BEYOND THIS ISLE
Season 1, Episode 1
"NO GOING BACK"
Written by
Robert Lentz
Based on characters from the "Life is Strange" series of video
games created and developed by DONTNOD Entertainment and Deck
Nine, copyright Square Enix.
rob_lentz on twitter, instagram, AO3
roblentz on FFnet
writtenbyroblentz on tumblr (updates on following episodes will be here)
robcotrproductions on reddit
.
TEASER
EXT. HOBOKEN - ESTABLISHING - NIGHT
Darkness envelopes the sky.
A picturesque, postcard-photo worthy view of New York City's world famous skyline.
The engine of some sort of truck HUMS for a moment, then stops. Doors CREAK open, and SLAM shut.
EXT. HOBOKEN - CONTINUOUS
CHLOE PRICE (19), an effortlessly pretty girl - short blue hair descends near her shoulders, grunge inspired clothes breathe life into an otherwise normal girl. Intricate floral tattoo on her right arm. She could be a model, if she tried... But she doesn't try, and that's beautiful in its own right.
RACHEL AMBER (19), the antithesis to Chloe's lax appearance - long, straight, light brown hair descends to her mid back, large, fashionable winter jacket fits snugly around her. Star tattoo on her inner left wrist and a dragon on her right calf. She is a model and she does try... an admirable and similarly beautiful trait.
Hands locked together, they stand behind the handrail.
RACHEL
It's beautiful, isn't it?
CHLOE
I've never seen anything like it.
RACHEL
Reminds you that there's a whole
world out there, outside of Arcadia Bay.
CHLOE
A whole world that we're gonna see. Together.
They lean in for a long, passionate kiss. But this one's different - it feels new. Fresh. Confident.
END TEASER
.
ACT ONE
EXT. PRICE HOUSE - ESTABLISHING - MORNING
SUPER: "One Month Earlier"
The unmistakable view of the Price family home - top half of the low-middle class suburban house painted a vibrant but fading blue, bottom half still the original beige.
A polished, baby blue muscle car in the driveway, hood raised-
DAVID MADSEN (40s), Chloe's step-dad, the hardened military man, wears a plaid button down shirt tucked into blue, regular cut jeans, military-inspired haircut and a divine, thick, manly mustache works on... something under the hood.
INT. CHLOE'S ROOM - ESTABLISHING - SAME
Some indie band's music hums softly from a speaker system.
The room's wooden floors are barely visible under the mess of dirty clothes, discarded papers and other debris.
A small, metal box sits snugly under the bed.
A relatively antique stereo system next on a small bookshelf, green bars fluctuating on the tiny screen.
Atop an old television lies an older POLAROID CAMERA, a blanket of dust covering the entire thing - it hasn't been touched in years.
INT. CHLOE'S ROOM - CONTINUOUS
On the wide double bed lies Chloe Price, bags under her eyes, hair absolutely disheveled. Still wearing the same tank-top and skinny jeans from yesterday. She hasn't slept.
A joint rests between her fingers, ash tray on the end table next to her. An alarm clock next to it reads "7:30" in red, blocky numbers.
She takes a puff of the joint, thick grey smoke spouts into the room. Chloe sighs as she gazes at the alarm clock.
CHLOE
Fuck me.
Suddenly, three loud KNOCKS pound on the room's door.
DAVID (O.S.)
Chloe? Is that marijuana I smell?
Chloe?
Chloe quickly jumps up from bed, carefully puts the joint out in the ash tray.
She takes the ash tray and tries to put it... somewhere.
Anywhere.
CHLOE
Fuck. Shit. Fuck.
Clutter covers every inch of every possible hiding spot.
The door swings open. Chloe stands their, ash tray in hands, deer-in-headlights expression overtaking her face.
DAVID
What did I tell you about abusing
drugs in my home?
CHLOE
Paranoid, much? It's just a
cigarette.
DAVID
Cigarette my ass. I know what
marijuana smells like, Chloe.
CHLOE
So that makes it okay to barge
into my room like this?
DAVID
Changing the subject. Common tactic that
signifies guilt. Just wait until your
mother hears about this.
Chloe visibly doesn't give a fuck.
DAVID (CONT'D)
Get your ass ready. Work starts in half an hour.
He closes the door on his way out.
Chloe puts the ash tray back on the end table.
She re-lights the joint and takes a long drag, her free hand flips the bird at the door.
CHLOE
Asshole.
EXT. BLACKWELL ACADEMY - ESTABLISHING - MORNING
A relatively large, brick school institution towers over a fine, well kept courtyard at the edge of Arcadia Bay, bordering a gorgeous, dense green forest.
STUDENTS sparsely scattered around the courtyard. Some skateboarding, some doing homework, some playing Dungeons and Dragons.
A bronze statue of Jeremiah Blackwell, the school's founder, stands tall and proud at the center of a fountain.
On the edge of the fountain sits VICTORIA CHASE (18) and NATHAN PRESCOTT (18).
Victoria is the archetypal "mean girl" - well maintained, fine golden blond hair, an outfit worth hundreds of dollars. Cashmere.
Nathan has a similar vibe to him - extravagantly wealthy, but slightly more unconventional. A little anxious.
NATHAN
You know I'm her friend, right?
VICTORIA
Not sure how. Fucking slut.
Nathan shakes his head and walks away from Victoria, into the school.
A small but expensive four-door car parks at the base of the steps, opposite the main building.
INT. AMBER CAR - SAME
District Attorney JAMES AMBER (40s), Rachel's father, sits behind the wheel. He wears a crisp, perfectly fitted black suit, haircut high and tight. He means business.
Rachel in the passenger. An awkward silence, until-
RACHEL
Dad. Dad. It's Friday?
James stirs, as if he forgot.
JAMES
Oh. Right.
He sighs as he reaches into his suit jacket's inner pocket - removes a check and reluctantly hands it to his daughter.
RACHEL
Was that really so hard?
JAMES
Of course not. Anything for my
world.
He halfheartedly smiles.
Rachel rolls her eyes as she steps out of the car, to-
EXT. BLACKWELL ACADEMY - CONTINUOUS
She nonchalantly heads up the steps, backpack haphazardly hanging off one shoulder.
As Rachel makes it onto campus, heads turn in awe - all the boys and girls stare at her, captivated, as if she's on a runway and they're on the sidelines.
Everyone, except Victoria.
Victoria gets right in Rachel's way as she passes the fountain.
VICTORIA
Rachel Amber. How are you?
RACHEL
What do you want, Victoria?
VICTORIA
Oh, nothing. Just think you look
beautiful today.
RACHEL
Sure.
VICTORIA
Oh, right, and I heard
some rumors about you.
RACHEL
Did you?
VICTORIA
Word on the street is
Rachel Amber is into some hard shit.
RACHEL
What street is that?
VICTORIA
That's not- the point is... Frank
Bowers. I mean it's obvious.
Rachel tries to push past her. Victoria doesn't let her.
RACHEL
Look, Victoria, I'd love to stay
and chat, but-
VICTORIA
You have class? Thought you were
too edgy to show up, what with
your punk slut, Kiara Price and all?
RACHEL
What did you-
VICTORIA
Or is it Colleen Price? Is she,
like, your fixer-upper? The dead
dad thing? Or is sex with a
deadbeat druggy hotter than it
sounds?
Rachel slaps her... hard. Right across the face.
Victoria recoils, hand against her cheek.
Students stare, totally shocked.
RACHEL
Get the fuck out of my way.
Victoria steps aside as Rachel struts into Blackwell.
Face more red than before, Victoria stands there - hand on her cheek, mouth agape.
