carry us. I won’t
waste your time anymore.

She starts walking away. Then she looks to the sky and shoots up like a
rocket. She looks like a shooting star in the sky.

Not a sound is heard while this happens. They never see each other again.
Then the coyotes come out.

They’re glowing blue. They’re circling and they’re talking about music.

WOLF 1: What’d you think of 2 Chainz’ set?

WOLF 2: It was really fun. His live shows have gotten way better. I saw him
last spring in Chicago.

WOLF WITH GLASSES: Have you heard that Roc Marciano album on vinyl? It’s
so good, man.

MESSY, BUT COOL WOLF: You guys, this is my fiancé, another wolf. He or she
works in a small music or graphic design for niche clothing or this app I’m
building.

They rip The Boy to shreds while they talk. Blood everywhere. The Boy
doesn’t make a sound. Let’s it happen.

INT. BATHROOM - NIGHT

The Boy realizes he is pacing in the shower. He’s been in there for a minute,
cause the water is cold.

He opens the door. The girls are gone. The small clock on the desk says
“5:23 AM”. There’s also a note written in lipstick on the mirror that says
“YOUR FUCKED”. Probably Sasha. She’s probably right.
CUT TO:

INT. LIVING ROOM - NIGHT

The house isn’t totaled, just dirty. Empty cups, bottles, Cigarette butts, etc.
The Boy sees Steve and Swank passed out on the couch.

THE BOY: Let’s go guys

STEVE: (waking up) Where we going?

THE BOY: Oakland.

SWANK: When’s the flight leave?

THE BOY: We're driving.

SWANK Wha? (then) How’d we get poor?

INT. FAM’S ROOM —- NIGHT

Fam’s sleeping. There’s a naked girl sleeping with him. The Boy comes in.

THE BOY: We're going.

The Boy leaves. Fam opens his eyes. CUT? TOs

******************[T PLAY SONG “OAKLAND” AT THIS
POINT]**************************

EXT. MANSION – NIGHT

SWANK, STEVE, and FAM are asleep in the car. THE BOY sits down in the
drivers seat. He pulls out his phone and text someone named NYALA:

I’m driving up now

(that moment you know exactly what they're typing and how they look doing
it)

She writes back: DONT

The Boy looks at this. Then starts up the car and turns on the radio and
speeds out of the driveway.

A moment passes...

Then we see the girl that was in bed with Fam walk out in the Mansion
doorway.

THAT GIRL FAM KNOWS FROM THAT ONE PLACE

EXT. I-5 - NIGHT/EARLY MORNING

Everyone’s asleep in the car except The Boy who’s driving (AJ is there too.
They picked him up.). Lloyd’s “Tru” is playing on the radio. The Boy turns it
up so he feels like he’s in a video. He pushes his seat back so he can lean.
SWANK: Ow, ow!

He slammed Swanks knees.

The Boy speeds through the empty highway. It’s really pretty. I’m not sure
what those factories are in the middle of nowhere with all the lights on them.
They’re probably horrible for the earth, but they look really magical at night.
He passes one of those factories.

There’s a lot of rolling hills. Lotta farms. There’s a slaughterhouse. Smells

and looks grey and awful. All the cows look really sad. Maybe I’m just making
them sad. Maybe they’re fine.

Looking at the rows of crops crisscross on farms as they pass.

There’s a billboard. It says: ROSCOE’S WETSUIT

The Boy stares at it. Just a white billboard with “roscoe’s wetsuit” on it.

EXT. MIDDLE OF NOWHERE IN-N-OUT - DAY

The guys are sitting on their car, eating burgers at the far end of the parking
lot.

As The Boy bites into his double-double he thinks about the slaughterhouse.
Then he looks at his burger. He laughs.

Two women walk out. They look like they’re in their late 30s. SWANK spots
em. One of the women is wearing a Northwestern hoodie.
SWANK: (re: hoodie) Long way from Chicago.

WOMAN: 1 Alumni.

SWANK: There’s no way. You can’t be over twenty-three.

The women just smirk and close their doors. They drive off.

SWANK: See that? Johnny Appleseed of confidence, man. Just leaving little
seeds with everyone.

A car crazily pulls up next to the in-n-out. Two dudes jump out with masks
and guns.

FAM: Damnn.

They run inside. We see people running in their cars, and driving off. All of
our guys stay seated on their car. Just eating.

A minute goes by. No gun shots. Just yelling.

The two dudes run out. Just as they do, you can hear the police coming.

ROBBERY DUDE 1: MOVE, RYAN!

AJ: This nigga’s using his real name. Treated.

STEVE: Could be a code name.

AJ: That’s definitely his real name. No one’s robbery name is “Ryan”. It’s
something like ”Snake-Man”.

They all make a face.

AJ: (Annoyed) Fuck y’all. I wouldn’t rob a place with y’all pussy ass anyway.

The Police roll up. Ryan tries to get away, but they pin him. The other dude
shoots at the cop.

FAM: We should leave. They’re shooting at the cops. Which means the other
cops coming give a fuck ‘bout bystanders now.

MARCUS: (in anchorman voice) Two men were arrested in an attempted

robbery at an in-n-out burger today. (mumbling) Also some niggers ended up
dead, we don’t know. This is news, people!

STEVE: After being frisked, the dead suspects somehow got guns and shot
themselves in the head even though they were handcuffed and in the back
of a tiny-ass squad car.

THE BOY: The Police chief usually states: “no investigation needed”.

STEVE: “White people still safe!”

They laugh. As they start to drive off. Suddenly two cop cars screech in front
of them.
COP 1: HANDS IN THE AIR!

STEVE: Fuck.

All of the guys put their hands up.

