12 First Draft

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Information about 12 First Draft
Spiritual

Published on July 26, 2009

Author: guestbab4e6

Source: slideshare.net

(Name of Project) by (Name of First Writer) (Based on, If Any) Revisions by (Names of Subsequent Writers, in Order of Work Performed) Current Revisions by (Current Writer, date) Name (of company, if applicable) Address Phone Number FADE IN: EXT. LEXINGTON AVE. - LATE AFTERNOON STEAM RISES like the city’s breath against the winter chill. Pedestrians hurry by on the crosswalk, their faces obscured by the curling mist. Slowly, as if born of the steam, one face emerges, piercing eyes framed by a gray hooded sweatshirt. WHITE MIKE, 18, walks past a construction site, trailing his too-long Brooks Brothers overcoat with an easy grace. SUPERIMPOSE - DECEMBER 27TH White Mike weaves between PEDESTRIANS on Lexington Ave., mothers with Citarella bags, yuppies clutching coffees, elderly women in mink. A young BUYER, 18, in Northface parka and iPod, steps from the lobby of a pre-war building and moves in lock-step with White Mike as the ritual begins. Buyer’s hand to puffy pocket - White Mike’s hand to Brooks Brothers pocket - palm to palm - the exchange is made. Choreographed urban economics, their figures split, White Mike disappearing into the crowd. We pick him up, cellular to his ear walking behind a WOMAN in a white mini-skirt and long cold legs, glancing over his shoulder as a Boomer, i.e., a tricked out Escalade, slows and turns the corner. The door opens... ...Gangstarr’s “Work” knocks us back as White Mike sits into a veil of smoke and TEENAGERS. A girl offers White Mike a burning joint. He shakes his head “No,” and the door closes, obscuring our view. The camera rises and glides over the black roof meeting White Mike as he emerges on the other side, one hand pocketing the cash, the other hailing a taxi which stops on cue. INT. TAXI - MOMENTS LATER - DUSK WHITE MIKE 129th and Lexington. White Mike checks his phone, pulls his hood back and looks out the window. A group of TEENS bearing HMV BAGS, GOOD GUYS bags etc., pile their bodies and belongings into a taxi. Moments later, we cross 96th Street into Harlem. The switch from yuppie storefronts to urban poverty is abrupt. 2. INT. HARLEM REC CENTER - SAME TIME In mid-air trajectory, NANA, 17, short, black, heads for a dunk. JERRY, 18, black, goatee, gets all ball and a shitload of body. Nana goes down hard, gets up slow. NANA Shit was flagrant bitch. Nana walks off the court muttering to himself. PLAYER 1 Nigga, get your ass back in the game. Jerry turns to the sidelines where HUNTER, 18, 6’ 2” of wiry beef, Vassar volleyball t-shirt and the sole white face in the gym stands a few feet away from ARTURO, 16, a small Puerto Rican clutching a basketball. JERRY Hunter. You’re rolling with us. Arturo watches the tall white kid join the game, then looks down at his own short legs. EXT. MADISON AVE. - SAME TIME - NIGHT Three pairs of JIMMY CHOO STILETTO KNEE HIGHS step in unison. SHELLY(O.S.) Were your parents shocked? SARAH (O.S.) My Dad’s crushed. But he’ll just have to survive without me this year. SARA LUDLOW, 17, blond hair. Blue eyes. High cheekbones. We want to reach out and touch her skin. Just to be sure, she removes her compact from her Louis Vuitton bag... SARA Dr. K says “I have to assert my independence if I plan to become self-actualized.” GABBY 17, voluptuous. SHELLY 17, Asian, rail thin. GABBY What does that mean? 3. SHELLY It means we’re going to be together for New Year’s. SARA It means we’re going to have the best New Year’s ever. The girls lock arms and walk on. EXT. UNDER THE BRIDGE 129TH AND LEXINGTON - SAME TIME A Taxi pulls away, leaving White Mike shrouded in darkness. He hugs his coat tight against the wind and looks up at the icicles that hang off the bridge. HEADLIGHTS approach, lighting the hundreds of urban stalactites like fireflies. A BMW X5 pulls over, passenger door opening like a black wing extended. White Mike moves toward it. INT. HARLEM REC CENTER - SAME TIME Hunter can’t dribble for shit but he’s got ups. He grabs a rebound and flares a full court pass to Jerry who does a reverse jam, gives praise to the sky and a slight nod to Hunter. Respect. EXT. CHINATOWN RESTAURANT - CANAL STREET - SAME TIME CLAUDE How much for the rabbit? CLAUDE, 18, menacing eyes, muscles defined from fanatical bench pressing, speaks to a CASHIER and points at the hanging rabbits behind the glass at this sidewalk Chinese takeout. A few feet away, standing near the VENDORS along Canal, TOBIAS, 17, beautiful, borderline effeminate which works wonders with the chicks, cracks up as Claude pays for the rabbit then comes toward him, holding it high in mock victory. TOBIAS Groovy. Dinner for the piranhas. Claude heads east along Canal, paper bagged rabbit in hand. Tobias hurries to catch-up. TOBIAS (CONT'D) City was a wasteland without you.