INT. CHLOE'S ROOM - MORNING
Only the reflection of Chloe's room in a mirror, until-
Chloe steps in front wearing a Two Whales Diner uniform.
She stares at herself, not amused whatsoever.
CHLOE
Fuck my life.
EXT. TWO WHALES DINER - ESTABLISHING - MORNING
The vintage diner sits on the side of the road.
A giant blue whale sign stands tall on the roof of the building, bottom text reads: "Two Whales DINER"
Chalk sign near the stairway in reads: "Yes! We're OPEN!"
Chloe turns into the near-full parking lot and parks her pick-up, gets out, and heads up the stairs to-
INT. TWO WHALES DINER - CONTINUOUS
She pushes the metallic door open and steps into the claustrophobic diner. The place is packed.
JOYCE PRICE (40s), Chloe's tired and underappreciated mother, wearing the same Two Whales uniform and white apron as Chloe, works behind it, taking orders.
She looks up, for a moment- her eyes lock with her daughter's.
Chloe checks her phone: "7:15 AM".
She takes her apron off her shoulder and quickly ties it around her waist.
CHLOE
(under breath)
Here we go.
Joyce's heels click loudly as she approaches Chloe, disappointed look ingrained in her face.
JOYCE
Nice of you to show up.
CHLOE
What, not happy to see me?
JOYCE
Would've been happy fifteen minutes ago.
CHLOE
Better late than never.
JOYCE
Only the first time. Doesn't apply for the tenth.
CHLOE
Look, I'm sorry. I slept through
my alarm and-
Joyce stares into Chloe's bloodshot eyes.
JOYCE
-Are you kidding me?
CHLOE
What?
JOYCE
Your eyes are blood
red. Are you high?
CHLOE
No. Why would you even-
JOYCE
-I'm sick of all these lies, Chloe.
You smell worse than a damn dispensary.
CHLOE
Sorry.
JOYCE
No, I'm sorry. You're fired.
CHLOE
Are you fucking joking?
JOYCE
The whole point of this job was to
set you straight. Get you back on track
and line your pockets a bit.
And this is how you thank me? Tardy
ten times in a single month and
you show up high to work?
CHLOE
Mom, I-
JOYCE
-No. This is a real job, Chloe, in the
real world. How do you expect to
leave Arcadia Bay and make it
on your own, huh? It's not easy.
Chloe looks ashamed.
JOYCE (CONT'D)
Go home. You're fired.
Chloe unties her apron and throws it on the filthy floor.
CHLOE
Fuck you.
The diner goes silent for a moment, watching in shock as Chloe barges out of the diner.
After a quick beat, they all start talking again like nothing happened.
INT. DRAMA LAB - DAY
A miniature stage slightly elevated above ground level sits in the middle of a wide classroom.
Cheesy inspirational quote posters decorate the otherwise drab walls, notably: "Listen to your heart. When you hear it stop beating, seek medical attention."
Along the back of the class, STUDENTS line up, side by side.
JULIET WATSON (19), and HAYDEN JONES (19), stand out from the crowd, along with the lovely Rachel Amber and tweaking Nathan Prescott. Victoria nowhere to be seen.
MR. TRAVIS KEATON (40s), Blackwell's overly enthusiastic drama instructor faces the students, clipboard in hand, pacing back and forth.
MR. KEATON
Welcome beloved thespians to yet another
Blackwell drama production, produced by yours truly. As I'm sure
you're aware, the opening semester of Mr. Jefferson's
photography class has taken a firm grasp on
student's interest... and the school's funding,
leaving the drama department in a sorry state.
Some students roll their eyes. Mr. Keaton continues pacing.
MR. KEATON (CONT'D)
However, the lack of a proper budget
shall not hold this theatre back from its
destiny. For drama is the essence
of life, and without it... I won't have a job.
Beat. The pacing is almost uncomfortable now.
MR. KEATON (CONT'D)
Anyway, budding Hollywood and
Broadway superstars, today is the
day we've all been waiting for-
The reveal of the cast for Travis
Keaton's production of William
Shakespeare's Romeo and Juliet.
The students sarcastically cheer. A few clap insincerely.
Nobody really cares all that much.
Except for Rachel, of course.
MR. KEATON (CONT'D)
As with previous plays, the main
roles in this production shall be
reverse cast in order to fully
integrate these classical
masterpieces into modern society.
NATHAN
Get on with it, Mr. K.
STUDENT #1
Seriously, dude.
Rachel rolls her eyes.
MR. KEATON
I humbly apologize, students.
Hayden Jones cast as Mercutio.
Juliet Watson as Tybalt...
Rachel zones out. Romeo and Juliet has a lot of characters.
MR. KEATON (CONT'D)
And finally, the two stars of the play.
For our tragic, beautiful Juliet... Nathan Prescott.
And, as the romantic, troubled but charismatic
Romeo... none other than Rachel Amber.
Rachel smiles and takes out her phone.
Some students get off track. Mr. Keaton too tired to intervene.
Rachel navigates to her messages and clicks on "CHLOE".
[NOTE: Text messages are in italics.]
RACHEL (TEXT)
Guess what?
CHLOE (TEXT)
you're perfect
RACHEL (TEXT)
Well, yes, but that's not really news.
You're talking to Blackwell's new
Romeo Montague! Lead role of Romeo and Juliet.
CHLOE (TEXT)
isn't romeo a dude
RACHEL (TEXT)
I'll explain later.
CHLOE (TEXT)
well congrats babe. talk to u later
Rachel slips the phone back into her pocket as Mr. Keaton regains control of the class.
MR. KEATON
Now, everyone, feel free to socialize with your
co-stars until your heart's content. Or at
least until the end of the class period.
Rachel approaches Mr. Keaton.
The students socialize. Except Nathan, who looks out of his element.
RACHEL
Thanks, Mr. Keaton.
MR. KEATON
Unnecessary gratitude, Ms. Amber,
for the only person you should thank... is yourself, and your
overwhelming talent. You have a bright future
ahead of you, and I am proud, awed, and thankful to be alive
to witness your transformation from caterpillar to butterfly.
RACHEL
Right. I'm just glad that you
decided to-
Suddenly, Victoria bursts in. Everyone goes silent.
One side of her face still reddened from her earlier altercation with Rachel. Make-up smeared as if she's been crying, a rarity for Victoria.
She shoots a dirty, angry look to Rachel but then... she smirks.
Principal RAYMOND WELLS (40s), the balding, alcoholic, emotionless, fake-nice commander in chief of Blackwell Academy steps into the room. Face stern, posture straight.
His gaze immediately snaps to Rachel. Hands behind his back.
WELLS
Ms. Amber, I'd like to see you in
my office. Immediately.
The boom of his voice echoes through the classroom.
All eyes on Rachel - everyone just as shocked as she is.
VICTORIA
You heard him.
Rachel looks back at her. Victoria sarcastically waves goodbye.
WELLS
Immediately means now, Ms. Amber.
No stalling, please, I've got a
busy day ahead of me.
She sighs and follows him out of the classroom, leaving everyone present in awe.
END ACT ONE
.
ACT TWO
INT. WELLS' OFFICE - ESTABLISHING - DAY
A clean, maroon-red leather computer chair sits empty behind an egregiously expensive, well-maintained mahogany desk. Two small, cheap black chairs on the opposite side.
Juxtaposed with the brand new desk is the dated, monstrous computer. Must way ten pounds, at least.
Also on the desk are two manila files: one labeled "RACHEL AMBER" and the other "CHLOE PRICE".
A half full bottle of whiskey discreetly hides on one of the lower shelves, partially blocked by a cupboard but visible if you're looking for it.