CUT TO:

EXT. OAKLAND STREET - DAY Everyone looks a little bummed. Silence. More
silence.

THE BOY: We’re here.

They pull over to a row of brownstones.

MARCUS: Great. Why are we where is this?

The Boy gets out of the car and walks up to the door. As he’s about to knock,
the door opens. Nyla is standing there. Her face is a mix of anger and
strange sympathy. Like she refused to cry like...an hour ago?

THE BOY: Hey-

NYLA: There’s a point you reach when you’re no longer able to feel like you
did. Not about a person, not with a certain place, you just can’t feel like you
did because that muscle or whatever is just...dead. Or gone.
THE BOY: Hi, Nyla.

NYLA: When you’re alone, you might be able to remember it. You might even
hear a song that makes you question it. But you don’t have it. It doesn’t exist
anymore. It’s dead. Do you understand?

THE BOY: Yes. Absolutely. But Nyla-

NYLA: I AM AT THAT POINT.

Tears. She’s not crying. She’s just that mad.

A dude pokes his head out from the hallway in the brownstone. The Boy and
him make eye contact.

THE BOY: This isn’t what you think it is. I didn’t come here to...look, I saw this
dude die and-

NYLA: And you’re scared. So you came here.

THE BOY: I’m not scared. I just wanna be with someone who knows me for a
little.

NYLA; I don’t know you. We’re not together. I have company. Go home.

THE BOY: Okay, you’re being mean now.

NYLA: “Mean?” Who cares? You’re an adult. Also, you embarrassed me.
THE BOY: (to the dude in the hallway) We were planning on having a kid
together. She offered and we had a whole plan. Like adults or something.
Then I backed out. SO... You’re second at best is what I’m saying. The guy
goes [SIDE EYE EMOJI].

NYLA: What is wrong with you?

THE BOY: I don’t know.

NYLA: Me neither.

This is really sad for both of em. Nyla closes the door.

NYLA:(through the door) Please grow up.

They really wanna know.

The Boy stands there...then Swank walks up to him on the stoop of the
brownstone.

SWANK: Can I use her bathroom?

That double-double’s making moves.

The Boy walks away and gets in the car. Swank stands there for a moment.
Then tries to cut off a fart with his hand as he walks to the car.

**********************[PLAY SONG “Counterfeit” AT THIS POINT]

**********************
INT. OAKLAND CLUB - NIGHT

The guys sit at a table in the corner. The Boy is sitting in the corner. Fam is
texting. Swank and Steve are talking to two girls. A promoter walks over.

PROMOTER Ey. You gonna just sit here. THE BOY Yeah. PROMOTER Well, you
gotta order something. THE BOY A bottle? PROMOTER

Yeah. A bottle. They stare.

THE BOY I'll take 12 bottles.

Promoter gives him a [NO MOUTH EMOJI]. The Boy just stares at him...he’s
serious. The promoter walks off.

CUT TO:

Twelve girls with bottles and sparklers emerge around the club from the
back. It’s a parade. They curve around the club making a big to do. People
are staring, like “is Diddy here? OMG Diddy’s here!”.

The parade gets to the top of the stairs where the booth is. But when they
turn the corner, the guys are gone already. There’s a stack of cash sitting in
the middle the table.

The promoter stands there.

INT. DINER - LATE NIGHT

The guys are eating. The Boy is not.

SWANK: But animals eat animals, man. Animals!

STEVE: The argument is that we’ve been given the freewill and
understanding of life. So we shouldn’t because the option is there for us.

SWANK: Man, in Nigeria they made me AND my little brother slaughter a

goat. We raised that goat, man. I loved that fucking goat. And one day we
came home from school and they just handed us the knife. I’ve seen the
blood man. I’ve heard the screams. I still ate the shit though.

…I was here before.

THE BOY: We were here before.

FAM What?

THE BOY: We’ve done this before.

FAM: Nah man. This is our first time together in Oakland.

THE BOY: This is every night. This is all the nights, man.

FAM: (weirded out) Nahhhh. We switch it up, man.

The Boy’s stops listening. Across the way there’s a group of kids eating in a
booth. They’re laughing and talking behind the back of a friend they don’t
seem to like very much. One of the girls is going in. But behind her, there’s a
guy in a colorful faux 90’s hat. He’s writing something on the wall in sharpie.

He’s writing “roscoe’s wetsuit”.

The Boy gets up and walks over.

THE BOY: Excuse me. What does that mean?

HAT KID: What?

THE BOY: Roscoe’s wetsuit.

HAT KID: Oh. I don’t know.

THE BOY: Yes you do.

HAT KID: Wha?

THE BOY: You know what it means. Tell me.

HAT KID: I don’t know. I saw it online.

THE BOY: So you just write shit you see?

HAT KID: Fuck’s your problem?

Fam walks up. Grabs The Boy.

FAM: Ey. Lets just eat.

The Boy and Fam sit.

HAT KID: It means I sat on your mom’s face.

The Boy SLAMS his fist on the table. It’s loud. Everyone in the diner looks at
him. The Boy doesn’t look up.

THE BOY: (quiet) Tell me what it is or I’1l cut you open and take the answer.

Silence.

CUT TO:

EXT. HOTEL - NIGHT The guys roll up to the front of the hotel.

SWANK: That kid was scared as fuck! He was like [OPEN MOUTH EMOJT].

FAM: (to The Boy) You good?

Boy doesn’t say anything.

INT. HOTEL LOBBY -— NIGHT

The guys walk in the lobby. There’s an Indian wedding happening. They’re
probably not called Indian weddings.

It’s probably just a wedding, but all the people participating happen to be
Indian. There’s a bunch of guys talking and quietly laughing in the hall. The
door to the banquet room is open as they pass. The Boy stops. The bride and
groom are slow dancing. The bride is quite pretty. Green eyes and dark skin.
She’s got the aura of a business woman. Probably met him at Stanford and
was like “this is reliable”. The groom looks like a caricature of a good ol’
fashion white dude.

STEVE: Good for him.

SWANK: Nah. He don’t get any interracial points. He’s just doing what white
guys been doing since forever.

Exactly what he wants.

AJ: Really? Like that?

SWANK: Man, I used to get so pissed when girls would watch Boy Meets
World and be like “Ryder Strong’s so dope for having a black girlfriend”. Man,
fuck that nigga.

AJ: Come on, man. My dad’s white and his parents didn’t like my mom. They
just started talking again.

SWANK: (over the top) Oh you’re poor white dad! Nigga, shut up. Take that
team light skin shit outside.

THE BOY: I've never seen one of these.

FAM: A first dance?

THE BOY: A wedding.

FAM: Yeah. Marriage is so wack. I mean, I get it. But come on, yo. Forever?
"Ms. Jackson” Forever, ever? Forever, ever?

THE BOY: You think either of them don’t wanna do it?

FAM: Mane, I bet both of em are like that.

THE BOY: They look happy as fuck though.

FAM: Cause they reached their goal. In a year they’1ll be like “oh fuck...goals
are dumb.”

MARCUS: Goals are dumb?

FAM: Making your life a goal is dumb. I think. This shit is supposed to be just
fun… I took an edible at the diner. It’s kickin in. Hard. I’ma go upstairs.

THE BOY: Okay.

They both stand there for a moment.

FAM: I’m gonna need some help.

AJ takes Fam by the arm.

FAM: (Relieved) There we go.

They head to the elevators.

MARCUS: I’ma look for some bridesmaids.

He walks off.

STEVE: (yelling to Marcus) Gee-van-chi!

MARCUS” (calling back) Nigga, god bless you.

STEVE: (to The Boy) What you doin?

The Boy stares at the couple.

THE BOY: I’ma stay down here.

SWANK: You good?

THE BOY: I’m great.

They Kanye shrug, then walk off to the bar. The Boy walks into the banquet

INT. BANQUET HALL - NIGHT

The lights are low. Most of the people have gotten up to pee or something.
The Boy just stares at the couple. Then he decides to start recording. A man
comes up to him.

OLDER INDIAN DUDE: Who are you here with?

THE BOY: (not looking up from his phone) The groom. We went to college
together.

OLDER INDIAN DUDE: Oh. Uhm Nice isn’t it?

THE BOY: (sincere) Beautiful.

OLDER INDIAN DUDE: When the buddies start getting Married, that means
you’re next.

THE BOY: I don’t think so.

OLDER INDIAN DUDE: That’s what everyone says. That’s what I said thirty
years ago.

THE BOY: I don’t believe in marriage. (then) Maybe that’s not true. But I am
against it.

OLDER INDIAN DUDE: What do you believe in?

THE BOY: Cool baby mamas.

OLDER INDIAN DUDE: Ahhhh. But how many women you know are interested
in your concept?
THE BOY: More than you’d think. I find if you have a job and are actually
interested in raising a child, women, who are a little older, tend to be
responsive. I just don’t think they like being labeled that.

An awkward silence looms over.

THE BOY: Do you get tired of it?

OLDER INDIAN DUDE Of marriage?

THE BOY Of marriage. Of her. Of yourself.

They both sit in silence and think.

OLDER INDIAN DUDE: Yes. Sometimes.

THE BOY: Then why?

OLDER INDIAN DUDE: I had to man-up. It was time. I don’t regret it.

THE BOY: Well, I don’t have to man-up. I did what I’m supposed to do. I found
the things I’m good at. I didn’t get anyone pregnant on the way there. And
I’ve had mature relationships that prepared me for what marriage is.

OLDER INDIAN DUDE: Mature relationships?

THE BOY: Yeah. I keep in touch with all my exes. We’re all friends.
OLDER INDIAN DUDE: You still call them.

THE BOY: I send em a happy birthday text or DM ‘em.

OLDER INDIAN DUDE: That’s not a friend. I do that with my boss. And I hate
my boss.

Silence.

OLDER INDIAN DUDE: What do you do?

THE BOY: I troll celebrities, politicians, or anyone with large enough online
cache until I get a response. I post those responses and/or convos on my
blog. And I charge gossip blogs and advertisers to advertise on my site and
sometimes me and my friend put out novelty books of fucked up things we
find online while digging up dirt on said celebrities and/ or politicians and sell
it to niche book stores or larger stores that fit our aesthetic.

The man just stares, not understanding.

THE BOY: How old are you?

OLDER INDIAN DUDE: Fifty-three.

THE BOY: I’m like Bill O'Reilly.

OLDER INDIAN DUDE Oh.

The older man leaves.

OLDER INDIAN DUDE: (To himself) Fucking Americans thinks they know
everything.

A clubby man in a suit comes to the podium in front. People clap for the end
of the dance.

MAN IN SUIT: I’ve known Safia and Greg since college and I honestly knew
this day would happen since we were getting high in my dorm room junior
year at GW.

MAN IN SUIT: (To mom) Sorry Mrs. Healey, Greg smokes weed. You gotta
deal!

Everyone laughs.

MAN IN SUIT: But honestly, may you two spend the rest of your lives healthy
and happy.

CROWD: “Awwww"

MAN IN SUIT: And now, the traditional “march to forever” to bless the bride
and groom with happiness for all their days to come.

Everyone claps.