The office door swings open, and-
INT. WELLS' OFFICE - CONTINUOUS
Principal Wells steps into the office and beelines straight for his fancy throne.
Rachel lags slowly behind, eventually takes a seat in one of the black chairs.
WELLS
Do you know why I've called you in here, Ms. Amber?
RACHEL
To congratulate me on my new role?
Wells, not amused, somehow manages to turn the beefy desktop towards Rachel. On it, pixilated security camera footage of Rachel and Victoria in front of the school.
Rachel sighs. Wells clicks play.
CLOSE ON: FOOTAGE
of Rachel slapping Victoria across the face, more satisfying each time it's replayed.
BACK TO SCENE
WELLS
Ms. Amber, this type of behavior is absolutely
unacceptable, especially on school grounds.
RACHEL
I know. I'm sorry, Principal Wells.
WELLS
The apology is appreciated, though it doesn't
absolve you from your clear disregarded
for campus rules. However, Ms. Amber, this is only
the first of a multitude of reasons why we're here.
Wells opens Rachel's file.
WELLS (CONT'D)
Secondly are rumors about you that
I'd like to address concerning your alleged
'drug use'. As you know, illegal substances
used on or off-
RACHEL
-Victoria has no proof of-
WELLS
-school grounds. Along with reports from concerned
students, including Ms. Chase, I have received
damning evidence supporting these
allegations: photographs of you with
Mr. Francis Bowers, one of Arcadia Bay's most undesirable
members of society.
He shows her the pictures: Rachel and Frank in front of his RV, by the lighthouse, on the beach, etc.
RACHEL
Where did you get those?
WELLS
My sources are confidential. And, considering
you're the District Attorney's daughter, I'm sure you
understand. This evidence also goes hand in hand
with your very public relationship with Ms. Chloe Price,
who isn't necessarily known as a paragon
of lawful behavior throughout Arcadia.
Rachel sits there, stunned.
WELLS (CONT'D)
But that's not all, Ms. Amber. We also must discuss
your rapid accumulation of absences over the
past couple of years. Since the incident in which you were
hospitalized after the Tempest play a few
years ago, you have missed a total of
seventy-five school days.
RACHEL
Yeah.
WELLS
So we're in agreement, then.
Wells closes the folder.
WELLS (CONT'D)
Ms. Amber, you know I have a great respect for you
and your contributions to Blackwell both
in photography and drama, and I do concede that you are perhaps
the most talented individual that has ever
walked our halls. However, your blatant disregard for education
and Blackwell's rules has forced my hand.
Rachel sits there, emotionless. Defeated... until she remembers who she is.
RACHEL
Look, Principal Wells, I know I've made mistakes.
Truly. That hospital visit changed my life in ways I didn't
even know were possible. Have you ever come face to face
with your own death, Principal Wells?
WELLS
No, I can't say that I have.
RACHEL
It's terrifying. After that, I was never the same.
How could I be? Almost losing everything put my
life into perspective - I wasn't happy with who I was.
Wells watches, enthralled by Rachel's story.
RACHEL (CONT'D)
This story isn't an excuse for my behavior. My actions
were - are - inexcusable, but I hope it at least serves as
some sort of explanation. Principal Wells, I'm deeply sorry for my erratic
behavior these past few years. I promise that I will learn from this and
use it to become the very best person
that I could be. I hope you can forgive me.
WELLS
A truly touching story, Ms. Amber, and I'm sorry
you've had to go through this traumatic experience. Due to
these... extenuating circumstances and your heartfelt
apology, I'm willing to compromise.
Wells leans in towards Rachel as she wipes tears from her eyes.
WELLS (CONT'D)
While I initially intended to
suspend you for ten days, I will
decrease the punishment to only
five.
RACHEL
Thank you, Principal Wells.
WELLS
I'm not finished. As it's quite clear to me that suspensions
often don't successfully combat future bad behavior, you're
involvement in Blackwell's production
of Romeo and Juliet is hereby terminated.
RACHEL
Oh.
Tears well in Rachel's eyes once again, this time sincerely.
WELLS
Your suspension is active immediately, and Mr. Keaton
shall be informed of this punishment as soon as possible so he
can make the proper arrangements. Good
day, Ms. Amber. You may leave.
Rachel gets up and leaves Wells' office, tears roll down her cheeks. She closes the door behind her.
Wells lets out a long sigh. He gets up, grabs the bottle of whiskey from its hiding spot and pours himself a glass.
He takes a long sip.
INT. PRICE HOUSE - FIRST FLOOR - ESTABLISHING - DAY
The house's first floor foyer.
Brown corkboard on the wall, photos of a younger Chloe hang on it nostalgically: her on a swing, chasing birds, etc.
A brown paper bag next to the door, some groceries packed inside.
INT. PRICE HOUSE - FIRST FLOOR - CONTINUOUS
Chloe suddenly bursts through the door, pissed off.
She SLAMS it closed when she steps inside.
CHLOE
Just another shitty day for the
collection. Glad Rachel's was all
right, though.
Her phone BUZZES.
She whips it out of her pocket and checks her messages.
Rachel.
RACHEL (TEXT)
Shitty day. Just lost everything.
CHLOE (TEXT)
same. wanna talk about it?
RACHEL (TEXT)
More like NEED to talk about it. Meet me at
the junkyard later. Like old times?
CHLOE (TEXT)
hella YES!
Chloe puts her phone in her pocket. She can't help but crack a giddy smile, despite the circumstances.
Chloe places her hand on the bannister and makes it half way up the stairs, until-
DAVID (O.S.)
Chloe? Is that you?
CHLOE
Fuck. Uh- no?
DAVID (O.S.)
Don't go upstairs. I need to talk
to you.
Chloe looks up to the Heavens and sighs.
David reaches the bottom of the steps.
DAVID (CONT'D)
I thought I told you to go to work.
Did you skip? Again?
CHLOE
No, I didn't skip. I'm wearing my
uniform, dumbass.
DAVID
Then why are you home?
Chloe ignores him and walks up a few more steps.
DAVID (CONT'D)
Answer me right now, soldier.
That's an order.
CHLOE
I was fired, okay? Leave me the
fuck alone.
DAVID
Smoking marijuana and getting
fired? That's what deadbeats do,
Chloe. You brought this on yourself.
CHLOE
Between you and mom, I-
David holds up a baggy of weed and shakes it as if Chloe were a dog. Anger blankets Chloe's face.
CHLOE (CONT'D)
-Where did you get that? David? Did you...?
David chuckles. Chloe storms upstairs.
David follows her, to-
INT. CHLOE'S ROOM - SAME
Chloe pushes the door open. It's a total mess, even worse than it was before. David stands in the doorway.
CHLOE
Are you serious? You searched my
room?
DAVID
Like I told you earlier: drugs will
not be abused in my home.
CHLOE
This isn't your fucking home, step-douche.
You don't belong here.
DAVID
Would you rather I call the police,
Chloe? Marijuana is illegal.
CHLOE
So is invading someone's privacy.
DAVID
If I were a police officer-
CHLOE
-I might actually respect you.
Chloe pushes David out.
CHLOE (CONT'D)
Stay the fuck out of my room.
She slams the door in his face and presses her ear up against it - listening as David's footsteps get further and further away.
She listens as the front door opens, then closes - lock CLICKS.
Chloe lights a cigarette and takes a drag, attempts to calm herself down to no avail.
The engine of David's loud muscle car booms to life. Chloe listens as the car departs. Thank god.
CHLOE (CONT'D)
Bullshit.
She approaches her bed, about to climb in, until-
CLINK!
Her boot lightly taps the metal keepsake box.