CUT TO:

INT. MANSION - NIGHT

The Boy sits at his piano; playing randomly, trying to make sense of
everything/anything. Steve and Swank talk to Emily and MISLA in the
kitchen. They’re arguing about driving, or cooking with coconut oil instead of
olive oil, or something else they themselves will not care about or remember
in a month, year, ten years, 100 years, the age of the universe.

The house is starting to look pretty bad. The cleaners that used to come stop
receiving their payment and stopped coming. Plastic cups are starting to
spread like a blue rash across the living room and coffee tables. Every
surface has a sticky spot. You used to be able to slide into the kitchen from
the living room with a two second run and quick stop. Now, dried alcohol
stops you before you even get to the kitchen door. The Boy really loved
sliding into the kitchen when he was a kid. It was the closest you could get to
having powers.

**********************[PLAY SONG “WEIRD ASS” AT THIS POINT]

***********************

Minutes go by. People start to crowd around The Boy as he continues on

piano. So many people he can’t think.

Fam daps up a kid as he walks in. They then walk over to a closet where Fam
opens up a pantry of weed. It’s not nostalgic rap video stocked with weed,
but there’s a lot of weed in there. Fam tosses an ounce of weed at the kid.
The kid and his friend smell it and nod. They look to Fam to share a smile of
like “good shit, right?”, but Fam isn’t there for em. Fam gives em the
“where’s my money you privileged ass-hole” look. They pull out some
hundreds.

Misla is sitting knees to chest with a french dude in the center of the pool
table. They’re eating s’mores.
Emily and Steve and jumping over the fire pit like idiots. There are people
saying things, giving opinions, feeling interesting. Everyone has a purpose
tonight. It’s a great time.

But then:

..-this is a waste.

THE BOY: Get.

..-of time.

THE BOY: Out. Everyone.

No one can hear him. It’s a party.

THE BOY:(Furious) Everyone needs to get out. NOW!

People start to notice. The Boy gets up from the piano and grabs a pool stick.
He quickly walks over to the iPod dock playing music and winds up like it’s a
bat.

SMASH.

Everyone stares.

FUCKBOY: 2 That’s my phone, nigga!

The Boy looks up. There’s a deep inhale, then he starts smashing everything.
Glass sprays everywhere, alcohol splashes, people start running out.

SOME DUDE 2: WorldStar!

The Boy continues hitting things. He’s about to come down on someone’s
phone that’s lying on the coffee table. He holds the pool cue above his head
and lets it down fast.

But right before, someone grabs the cell phone, laying their hand on top of it,
daring The Boy to hit the hand. The Boy barely stops in time.

The hand has a cast on it. The Boy looks up to see a girl (NAOMI) staring at
him. She looks mad. The Boy is mad. But not at her. He’s trying to look mad
at her, but he really looks like “sorry”.

Eyes locked.

She slowly takes her phone, making complete eye contact the entire time,
then walks out. Everyone stares at this strange interaction.

As soon as she leaves, The Boy goes back to smashing things.

THE BOY: Get out! Get away!

Some people start running out trying not to get hit. Other people just laugh
cause they’re high or because they think it’s pathetic. They all leave
eventually.
The Boy stands there for a moment. He turns to the bar next to the pool
table. There’s half a blunt and a bottle of Sriracha sitting there. The Boy
takes the bottle and starts squirting it on the pool table.

When he’s done, he’s written: “ROSCOE’S WETSUIT”.

FAM: Nice.

The Boy turns. Fam’s just sitting there. No one even noticed him. Fam gives
him a SMH. The Boy leaves.

CUT TO:

*********************[PLAY SONG “CAN’T SLEEP” AT THIS POINT]

**********************

INT. THE BOY’S ROOM - LATER NIGHT

The Boy lays in his bed. Blue and black stripes from the shades fold over his
face. He can hear raccoons scurrying outside.

He sees a spider in the corner of the room. Just sitting in its web.

The Boy doesn’t particularly like or dislike spiders. They’re everywhere in the
house. It’s a big house and it’s right next to a reserve. But something about
this spider sitting there...it really bothers him. It makes him mad. He can
hear the spider. Just sitting there. Getting louder.
I’m going to describe it as emotional tinnitus: when everything is silent and
quiet, you can see the empty web you're in. It is annoying. Which is the
slowest form of torture.

…The Boy gets up.

CUT TO:

INT. CAR - NIGHT

The Boy drives. I’m not sure where he’s driving. He’s not sure where he’s
driving.

He drives about an hour out into some industrial wasteland looking nook of
Los Angeles.

He parks his car.

Then, barefoot, he sits on the roof of his car and watches the cars pass.
Bright lights grow to an explosion then fade out as they pass. He goes into
his pocket and holds the “hackz” flash drive that we saw on his desk at the
beginning.

Someone’s spray painted “ROSCOE’S WETSUIT” on the side of the bridge.

The Boy is not surprised. It’s not making more sense, but it’s becoming more
dependable, which is always nice.

The Boy realizes he hasn’t eaten all day. Maybe that’s what’s wrong.

CUT TO:
EXT. FATBURGER - NIGHT The Boy orders a burger in the drive thru. A skinny
Latino kid with a Bluetooth hands him the bag. The Boy pulls over to the side
and opens the bag. He looks at the burger for a moment.

The Boy throws the burger out.

CUT TO:

INT. MANSION - NIGHT

The Boy walks through the house; locking all the doors and turning off all the
lights. It’s always a weird feeling to walk around the house at night because
most of the walls are glass, so people can see right inside, especially when
it’s dark. It’s pretty hard to even get to the house, it’s the highest home on
the hill and there’s a long winding road before. But at the same time, if
someone got up there, it’d be easy to figure out how to get in.

All the lights are off now.