She picks it up with her free hand, places it on her bed and opens it. There's... nothing inside.
CHLOE (CONT'D)
I swear to god I had pictures in
here.
She searches the floor of the room. Nothing.
She takes a long toke of her cigarette.
EXT. BLACKWELL ACADEMY - AFTERNOON
Rachel sits alone on the steps nearest the street, face buried in her hands.
Seemingly out of nowhere, Nathan approaches. He takes a seat right next to her. Uncomfortably close.
NATHAN
Vic told me what happened.
Rachel quickly regains her composure and looks to Nathan. Her make-up totally smeared, eyes puffy and red.
RACHEL
What are you doing here, Nathan?
NATHAN
Just comforting my friend.
RACHEL
Shouldn't you be with Victoria,
then?
NATHAN
What, we're not friends?
Rachel doesn't answer.
NATHAN (CONT'D)
I just wanted to let you know
that if you ever want to party-
RACHEL
-Jesus Christ.
NATHAN
You know I've got the good shit,
Rachel.
RACHEL
Not interested.
NATHAN
You can try some tomorrow, if you
want. We're shooting, you know.
He'll send the details in the morning.
Nathan puts his arm around her, just as-
James' car pulls over in front of the school. Perfect timing.
Rachel quickly breaks free from Nathan's unwanted grasp and gets in the passenger. Slams the door behind her.
Nathan watches from the steps as Rachel and James drive off.
NATHAN (CONT'D)
Bitch.
EXT. AMBER HOUSE - ESTABLISHING - EVENING
A gorgeous red wood mansion stands tall, surrounded by even taller pine trees. It's astoundingly fancy, especially in comparison to Chloe's middle class townhouse.
Brick and cobblestone pillars near an unnecessarily beautiful stained glass doorway.
To the left of the house sits a two door garage connected to the main house. Cobblestone driveway totally empty, until-
The Amber car slowly pulls in, engine hum softens until it's inaudible as the car stops.
INT. AMBER CAR - SAME
James turns the key and removes it from the ignition.
An awkward silence lingers through the car.
JAMES
I'm sorry, Rachel.
RACHEL
What?
JAMES
This is all my fault. The lies I've told. About Sera.
Damon. Everything. I betrayed your trust, your
love. If I never would've...
RACHEL
I know, dad.
JAMES
I pushed you here. I ruined
everything and I get that now. I
never meant to hurt you.
RACHEL
Yet you still did.
JAMES
I wish I could go back in time and make
different decisions. I was wrong. It's okay
you got suspended, Rachel. It's going to be okay.
RACHEL
It's not school. I don't give a
shit about that. It's the play.
JAMES
The play?
RACHEL
Romeo and Juliet. I never told you. I was supposed to be
Romeo. If I knew I would've been suspended for
this, I would've knocked Victoria's fucking teeth out.
James sighs.
JAMES
I've been a horrible father, and I know that. I know
I can never earn back your
trust, Rachel, but I'd like the chance to fix this.
RACHEL
Fix this?
JAMES
Fix us. Maybe we'll never get back to
where we were, but we can try to get close. Let's
pick up the pieces, Rachel, and try to put this back together.
RACHEL
There aren't enough pieces to put
together, dad. Not anymore.
Rachel gets out of the car, hangs her backpack off one shoulder and slams the door behind her.
He pulls a picture out of the glovebox of him and Rachel, still a toddler, when they still lived in California.
INT. RACHEL'S ROOM - ESTABLISHING - EVENING
The relatively large room is clean, organized and beautiful - brimming with personality from every corner.
A Zodiac poster on the wall, focusing on Leos.
Type-4 Enneagram poster next to the polished, white desk.
An industrial grade flashlight with a purple galaxy dome covering the light next to a sleek laptop.
On the wall behind a bed hangs a large map of the United States. Graffiti in Chloe's handwriting reads:
"The corners of the world our mere prologue."
INT. RACHEL'S ROOM - CONTINUOUS
Rachel slowly steps into her safe haven. Relief washes over her face as she softly closes the door behind her.
RACHEL
Finally.
She darts straight for the lamp and turns it off. Then, to the window over the desk. Drops the curtains, sunlight blocked.
She grabs the flashlight off the desk. Holds it in her hands and stares at it, nostalgically, for a moment.
RACHEL (CONT'D)
Chloe Price.
She presses the flashlight's "On" switch.
The light reflects perfectly off the galaxy textured dome - stars blanket the entirety of the room. Rachel's own personal galaxy.
She places the flashlight on the floor in the middle of the room, takes her sneakers off and lies on her bed.
Rachel stares longingly at the stars. Then, to the map.
RACHEL (CONT'D)
"We shall fly beyond this isle."
Back to the ceiling. A peaceful moment-
-Interrupted by her phone's vibration.
CHLOE (TEXT)
still on for the junkyard soon?
RACHEL (TEXT)
Wouldn't miss it for the world.
CHLOE (TEXT)
cool just got some shit to take
care of real quick.
RACHEL (TEXT)
Oh. What kind? Need help?
CHLOE (TEXT)
nah just some sgt. dickhead shit.
meet u there in a couple hours.
Rachel locks her phone and tosses it to the side.
RACHEL
Chloe Price, you are one of a kind.
A smile creeps on her face as she continues to stare at the ceiling. Stars dance and twinkle before her eyes.
END ACT TWO
.
ACT THREE
INT. CHLOE'S ROOM - EVENING
Chloe slips her phone into the pocket of her black, skintight leather jeans, straps hanging in a an 'x' formation. Totally punk rock.
A cigarette rests between her pointer and middle fingers.
She takes a drag, we see her black tanktop with a modern, blocky "PUNK DOE" graphic.
CHLOE
Now or never, Chloe.
She drops the cigarette on the cluttered floor and stomps it out, quickly. Grabs her dad's brown leather jacket and puts it on as she leaves the room.
INT. DAVID'S GARAGE - ESTABLISHING - EVENING
A grimy, cold, uncomfortable garage - it almost looks more like a nuclear fallout shelter.
Trimmed, wooden gun cabinet sits snugly in the corner of the room - large, military-grade silver padlock engaged.
Antique, clunky washer and dryer unit. Box of miscellaneous junk sits on top, case of tiny tools barely hanging over the edge.
Disgusting dark black oil puddle on the concrete floor in front of the lengthy workbench.
Tons of random papers on the table, handwriting too messy to read. Framed photos of David and Joyce. An old laptop.
Cabinets on the wall above the workbench. Sketchy, out-of-place manila folders on top.
Hundreds of non-perishables: beans, soups, chips, etc. A commendable stash if this were "The Walking Dead".
INT. DAVID'S GARAGE - CONTINUOUS
Chloe steps into the man cave, takes a look around.
She looks at the oil slick.
CHLOE
Gross, gunked up... ew.
She starts scanning the room for... something. Anything of interest. The washer, the gun rack, the food... nothing suspicious.
This no-evidence method isn't working for her.
CHLOE (CONT'D)
Fuck this. Let's see how you like having your room torn apart, step-prick.
She does just that - wreaks havoc on David's personal hideout.
Box pushed off the drier, contents crash to the floor. Tiny tools slide under the cabinet.
She brushes the papers off the workbench, most of it drenched in oil. Totally ruined.
She grabs one of the picture frames. Locks eyes with David, then Joyce.
CHLOE (CONT'D)
You'll never replace dad.
She slams the picture frame on the ground.
Glass shatters everywhere, a minefield of sparkling shards.
Chloe knocks over the pyramid of cans, each one rolls softly all over the room. She picks one up, and-
SMASH!
The can busts through the glass gun cabinet. Debris everywhere. Guns completely exposed.
Chloe reaches to take one but hesitates.
CHLOE (CONT'D)
Maybe if I didn't already trash the place.
She swings the leftmost cabinet open.
A... television? She's caught off guard.
Chloe flips the on switch.
CLOSE ON: TV SCREEN
that displays surveillance camera footage of her house.
Pictures cycle through the kitchen, hallway, front yard, garage, backyard, bathroom.
BACK TO SCENE
Chloe steps back.
CHLOE (CONT'D)
What the fuck? He's watching us?
As if he couldn't be any creepier.
She shakes her head. In the corner of her eye, she catches a glimpse of the near-hidden stack of manila folders.
CHLOE (CONT'D)
If that's not shady as shit, I
don't know what is.
Luckily for her, she's tall enough to easily grab them.
She spreads them out on the workbench and opens them, one by one.
Pictures of Chloe, Rachel, Frank, Nathan, cars, trucks, buildings... you name it, it's photographed.
CHLOE (CONT'D)
Holy shit. What the hell is all this?
Three sprawling, illegible pages of coordinates. Hundreds upon hundreds of numbers, line after line after line.
CHLOE (CONT'D)
John McClane thinks he's still
fighting the Germans.
Chloe's eyes widen as she reaches the final folder.
The pictures of her and Rachel from the box in her room inside.
CHLOE (CONT'D)
I fucking knew he stole these.
She pockets the pictures he stole, heads towards the door to leave the room, but stops. Looks back to the evidence.
She grabs the folders and everything in them.
CHLOE (CONT'D)
Might come in handy.
Chloe exits the garage, closes the door behind her.
We linger on the destroyed garage, for a moment.
She really did a number on it.
INT. RACHEL'S ROOM - EVENING
A duffel bag lies open in the middle of the room.
Rachel reaches into her wardrobe, takes a couple pairs of jeans. Tosses them into the bag.
Then, to the drawers - a couple shirts, two pairs of underwear and two bras. From her hands to the bag.
Her phone BUZZES on the desk. She grabs it.
CHLOE (TEXT)
hey parked out front
Rachel smirks and pockets the phone.
Throws the bag over her shoulder and leaves the room.
INT. AMBER HOUSE - UPSTAIRS
Walks down the hallway quickly, with purpose, to-
INT. AMBER HOUSE - STAIRS
Speeds down the stairs, lucky she didn't fall.
INT. AMBER HOUSE - FIRST FLOOR
Stealthily emerges from the staircase, peeks around the corner.
James reads the paper while ROSE AMBER (40s), Rachel's step-mother, cooks something on the stove.
Hand on the doorknob, she slowly twists it and creaks open the door-
BEEP, BEEP, BEEP! The house's alarm system.
RACHEL
(under breath)
Oh, fuck me.
Both parents stir, eyes on Rachel, and meet her at the door.
JAMES
Rachel?
ROSE
Where are you headed this late, honey?
RACHEL
Out.
JAMES
Out where?
He checks his watch.
JAMES (CONT'D)
It's almost ten.
RACHEL
Tomorrow's Saturday. And it's not like I have school to worry about.
JAMES
Well, that doesn't mean-
RACHEL
-Just let me go, Dad.
ROSE
You haven't told us where you're going.
RACHEL
I don't see why you care. You're
not my mom.
JAMES
Rachel.
ROSE
No. She's right.
JAMES
Apologize, Rachel. That was
disrespectful.
RACHEL
Sorry, Rose. Eat a dick, dad.
ROSE
Rachel, honey-
RACHEL
-Just leave me alone. Both of you, please. I'm done fighting.
JAMES
Then it can't hurt to tell us where you're going.
RACHEL
Fine, you wanna know so bad? Out
with Chloe. Don't know where.
Doesn't matter.
JAMES
Is that really such a good idea,
Rachel?
RACHEL
What's that supposed to mean?
JAMES
Well, with Chloe's delinquent reputation around Arcadia
and your current situation at Blackwell, don't
you think it'd be best to stay away? Just
until this all blows over, of course.
RACHEL
As if I'd take advice from a lying,
cheating piece of shit like you.
JAMES
Rachel, I'm just trying to-
RACHEL
-And don't you ever talk about
Chloe like that again.
JAMES
I'm just calling it like I see it.
Rachel looks to the floor. Then, back to James.
RACHEL
Go fuck yourself.
Rachel steps outside, and-
EXT. AMBER HOUSE - SAME
-Slams the door behind her.
She jogs through her front yard to Chloe's pick-up.
From outside, we see Chloe get startled and reach over to the passenger door. She unlocks and opens it for Rachel.
Rachel tosses the duffle bag in the pick-up's bed and climbs in shotgun. Closes the door behind her.
INT. CHLOE'S TRUCK
From inside the car, we can barely see James and Rose step in front of the window, spying on their daughter.
Rachel looks Chloe in the eyes.
CHLOE
Rachel.
RACHEL
Chloe.
She leans over and kisses Chloe. Not a long one, but a passionate one.
James and Rose continue to watch as the kiss ends.
CHLOE
Let's get out of here.
Chloe puts the car in drive and speeds off.
EXT. JUNKYARD - ESTABLISHING - NIGHT
Chloe's dingy pick-up parked at the center of a vast junkyard. Hundreds upon hundred of destroyed cars in messy piles.
A small, rusted, abandoned boat sits alone within the automobile graveyard.
By the entrance, a sign fallen on its side. An evil, angry red skull smeared over the little girl's face.
A trashed four door car. Hood scrunched up, barely open. One side smashed in. 'REST IN PIECES' written on the driver's seat in black ink.
A dirty, dilapidated shack nestled within mountains of cars.
Indie music hums softly. Lights dimly shine through boarded up windows.
INT. JUNKYARD SHACK - NIGHT
A lantern emits a bit of light from the center of the room.
A dart board on the wall, picture of David dead center. Below it, tallies next to 'RACHEL' and 'CHLOE' written in black ink. Rachel's got a lot more tallies.
On the adjacent wall, a bit of graffiti: One sentence atop the other. Graffiti reads:
"Chloe was here."
"Rachel was here."
A trippy and distressed but oddly beautiful bright yellow elephant tapestry covers almost an entire wall.
Beneath it, a questionably dirty couch, Rachel and Chloe sitting next to one another.
CHLOE
That bad, huh?
RACHEL
Yeah. Wells, Dad, Victoria, Nathan.
It's all fucked.
CHLOE
I'm glad I'm not another name on
the list.
RACHEL
You couldn't be, even if you tried.
I'm glad you're here, Chloe.
CHLOE
Of course.
RACHEL
We haven't been here in a while.
CHLOE
Sixty-five days. But who's
counting?
RACHEL
I'm sorry, Chloe. I never meant to hurt you.
CHLOE
You weren't the first.
RACHEL
That doesn't make it okay.
Chloe sulks.
RACHEL (CONT'D)
What about you?
CHLOE
About me?
RACHEL
We were talking about how our days went?
CHLOE
Oh, right. I got fired, the evil mustache busted
me smoking pot, searched my room and
stole from me, and now I'm here.
RACHEL
So a normal day in the Price
household?
CHLOE
As normal as it gets.
Rachel moves closer to Chloe, leans her head on the punk's shoulder.
RACHEL
Our lives have been a mess, haven't they?
CHLOE
Understatement of the year.
RACHEL
You ever wonder why we were dealt
such shit cards?
CHLOE
Every day for the last... since my dad died.
RACHEL
How long's it been?
CHLOE
Too damn long. I miss him. So much.
RACHEL
I know.