The Boy walks over to The Buddha in the middle of the foyer. He sits on the
floor next to him with his knees to his chest. Looking out the front door into
half the darkness and half his reflection. He used to be terrified of this
Buddha.

When he was little, he’d run behind the statue like it would jump on him as
soon as he past. But He slowly became something like a best friend.
Something like that.

INT. THE BOY’S ROOM - NIGHT

The Boy pours Pelligrino into a wine glass. Then he continues to twist his
metal weed grinder in his hand. He takes the top off the grinder and pours
the white powder inside the glass. He drinks it, then sits on the foot of the
bed and takes off his white T-shirt.

Pulling the covers over his body, he looks at the spider in the corner...only it
was gone.

Where’d it go? Why would it leave? What about it’s parents? Won’t
they be sad? What about his friends? What about all his stuff how
wash supposed to keep all hiss ...

The boy is passed out.

CUT TO:

INT. HOSPITAL - DAY

The Boy wakes up. He’s in a gown. His eyes feel heavy. The TV is on in his
room. “Golden Girls” to be specific. One of the ladies just said funny cause
there’s a lot of laughter.

Sitcom laughs always freaked him out. Because most of those people are
dead. Those are ghost laughs. Laughs that are supposed to be gone forever
linger on earth after every mid 90s joke about teenage sex or someone
saying “don’t go there”. Looking for their mouths, never finding them
because they’re gone. The laughs don’t feel good because they’re dead
laughs. Those laughs aren’t what they stood for anymore. They’ve been
reappropriated. Now they’re just sounds monkey descendants make when
amused to cue other monkey descendants when to make the sounds at
home.
…my eyes feel heavy.

A nurse comes in.

WHITE GUY NURSE: Hello Mr. Ross. How are you feeling?

THE BOY: Like I’m about to get talked to by someone about (gestures) ALL
this.

Nurse gives a “yep” look.

WHITE GUY NURSE: You're friends brought you in-

THE BOY: They’re not my friends.

WHITE GUY NURSE: I don’t think they’d like you Saying that.

THE BOY: Doesn’t matter. It’s the truth. But also, they know. We’re not
friends. There’s a mutual benefit to our relationship, but I can’t trust them for
shit.

WHITE GUY NURSE: Then why save you?

THE BOY: Cause their lives are far easier with me around. It’s survival.

WHITE GUY NURSE: I think you should talk to someone.

THE BOY We're talking.

WHITE GUY NURSE A professional.

THE BOY Why? You don’t care. You’re not gonna make sure I do. (then) Our
lives aren’t precious, man.

Silence. The Nurse begins to clean up.

WHITE GUY NURSE: You done?

THE BOY: I was trying to be.

WHITE GUY NURSE: No, you weren’t. Cause, guess what? It’s not hard to do.

Nurse leaves.

INT. WAITING ROOM - LATER THAT DAY

The Boy walks out of the double doors. Steve, Swank, and Fam are sitting
there. They look up wearily.

THE BOY I don’t wanna talk. Let’s just go be awkward and quiet together at
Chipotle. Alright?

They all just stare. Swank gets up slowly and walks over

SWANK: Man... we didn’t know if we should wait or tell you later, man.

The Boy makes a ["WHAT?” EMOJI] face.

SWANK: Man... Your pops died, man. Got the call.

Silence.

THE BOY: Okay.

CUT TO:

INT. JET PLANE - EVENING

The Boy lies his head against the plane window, the oil from his hair leaving
grease smudges all over the window.

His father died in Stockholm. A family member was needed. Didn’t realize
that they were each other’s only family till this very moment. When you lose
that, you basically lose most of your memories, at least the accuracy of your
own memories.

He wanted to be cremated.

The Boy didn’t really know anyone in Stockholm, but he also didn’t want to
be in his hotel room with his father for a day. Even if he was just ashes. So he
decided to search through his followers for someone from Sweden.

Some girl named “@Hello Pity_” Dm’d him back and they were supposed to
meet up after all the whatever he had to do. She looked pretty in her avi: an
inverted Hello Kitty. But that really doesn’t mean anything at all, especially
since her Instagram was blocked, which is something he’s learned not to
trust at all.
So he looked through her tweets, figured out a night she went to a club, used
one of his dummy profiles and pretended that they’d met at the club that
night. She had trouble remembering because, according to her feed, she was
“fuckin turnt, [CRAZY TONGUE OUT EMOJI] lol”. She added this made-up
dude as a friend on Facebook. Now The Boy could see her pictures.

The rest of her pictures confirmed she was indeed pretty. This girl loves Justin
Bieber though. New Justin Bieber. The “fuck you” Bieber. She loves Justin
Bieber in the way you love that girl on Maury who’s like “my favorite flavor
popsicle is DICK!”, which is close to sincere love, but nowhere near it at the
same time.

INT. STRANGE OFFICE - NIGHT

The Boy is sitting across at a desk, across from a solemn man. An urn sits on
the left side of the desk.

The man slides it over to The Boy.

SOLEMN MAN: I’m sorry for your loss.

Silence. Don’t you have to ask someone before you cremate their father? I
don’t know how these things work.

SOLEMN MAN: These were found with him.

He gives The Boy a large brown paper bag.

INT. HOTEL ROOM —- NIGHT

The Boy vapes on the foot of his bed. He’s DMing back and forth with
“@Hello_Pity” whose real name is Alyssa.

@thegoldmolar: where u at

@Hello_Pity: bar called box. meet u here?

@thegoldmolar: yeah.

@Hello_Pity: u should meet my boyfriend. he loves you.

Weird.

@thegoldmolar: sure.

@Hello_Pity: [CRYING LAUGH EMOJI] LOL. Don’t worry. It’s not like that.