CHLOE
Sometimes I wonder if he's keeping
me here, but then I remember...
RACHEL
He's dead.
CHLOE
Yeah. He's dead.
Beat.
Rachel lifts her head up from Chloe's shoulder. Looks her in the eyes.
RACHEL
Let's get out of Arcadia. Forever.
CHLOE
Remember the last ten times we tried?
RACHEL
This time's different. We're ready.
CHLOE
I don't know, Rachel.
RACHEL
We have money, a sick ride, years
of trauma, our youth.
CHLOE
Each other.
RACHEL
Exactly. We can do this.
CHLOE
Are you sure you're ready, Rachel.
But what about-
RACHEL
-I'm done with that. I want this, Chloe. I know
you want it too, ever since we first
met. What do we have to lose?
CHLOE
How much do you have saved up?
RACHEL
A few thousand. Maybe five? Five
and a half?
CHLOE
I have two, I think. Maybe a bit
less.
RACHEL
Well that's a start, right?
CHLOE
Depends on where we go.
RACHEL
The corners of the world our mere
prologue, Chloe.
Chloe smiles.
RACHEL (CONT'D)
After the Tempest, a few years ago, you told me
you wanted New York City.
Broadway. The flashing lights, the pizza.
CHLOE
As far from Arcadia as possible...
RACHEL
Right. So let's leave.
CHLOE
We'll need more money. Rent in New
York is...
RACHEL
Why don't you borrow some from
Frank?
CHLOE
Seriously? Like that'd work.
RACHEL
It will.
CHLOE
Yeah, if you do it.
Rachel frowns.
RACHEL
I don't want to see him.
CHLOE
I understand, but... I don't know.
RACHEL
Please, Chloe. For me. For us.
CHLOE
Okay. All right. I'll try.
Rachel kisses Chloe on the cheek.
RACHEL
Then we leave tomorrow night.
CHLOE
Tomorrow night.
Chloe lies back, head rests on the couch's arm.
Rachel lies with her, head on Chloe's chest.
They fall asleep in each other's arms.
END ACT THREE
.
ACT FOUR
INT. JUNKYARD SHACK - MORNING
Bright sunlight peaks through the boarded up windows.
Chloe yawns, stretches out her arms. Rachel's still wrapped around her.
Chloe tries to carefully get out of bed, but can't. Rachel wakes up.
RACHEL
Can't you let a girl get some
sleep?
CHLOE
Shut up.
They both get off the couch. Rachel grabs the duffel bag and opens it up, takes an outfit out for herself.
RACHEL
I packed you one.
CHLOE
Thanks.
Chloe strips from yesterday's clothes and gets re-dressed.
Chloe doesn't look quite as punk.
Rachel doesn't, but watches.
CHLOE (CONT'D)
Not quite my style.
RACHEL
It's the thought that counts. Plus, you look hot in my clothes.
CHLOE
Is that, like, a dominance thing?
RACHEL
Now it's your turn to shut up.
CHLOE
So, what's the plan?
RACHEL
Don't act like you forgot about
Frank, Chloe.
CHLOE
I'll set a meeting with Frank and
try to borrow some cash.
RACHEL
And I'll head home. Pack up as much shit as I can.
Chloe takes her phone out, navigates to Frank's contact.
CHLOE (TEXT)
yo frank
FRANK (TEXT)
What do you want?
CHLOE (TEXT)
business, frank. what else?
FRANK (TEXT)
I'm not holding right now. All out.
CHLOE (TEXT)
okay that's bullshit but i'm
talking about different business.
can we meet?
FRANK (TEXT)
I don't know, can we?
CHLOE (TEXT)
frank
FRANK (TEXT)
Fine. Meet me at the beach.
Chloe puts her phone away and looks up. Rachel's already dressed.
CHLOE
Glad you let me enjoy the show.
RACHEL
Not my fault you were too busy on
the phone, Chloe. So?
CHLOE
What?
RACHEL
Frank?
CHLOE
Oh, yeah. He agreed.
RACHEL
To give us money? Over text?
CHLOE
No, just to meet. Didn't fill him
in on why. Yet.
RACHEL
I hope you know what you're doing.
I trust you.
CHLOE
Yeah. Let's get out of here.
Rachel puts their dirty clothes in the duffel bag and tosses it over her shoulder. They leave the shack.
EXT. JUNKYARD - MORNING
Chloe hops in the driver's seat, opens the passenger door for Rachel.
Rachel throws the bag into the truck, about to get in, until-
-Her phone BUZZES. She checks it.
MR. JEFFERSON (TEXT)
Where the fuck are you?
RACHEL (TEXT)
What?
MR. JEFFERSON (TEXT)
Nathan told you we're shooting
today. Remember?
RACHEL (TEXT)
I'm done doing your creepy
photoshoots, Jefferson. Find a new muse.
MR. JEFFERSON (TEXT)
Sorry, Rachel, but that's the wrong
answer. Meet me at Blackwell. Now.
Rachel puts her phone away.
RACHEL
(under breath)
Fuck.
CHLOE
What was that?
RACHEL
Nothing just... Blackwell shit.
CHLOE
Didn't you get suspended?
RACHEL
Wells set a meeting with me and my parents.
CHLOE
Fuck.
RACHEL
Yeah.
Beat.
CHLOE
Hop in, I'll drop you off.
RACHEL
No, it's fine. Can't keep Frank
waiting. You know how he is.
CHLOE
It's not a big deal.
RACHEL
Thanks but I'll get there on my
own, Chloe. I need to think about
what I'm going to say. Acting
things, you know?
CHLOE
Yeah, sure. I get it. Be careful, okay?
RACHEL
Always.
Rachel closes the door, watches as Chloe drives away.
RACHEL (CONT'D)
(under breath)
Fuck my life.
EXT. BEACH - ESTABLISHING - DAY
Vivid blue waves crash against pristine, pale yellow sand. A parking lot borders the beach a bit further from the ocean.
The lot is completely empty, minus a dingy, shady RV, table and chair out front. Tons of glass beer bottles litter the mobile home's "front lawn".
Far in the background, a giant lighthouse on its own peninsula barely out of focus. Ominously towers over the rest of Arcadia.
Chloe's pick-up parks next to the RV.
EXT. BEACH - SAME
Chloe hops out of her truck, lights a cigarette, and heads straight to Frank's.
She knocks on the door. Nothing.
CHLOE
Frank? It's Chloe.
She knocks a second time. Again, no answer.
CHLOE (CONT'D)
Jesus, do you have to do this every time?
She knocks yet again.
CHLOE (CONT'D)
(under breath)
For fucks sake.
She takes a step back.
FRANK (O.S.)
I heard that.
The door swings open.
FRANK BOWERS (32) steps outside. Disheveled, but kind of cool in a "doesn't shower but also doesn't care" kind of way.
His dog, Pompidou, jumps out with him. Runs to Chloe, tail wagging.
Chloe pets him.
CHLOE
Aw, who's a good boy? Pompidou is, yes he is.
FRANK
What the fuck do you want, Price?
CHLOE
Just checking in with my favorite dealer.
Pompidou runs back into the RV.
FRANK
Yeah. Sure.
CHLOE
So... how's it going?
FRANK
Great.
CHLOE
Cool. Good.
Beat.
CHLOE (CONT'D)
You gonna ask me how I am?
FRANK
No.
CHLOE
I thought we were friends, man.
FRANK
Price.
CHLOE
What?
FRANK
Why are you here?
CHLOE
Oh yeah. I need to borrow some cash.
Frank starts to get back in the RV, until-
CHLOE (CONT'D)
Please. You know I'm good for it.
FRANK
Actually, I don't think I do.
CHLOE
Can I borrow some or not?
He faces Chloe again.
FRANK
Do I look like a fucking bank?
CHLOE
No, you look like a fucking drug dealer.
FRANK
How much are we talking?
CHLOE
Three grand.
FRANK
Oh, just three grand? That's it?
CHLOE
Seriously. I need it.
FRANK
What for?
CHLOE
None of your business.
FRANK
It's my money, it's my business.
CHLOE
I got fired and I think my mom's
kicking me out. Need some cash to
get back on my feet.
FRANK
(chuckling)
You had a job?
CHLOE
Yup. Hourly pay and everything.
FRANK
You really need this?
CHLOE
Yeah. I'll pay you back.
Frank steps back into his RV. Chloe tries to follow him, but the door slams shut before she can get inside.
...
Frank finally steps back out. Chloe's annoyed.
CHLOE (CONT'D)
Took long enough.
Frank hands her $3,000 in cash.
CHLOE (CONT'D)
Thanks, Frank. This means a lot.
FRANK
It'll mean a whole lot more if you don't pay me back.
CHLOE
I will. Promise.
FRANK
Sixty days. With interest.
Chloe smiles.
Frank grabs her wrist, tightly.
FRANK (CONT'D)
Don't test me, Price.
He lets go, gets back in the RV. Slams the door.
Chloe practically skips with glee back to her pick-up.
EXT. BLACKWELL ACADEMY - DAY
Rachel walks up the outer steps, towards campus.
MR. MARK JEFFERSON (30s), Blackwell's good-looking, talented, successful, premier photography teacher admires his own work. Narcissist.
Rachel approaches.
RACHEL
Mark.
He turns around.
MR. JEFFERSON
Well, if it isn't the lovely Rachel
Amber. Took you long enough.
RACHEL
Whatever.
MR. JEFFERSON
I see Chloe Price's attitude is
rubbing off on you. What a shame.
You were so... unique.
RACHEL
Cut the shit. What do you want?
MR. JEFFERSON
Would it be too cliche to say that
I want you?
RACHEL
No. Just kinda gross.
MR. JEFFERSON
Don't act like you don't feel the same.
RACHEL
I did, at first.
MR. JEFFERSON
Doesn't everyone?
RACHEL
Sure. Until they learn about your
sick dark room.
MR. JEFFERSON
Speaking of, today's your shoot.
RACHEL
I'm not going.
MR. JEFFERSON
I'm sorry about last time, Rachel. The dosage
was a bit too high. I'll dial it back this time.
RACHEL
Bullshit. I almost fucking died, Mark.
MR. JEFFERSON
Nathan gets carried away with his
photography sometimes. I know the junkyard-
RACHEL
-It's not about the junkyard. It's about waking up
in a god damn ditch with Nathan holding a shovel.
MR. JEFFERSON
Like I said, he gets carried away sometimes.
RACHEL
Bullshit, again. He wasn't even there that
day. He just covered up your mess. You dosed me, and-
MR. JEFFERSON
-And what? You saw the pictures. They were artistic
perfection. My best work in years. Don't
act like you aren't proud.
RACHEL
Pathetic that your "best work" requires drugging
teenage girls and taking advantage of them.
MR. JEFFERSON
Watch your mouth, whore.
RACHEL
No, watch yours, Mark. David Madsen might
be a tool, but he's a tool with a surveillance fetish.
Mr. Jefferson quickly looks around campus. Spots a few cameras in as many seconds.
RACHEL (CONT'D)
I'm done working with you. Find a
new muse. Or die. Either way.
She walks away from Mr. Jefferson. Back towards the stairs.
Jefferson heads to the parking lot.
Rachel takes a few steps down, but... stops and looks back to Blackwell Academy.
RACHEL (CONT'D)
(under breath)
Might be the last time I'm here.
She hurries across campus and enters Blackwell's main building.
INT. BLACKWELL ACADEMY - SAME
Rachel takes a short walk down the entrance hall, hangs a right into the front office.
INT. FRONT OFFICE
She steps up to the office counter.
A RECEPTIONIST (mid 20s) files papers behind it.
RACHEL
Excuse me?
The receptionist stirs, steps up to the counter.
RECEPTIONIST
Oh, Ms. Amber. How may I help you?
RACHEL
I'd like to speak with Principal
Wells, please.
RECEPTIONIST
Sorry, he's not accepting visitors right now.
RACHEL
Why not?
RECEPTIONIST
Ms. Amber, if this is about your
suspension-
RACHEL
Jesus, of course he told you.
RECEPTIONIST
I'm sorry, Rachel, but I can't let you back
there. Try again on Monday. Preferably
during school hours.
The receptionist smiles.
Rachel sighs.
RACHEL
Too bad. I'm going in there
whether you want me to or not.
RECEPTIONIST
Ms. Amber-
Rachel steps up to Wells' office door.
KNOCK, KNOCK, KNOCK!
INT. WELLS' OFFICE
Wells is caught off guard by the loud knocks, expensive bottle of scotch sitting on his desk in plain sight.
RACHEL (O.S.)
Principal Wells?
RECEPTIONIST (O.S.)
Ms. Amber, you need to leave.
WELLS
(under breath)
God damn it.
Wells grabs the bottle and quickly hides it.
He's about to hide the glass, but hesitates. Downs the last bit, and stashes it in a drawer.
Wells adjusts his tie and opens the door.
WELLS (CONT'D)
Ms. Amber, now really isn't a-
She storms in, stands in front of the seat opposite Wells' fancy chair.
WELLS (CONT'D)
-Good time. Fine.
He's about to sit down, but-
RACHEL
No need to sit, Principal Wells.
This'll only take a second.
WELLS
What is this about, Ms. Amber? The terms of your suspension are final.
RACHEL
Fuck you, fuck Blackwell, and fuck my suspension.
WELLS
Ms. Amber, I-
RACHEL
-No. I'm done with this bullshit
school, Wells. I'm done.
WELLS
This childish outburst really isn't helping
your case, Ms. Amber, and I recommend you
stop before I'm forced to take further action.
RACHEL
What are you gonna do? Suspend me
for another five days?
WELLS
At the very least. However, if you apologize-
RACHEL
-That's rich, Wells. You should be the one apologizing.
WELLS
Excuse me, but what exactly is that supposed to mean?
RACHEL
The play. One of the few things in this world that
makes me truly happy and you took it from
me, over what? Rumors you heard from Victoria?
WELLS
Now, Ms. Amber, I know things may
seem-
RACHEL
-Unfair? But let me guess, "Ms. Chase's situation requires sensitivity", right?
Save your political bullshit. Between you and my dad, I've had more than enough.
WELLS
I'm sorry you feel that way. But, like I said, your
consequences are final. I think you should leave.
RACHEL
What about your consequences, Wells?
WELLS
My consequences?
RACHEL
Your obvious alcoholism. Drinking
on the job. Must I go on?
WELLS
Those accusations are completely unfounded and utterly
disrespectful not only to me, but to this institution as well.
RACHEL
Ah, of course. It's okay when I'm accused of
something without proof, but not when you are?
Wells stands there, silent. She's right.
RACHEL (CONT'D)
But I do have proof, Wells. I could smell the
scotch on your breath from here.
Rachel walks towards the door. Stops and turns around, for a moment.
RACHEL (CONT'D)
Suspend me indefinitely. I'm not
coming back.
She leaves the office, door softly closes behind her.
Wells slowly takes a seat at his desk, still in shock.
He pops a mint in his mouth and opens Rachel's file.
END ACT FOUR
.