@thegoldmolar: wdym

@Hello_Pity: [CRAZY TONGUE OUT EMOJI] see u soon

He puts his phone down.

EXT. STOCKHOLM STREETS - NIGHT

There’s a buzz going on. Very pretty people walk hand in hand on the street.
There are people saying things, giving opinions, feeling interesting. Everyone
has a purpose tonight. It’s a great time.
The Boy walks up to a pink, glowing, but very discreet sign that says “box”.
There’s a big bald guy standing outside with no hat. There’s steam coming
off his head.

A girl is standing outside smoking, at least trying to. She can’t seem to get
the cigarette lit. It’s Alyssa.

THE BOY: Hey.

ALYSSA: Ah! It’s you.

She gives him a kiss on both cheeks.

ALYSSA: Fancy meeting you like this, huh?

THE BOY: I don’t know what you mean.

She puts out her cigarette. After two big puffs.

ALYSSA: Let’s go.

THE BOY: Didn’t you want me to meet your boyfriend?

ALYSSA: Who? That guy?

She points to a corner of the building, a few steps from the front. A guy with
long blonde hair (her boyfriend?)is making out with a girl in the cold.
THE BOY: What am I getting into?

ALYSSA: Nothing. You’re getting into nothing.

CUT TO:

EXT. STOCKHOLM STREETS - CONTINUOUS

The Boy and Alyssa walk slowly through the streets. It’s very cold, so they’re
the only ones doing that.

ALYSSA: What made you DM me?

THE BOY: I don’t know anyone here.

ALYSSA: Then why are you here?

THE BOY: My dad died. I have to pick him up.

ALYSSA: ROUGH. How?

THE BOY: Doesn’t matter at this point.

ALYSSA: I know right? It’s always “how’d he die?” Like if you know all the
ways, you’[Link] it. Silly.
She shivers.

ALYSSA: I don’t believe in small talk. What’s the longest relationship you've
been in?

THE BOY: Five years.

ALYSSA: Wow. What happened?

THE BOY: Still together.

ALYSSA: Oh?

THE BOY: She does private web shows. We’re not together. But it’s a
relationship, for sure.

ALYSSA: I don’t get it.

THE BOY: I used to watch her online a whiles back. Then she quit and started
doing private shows. Then it just started turning into talking. Mostly.

ALYSSA Wooooaah.

THE BOY Wha?

ALYSSA: You’re paying her to be your girlfriend or friend or whatever.

THE BOY: Yes. But most people are paying for friends one way or another.
ALYSSA: No.

THE BOY: Your boyfriend is making out with another girl right now. You don’t
really have room to judge.

ALYSSA: I trust that I can never trust him. We’re clear on that.

THE BOY: Then why have him at all?

ALYSSA: Because he’s honest. And I like that. He doesn’t lie to either of us.
That’s special to me.

INT. HOTEL ROOM —- NIGHT

The two are sitting on the bed staring at the urn on the table.

ALYSSA: So that’s your dad.

THE BOY: That’s my dad. That’s what’s left of him.

ALYSSA: You guys close?

THE BOY: No.

ALYSSA: You wanna talk about it.

THE BOY: No.

Silence.

THE BOY: I’m going to make a drink.

ALYSSA: Alright.

The Boy gets up and goes into the living room. While he’s in there, Alyssa
gets up, takes the urn, and walks out of the room. The Boy hears the door
slam.

THE BOY: Alyssa?

CUT TO:

EXT. HOTEL - NIGHT

The Boy runs out of the front doors. His breath, clouding in the night. He
looks both ways and catches Alyssa turning a corner. He runs to the corner
and meets her on the other side.

THE BOY: What’s going on.

ALYSSA: Lets get rid of it. It’s just bad for you.

THE BOY: You have a TON of nerve judging me and my father’s relationship,
so much so, you just walk out with his ashes? I feel like what you’re doing is
against the law, but much like the fact he was cremated before I arrived, I
don’t know if it’s illegal. I’m still pissed though.
ALYSSA: We’re gonna do this together.

The Boy is pissed. He’s trying not to blow up.

ALYSSA: I had a sister. I did this when she died.

THE BOY: Yes. That gives you the right.

Alyssa digs in her pocket and pulls out her phone. She turns it on and the
background is Alyssa and a girl that looks exactly like her. The Boy takes the
phone.

THE BOY: Twins.

ALYSSA: Yes.

THE BOY: I know we agreed that it’s dumb to ask since we’re all headed that
way anyway, but-

ALYSSA: Brain cancer. It was bad.

Silence.

ALYSSA: So crazy.

She Laughs out loud. They’re still walking this entire time. They stop at the
water. They stand there making small clouds for a moment.
ALYSSA: You want to say something?

The Boy shrugs.

ALYSSA: Alright-

THE BOY: Wait.

The urn almost tips over the edge. She waits for him. He walks over and
takes the urn and just holds it for a moment. Then he kinda hugs it. Laying
his head on it, but turning his head so she can’t see what he says:

THE BOY: (whisper) I’m sorry we’re alone.

He pours out the ashes. He’s gone.

ALYSSA: How do you feel? Better?

THE BOY: I feel...the same.

VOICE: HEY!

Alyssa and The Boy turn around. It’s Alyssa’s boyfriend.

BOYFRIEND: What the fuck, bro?

ALYSSA: Oh, so you now you give a fuck.

She pushes him back as he takes swipes at The Boy. The Boy is mildly
annoyed. They’re all yelling at each other.

BOYFRIEND/THE BOY/ALYSSA: You’re dead ass-hole! / Relax, nothing

happened / Would you stop!

The boyfriend breaks free from her.