ACT FIVE
INT. CHLOE'S ROOM - EVENING
Chloe lies in bed, lit cigarette between fingers, ash tray resting on her stomach. Four cigarette butts in it.
She takes a drag of the cigarette and glances at the alarm clock. Clock reads: "7:30 PM".
CHLOE
Not even surprised.
She takes her phone out. Nothing from Rachel.
CHLOE (TEXT)
dude are we leaving some time this year?
RACHEL (TEXT)
Yeah. Sorry, things took a bit
longer than I thought. About to
start packing now.
CHLOE (TEXT)
cool see u in an hour
She puts her phone in her pocket, gets out of bed and grabs a suitcase and backpack from her closet.
She opens both, tosses them on her bed.
CHLOE (CONT'D)
What to bring, what to bring?
She opens her drawers, grabs as much clothes as she can carry. Messily dumps it all in the suitcase.
Opens a drawer, takes out an envelope and a journal. In the envelope, tons of concert tickets. In the journal, letters to Max she never sent.
She slips them in her backpack. Struggles to zip the suitcase, but manages after a bit of hard work.
CHLOE (CONT'D)
I think that's everything I need.
She pats down her pockets.
CHLOE (CONT'D)
Phone, wallet, keys, cigarettes...
All here.
She puts her dad's leather jacket on, and opens the window.
Drops the suitcase to the ground floor.
Tosses the backpack of her shoulder. About to head out the window, but hesitates.
Looks to the TV. Spots the Polaroid camera, hesitantly pulls her phone out. Navigates to a contact labeled "MAX".
CHLOE (TEXT)
just wanted to let u know that i'm leaving arcadia with
rachel tonight. i won't be here when u come back.
not like u will, or even respond. i don't know why i sent this
Chloe waits, for a moment. No response, like she expected. She puts the phone away, grabs the camera and sneaks out the window, closes it behind her.
INT./EXT. CHLOE'S PICK-UP/AMBER HOUSE - EVENING
Darkness overtakes Arcadia Bay. Sun sets below the trees.
Chloe sits alone in her pick-up, down the block from the Amber house. She watches the side window, intently.
Suddenly, three duffel bags fly out the window, one by one.
Then, Rachel struggles to rappel down the side, but she does.
CHLOE
(to herself)
Damn, Rachel. I'm impressed.
She grabs all of the duffel bags, heads to Chloe's pick-up.
Chloe rolls down the window as Rachel nears.
CHLOE (CONT'D)
Mom told me not to give rides to
strangers.
RACHEL
Lucky for me, you don't listen to
your mom.
CHLOE
You got that right. Need help with the bags?
RACHEL
I got 'em. Thanks, though.
CHLOE
Sure.
Rachel tosses the bags one by one into the truck's bed.
Opens the passenger door and hops in, shuts it behind her.
RACHEL
Can you believe it?
CHLOE
We're finally getting out of this
hick town.
RACHEL
Yeah. It almost feels like a
dream, doesn't it? Like it's not really happening?
Chloe pinches her.
RACHEL (CONT'D)
Um, ow.
CHLOE
Guess this is real.
Rachel pinches her back.
CHLOE (CONT'D)
(chuckling)
What the hell, dude?
RACHEL
Just making sure.
CHLOE
So, you ready to hit the open road?
RACHEL
Can we make one stop first?
CHLOE
Depends on-
She glances at Rachel's hands. An envelope, "FRANK" written on the front.
CHLOE (CONT'D)
-Oh. I thought you were done with him.
RACHEL
It's the right thing to do. He
needs to hear it from me.
CHLOE
Yeah, no. I get it. It's cool.
RACHEL
Would you tell me if it wasn't?
Chloe says nothing, drives off into the night.
EXT. BEACH - NIGHT
Rachel hops out of Chloe's pick up, envelope in hand.
Slowly walks towards Frank's RV.
CHLOE (O.S.)
Hurry up, Rachel.
RACHEL
Yeah.
She steps up to the door. Stands awkwardly for a moment.
RACHEL (CONT'D)
(under breath)
Sorry, Frank.
She slips the envelope under the door.
EXT. ARCADIA BAY CITY LIMITS - ESTABLISHING - NIGHT
Full moon in the dark black, rural sky. A ton of stars glimmer overhead.
Dense pine forests line the empty roads.
Cheesy sign on the shoulder reads:
"Another Great DAY in ARCADIA BAY. Thank you, come again!"
Chloe's pick-up pulls over next to it.
INT. CHLOE'S PICK-UP - SAME
The engine hums to a stop. Chloe shifts the car to park.
Indie music blasts through the low-quality speakers until Chloe reaches to the console and turns it down.
She looks to Rachel, worried.
Silence, for a moment.
Ominous all-seeing-eye with wings drawn on the wall behind them.
CHLOE
You okay?
RACHEL
Yeah.
CHLOE
You haven't said a
word since we left Frank's.
RACHEL
I've just been thinking.
CHLOE
About what?
RACHEL
Our new life together.
CHLOE
You're not just saying that, right? You're sure
you want this? Once we're past this sign-
RACHEL
-I'm hella ready, Chloe Price.
Rachel leans over the dash. Places her hand softly on Chloe's cheek, pulls her in for a short kiss.
After, they return to their regular spots.
CHLOE
No going back.
She smirks, puts the car in drive, steps on the gas.
EXT. ARCADIA BAY CITY LIMITS - SAME
The pick-up truck barrels down the highway, further and further past the city limits sign until it's out of view.
INT. DAVID'S GARAGE - NIGHT
Joyce kneels on the concrete ground, sweeps shattered glass into a dustpan.
David holds the shattered 'family' photo. He frowns.
INT. DARK ROOM - NIGHT
Mr. Jefferson stands at the desk, flips through a red binder labeled "RACHEL". Pictures of Rachel drugged out, tied up. Unsettling.
Nathan paces the room, phone to his ear. No answer.
He angrily throws the phone against the wall. It shatters.
Jefferson and Nathan exchange glances.
INT. RACHEL'S ROOM - NIGHT
James and Rose stand in Rachel's room. Wardrobe open, clothes missing. Flashlight with the galaxy dome missing, too.
Rose rests her head on James' shoulder.
INT. FRANK'S RV - NIGHT
Frank sits in his bed, Pompidou at his side. Rachel's letter in hand. Tears roll down his check as he reads.
He nervously strokes Pompidou's back.
INT. WELLS' OFFICE - NIGHT
Feet resting on the desk, Wells pours a glass of scotch.
Rachel's file still open on his desk. A blocky, red stamp at the bottom reads: "SUSPENDED INDEFINITELY".
Downs the glass of alcohol in one, long gulp.
INT. VICTORIA'S DORM - NIGHT
Victoria lies in bed, smile covering her face, Romeo and Juliet script in hand.
Romeo's dialogue highlighted in vibrant yellow.
INT. CHLOE'S PICK-UP - NIGHT
Rachel's head rests against the glass. Asleep.
Chloe still drives, highway only illuminated by her truck's headlights.
Music turned way down. Barely audible, but present.
Chloe's phone lies on the armrest console.
Suddenly, it BUZZES. Chloe doesn't notice.
CLOSE ON: CHLOE'S PHONE
On the screen, a text message appears:
MAX (TEXT)
I actually just got a full ride to Blackwell and I'm moving
back in August. I'm sorry I didn't tell you, or keep in contact.
At all. I wanted to, but... Just don't go, Chloe.
Please, I miss you.
BACK TO SCENE
The phone screen fades black.
Again, Chloe doesn't notice.
She yawns, looks to the sleeping Rachel, then back to the dark road.
She keeps driving. No going back.
THE END