BOYFRIEND: Do you know who the fuck I am?

ALYSSA: Please don’t.

THE BOY: Nah, man. I don’t know who do this. you are.

BOYFRIEND:(scream) WHAT DOES THE FOX SAY!

Silence

BOYFRIEND: I. Wrote. That. That’s my shit. I’m the nigga dressed like a fox.
That’s all me.

THE BOY: What?

The boyfriend starts making the noises a fox makes in the song.

BOYFRIEND: That!
ALYSSA: (resigned, to The Boy) Like the song and video.

THE BOY: I’ve never heard of it.

ALYSSA AND BOYFIREND: What??

ALYSSA: I thought you “were the internet”?

THE BOY: That’s a tagline. No one is the actual internet. I just must’ve missed
it when it was popular.

BOYFRIEND: Uh, by “when it was popular” do you mean, uhhh, RIGHT THE
FUCK NOW?!

THE BOY: Relax.

BOYFRIEND: Two hundred and twenty million views on YouTube. Two hundred
and twenty million. That’s most of the earth.

THE BOY: Not true.

BOYFRIEND: An African village wrote to me-

THE BOY: The whole village did?

BOYFRIEND: -and told me that my song taught them about foxes. They don’t
have foxes there. I introduced the idea of a fox to an entire continent... And
YOU wanna fuck my girl?

Silence.

THE BOY: I do not wanna fuck your girl. I don’t not want to be here. I am
going home now.

The Boy walks away. Alyssa and her boyfriend start a boring argument in the
cold as he disappears.

CUT TO:

INT. LA VEGAN RESTAURANT - NIGHT

Fam, another girl, and The Boy sit in a booth at the restaurant. Fam and the
girl are talking. The Boy is Silent. Don’t know if he’s just bored or jet lagged
from Sweden. Either way he’s bumming everyone out.

ANOTHER GIRL: My friend should be here soon.

The Boy doesn’t say anything. Fam and the girl look on.

A girl walks up to the table. The Boy looks up. It’s the girl from the party.

NAOMI: Hi.

The Boy doesn’t say anything.

ANOTHER GIRL: This is Naomi…. Hello?

FAM: He’s dumb. You should just sit and ignore him.

She sits down.

NAOMI: You're the guy that almost hit my arm.

THE BOY: Yes.

NAOMI: You guys order?

THE BOY: No. I hate vegan. I think she’s making us eat here.

NAOMT: I’m the vegan. I asked to eat here.

Silence.

THE BOY: I hate vegan.

NAOMT: (saying it dumb) Duhh, “I hate vegan”.

In his head, he was laughing. In real life, he just kinda looked down.

NAOMI: What’s the deal. Why you always act like your parents died.

The Boy smirks.

THE BOY: They did.

Awkward silence.

ANOTHER GIRL: I’m so sorry.

Fam and The Boy stare at each other for a moment. Then laugh. Another Girl
and Naomi do not.

FAM: (to The Boy) Your parents are dead, man.

THE BOY: My parents are dead yo.

They slowly stop laughing. Naomi thinks The Boy is weird. But she doesn’t
run.

INT. MANSION - NIGHT

Fam and Another Girl are sitting on the swings smoking and talking about
something they will never remember and don’t really care about.

Naomi and The Boy sit in the living room.

NAOMI: What did he do?

THE BOY: I don’t know.

NAOMI: How’d he afford all this?

THE BOY: I don’t know.

NAOMI: Then how can you afford all this? He leave you a lot?

THE BOY: Creditors were after him. I don’t know if he had anything left. I’m
not concerned. (serious) I’m gonna sell drugs.

Naomi LMAOs.

NAOMI: Whaaaaaat.

THE BOY: Fam can hook me up. I’ve been watching him for a minute. He runs
out of here already.

NAOMI: I don’t think you need me to tell you you’re an awful dealer.

THE BOY: How would you even know?

NAOMI: You make everything feel awkward. You can’t connect with anyone.
How is anyone supposed to feel like they can trust you?

THE BOY: Yeah, that’s what drug dealers are known for. Their comfort.

NAOMI: They are, dumb-ass. You gotta know how people work. You’re only
good with people online.

He slowly turns to her. “how does she know that?”

NAOMI: I looked you up.

THE BOY: After the party or just now.

NAOMI: Just now. I’m a writer too.

THE BOY: Oh really.

NAOMI: Yup. And I know I’m good cause people keep stealing my shit.

She hits the vape.

NAOMI: I tweeted this. (holds up her phone) Is that not my poem verbatim? I
posted them together. This nigga just rapped this like it was his.

THE BOY: (looking at her phone) Your first mistake is being a poet past the
year 1974, by the way.

NAOMT: That’s how good my shit is. I’m bringing the whole form back.

THE BOY: You're cocky when you’re high.

NAOMT: No. I’m talkative when I’m high. I’m cocky all the time, but I’m Silent
for most of it...like you.

He looks up. She lifts an eyebrow. He doesn’t smile. goes cross-eyed. No

response. She stops, then sighs.
Silence.

NAOMI: You ever think we’re in hell? This is all hell. Living on earth and being
the only one’s aware that it’s all ending slowly.

THE BOY: No.

NAOMT: I read something that said more than likely we all just do this all
again. It’s all a cycle.

THE BOY: I like that theory.

NAOMI: Yeah.

Silence.

NAOMI: See? You’re not such a lonely boy.

She LOLs and mushes his face with her hand. The Boy smh, but smiles.

CUT TO:

INT. RENTAL HOME - DAY

The Boy is washing dishes as Naomi stands next to him. just had lunch.
NAOMI: How bout’ Chinese?

THE BOY: Can’t.

NAOMI: Can’t why?

THE BOY: I got a run to do.

NAOMI: Oh.

Silence.

NAOMI: I thought you were having other guys do that now.

THE BOY: I am. Fam can’t do this one.

NAOMI: If you’re putting up the money you shouldn’t be making the run.

THE BOY: I don’t really trust anyone else to do it.

NAOMI: You don’t really trust anyone.

THE BOY: I trust you.

NAOMI: You shouldn’t.

The Boy stops. She got em.

THE BOY: You're right.

NAOMT: I don’t want to be right. I wanna help you.

THE BOY: (said dumb) “T don’t wanna be right”

She doesn’t laugh. He hopes she’s LOLing inside. Cellphone vibrates on the
counter across from them. The Boy goes over and reads the text.

THE BOY: I gotta go.

NAOMT: Alright.

THE BOY: You okay?

NAOMI: I’m fine.

THE BOY: Is that a fake “I’m fine”.

NAOMT: No. It’s what “I’m fine” always means.

Nothing real is ever “fine”. Remember this.

THE BOY: T'1ll be back.

He walks out. They don’t see each other anymore.

CUT TO:

EXT. I-10 -— DAY

The Boy is driving down the highway listening to “Danny Glover” by Young
Thug.

EXT. MANSION - DAY

The car parks in the driveway. There are three cars already there. When he
pulls up, he’s playing “Made in America” by JAY Z and Kanye. When it goes
off, he continues singing his version while walking up.

THE BOY: Sweet Cream Havarti/ Sweet Mozzarella/ Sweet Cheez-its. They’re
made in America/ Sweet Bowl of Cheez-its/ Ohhhhh-oohhhhh-

our dudes are standing waiting at the front door. Something is wrong.

The Boy stops singing and stands there in front of the dudes. They look at
him. Alone.

They all pull out 45s.

INT. MANSION - DAY They all walk in.

DUDE 1: Where the packs?

THE BOY: In that closet.

DUDE 1: Sit over there.

The Boy sits in the living room. Maybe he could run out the back? Where
though? They’re at the top of a mountain. If someone heard a shot in this
neighborhood, they’d call the police immediately. Unfortunately, there isn’t a
police department in the Palisades. He’d be waiting for the Santa Monica
department, which would take a minute.

The feeling The Boy had now been shockingly similar to the feeling he got at
his own parties. People he didn’t know or like casually walking through his
home and him having to pretend everything is “fine”, or that they don’t have
all the power.

Maybe he could text Fam.

DUDE 1: Give me your phone.

The Boy hands him his phone. Fuck.

Two dudes stand guard at the front and back exits. One dude packs the
bricks from the closet in a trash bag. Dude 1 (seems to be the leader) is
looking through The Boy’s phone.

It didn’t feel like the day The Boy was going to die. Not to say The Boy didn’t
feel like he was going to die, he was certain he was going to die today.

But he didn’t feel like today felt like a the last day/night. Like a Wednesday
that keeps feeling like a Friday. But the more he thought about it, if the last
day felt like the last day, the world would be a different place. The order we
have every day would vanish if you were guaranteed a warning. People
wouldn’t live like they do. They wouldn’t care what you thought. It’d be
anarchy. Or an utopia. Depending on who you ask.

Dude 1 puts The Boy’s phone in his pocket. The Boy doesn’t know if that’s a
good thing or a bad thing. Dude 1 and Dude 2 start talking. It’s obvious
they’re discussing The Boy’s fate.

If I was the director, the one who made this moment, the one who saw this
moment millennia before, the one who coded this world and allowed this to
happen, I’d have Thundercat’s “We'll Die” playing as The Boy looks around at
his once castle.

..try to do your best.

Oh! It’s like Tony Montana. But resigned and, frankly, more realistic, cause
it’s boring. Everybody dies. Most of them are boring.

All the dudes walk out except Dude 2. He stays. Dude 1 still has his phone as
he walks out. The Boy realizes this action is bad.

DUDE 2: Toss me your wallet.

This is bad. The Boy tosses the wallet. Dude 2 looks through it.

THE BOY: Can I drown?

Dude 2: looks up.

THE BOY: I just want to die how I want. There’s a pool out there. You’re
supposed to get this wave of euphoria when you drown. Supposed to be
good.

Dude 2 stares.

THE BOY: I could just float there. They’d find me.

Dude 2 starts to walks over...

Does it change anything when you're aware of your last thoughts?

Dude 2 sits next to him.

DUDE 2: We've been watching you for a while. You’re very sloppy.

He’s a cop. This nigga’s a cop.

DUDE 2: I’m just gonna stay here with you for a minute. My guys are picking
up those guys up the street.

THE BOY: Oh.

Silence.

THE BOY: I’m going to jail?

DUDE 2: Yep.
The Boy looks to the pool in the backyard and sees his own body floating
lifeless.

Eyes wide, bubbles clinging to his face. Orange, yellow, and brown leaves
float above him. His left shoe floating far ahead, probably from struggling at
some point. Next to the pool, Naomi and Steve stand over him. Neither is
crying or really seem too upset. They just look on as if the movie they were
watching took an abrupt turn and they’re mildly interested rather than
satisfied.

It looks peaceful. Fitting. He’d like to go out like that.

..what’s that sound?

Tires SCREECH outside. Dude 2 stands up. There’s a small crash outside.
Yelling.

VOICE: FREEZE!

GUNSHOTS.

The Boy and Dude 2 look at each other.

Dude 1: kicks open the door. He starts firing. Dude 2 falls. A mist of red puff
spurts from his chest. He’s screaming.

Dude 1 turns to The Boy and shoots.

..breath.....breath...........breath.

Silence.
THE END