-- Where’d you get this tree? It’s sick. 4. CLAUDE Present from the wilderness guide. TOBIAS No way. At Turnabout? CLAUDE Hike. Detox. Bond. Get a fucking Indian name. Sign the pledge. Get chronic. Go home. TOBIAS Claudius you are one true criminal. CLAUDE I’m outta here after New Year’s. TOBIAS No way. CLAUDE Anderson Military. TOBIAS Shit, you’ve been in more schools than my Mom’s had husbands. What is that now? Fifth in three years? Claude winces and looks toward Canal. His POV - A YELLOW TAXI - moving along Canal, the driver’s window open. In a flash Claude pulls the rabbit from the bag, reaches back and throws... ...Rabbit goes flying through the taxi window. Tobias’ eyes bug out as the taxi SWERVES into oncoming traffic heading directly for... INT. SEAN’S RED CUSTOM MINI COOPER - CONTINUOUS ...SEAN, 17, quarterback of the Poly Prep football team, nuff said, listening to U2 at maximum volume and SINGING at the top of his lungs... SEAN Sunday bloody Sunday- ...a Yellow taxi heading directly for his face. He swerves... 5. EXT. CANAL STREET - CONTINUOUS - ...Too late. Yellow taxi runs into red Mini Cooper which runs into green streetlight, bumper car style. The Mini Cooper crumbles. Sean’s arm is wrapped around the steering wheel, his screams masked by his HORN stuck on repeat. Driver jumps out of his taxi, fist raised toward Claude and Tobias... ...Who RUN wildly down the narrow streets wreaking havoc, passing an outdoor trinket shop, a hanging wind-up bird flaps its wings and glows red. EXT. MADISON AVE. - SAME TIME The girls are lit by the night displays in the passing boutiques. SARA You know who’s a bitch? SHELLY Who? SARA Layla. GABBY She thinks she’s so smart she never shuts up. SARA She’s in my English class. SHELLY Boberas’? SARA Yeah and she just says anything. Something about how everyone took the Holocaust so seriously or something. She made Jane Grey run out of the room crying. SHELLY Is Jane Jewish? GABBY I don’t think so. She used to be anorexic. They giggle as they come around the corner and see... 6. A TOWNHOUSE - Five floors lit up and glowing yellow. On the stoop, a tall figure in overcoat and hooded sweatshirt. Push in towards White Mike as we hear... EXT. CHRIS AND CLAUDE’S BROWNSTONE - CONTINUOUS ...”50 Cent” playing on the house stereo while a hundred dollars changes hands at the doorway. White Mike passes a clear cannister containing one green bud of Super Diesel to CHRIS, 17, pimples and bling in equal doses. CHRIS Wanna come in? Shit’s bumping. White Mike peers inside and sees a few WHITE KIDS dancing palms to the sky.... WHITE MIKE No thanks. He descends the steps passing the girls, his penetrating eyes quieting Sara in mid-sentence. INT. HARLEM REC CENTER - SAME TIME A PLAYER lofts an NBA three pointer. SWISH. Nana grabs it before it hits the ground. He glares at Hunter. NANA I’m playing. Hunter’s not sure what to do. PLAYER 2 You gave it up Nana. You got next. ARTURO No I got next. EVERYONE BUT HUNTER Shut up Arturo. NANA (to Hunter) I said give me my fuckin spot back. JERRY Nana get off the court. Hunter’s my nigga. HUNTER Nah, it’s alright. 7. JERRY Yo man don’t let him do you like that. Nana moves fast and gets up in Hunter’s face. NANA What the fuck you slummin for bitch? HUNTER Easy man. ARTURO Oh shit. Nigga's gonna fight. Nana pushes Hunter back. NANA Take your white ass back downtown bitch. HUNTER Come on man. Nana shoves Hunter hard into the wall. Hunter unloads, a single punch, breaking Nana’s nose. Nana looks down at the blood flowing on his shirt. ARTURO Shit. Nana kicks Hunter in the balls. They go down in a pile of fists and feet and blood. EXT. 5TH AVE. - SAME TIME White Mike walks along the edge of the Park, dwarfed by the Pre-Wars, white fortresses against a black sky. He watches as a WOMAN IN BLACK nods at DOORMAN 1 who opens the inner door moments before DOORMAN 2 opens the outer door followed by DOORMAN 3 who holds open a Taxi Door--which promptly pulls away leaving three Doormen in perfect symmetry with no doors to open. White Mike walks on. INT. CHRIS AND CLAUDE’S TOWNHOUSE - SITTING ROOM - SAME TIME Sara, in Dolce and Gabbana miniskirt and pink Tuleh logo cashmere tee stands among the PARTIERS, gazing up a soulless PORTRAIT of Chris, Claude and their parents. She spots Chris by the fireplace and makes a beeline through the dancers. 8. SARA Is this your house? Chris’ tongue is in his throat. CHRIS You’re Sara Ludlow. SARA (fake) How’d you know? CHRIS Everyone knows who you are. SARA Everyone knows everyone. Give me a tour Chris. Sara puts her arm out debutante-style and Chris takes the bait as Jay-Z’s “Money Ain’t a Thing” kicks in. THE TOUR - We glide in Sara’s POV up the stairs, passing tapestries made by Dead Monks in Normandy, live bodies lying against Ming vases, a GIRL pressing a cell phone to each ear, abandoned bottles of Heinekin, mini-DVD players, and impressionist paintings that frame long legs dangling Prada shoes over the edge of the mezzanine... SARA (cont’d) How long has your family had this place? CHRIS My mom says, “this house has history.” I guess the Rothschilds owned it in the early 1900’s and they sold it to a famous stock trader who supposedly blew his brains out in the library when- SARA (cutting him off) How many bedrooms? Rising levels, they pass little CLUSTERS OF KIDS scattered about, their mass is swallowed by the expanse of the mansion. Everyone they pass checks Sara out. 9. CHRIS Seven--Then my great grandfather Claudius Kenton got it. He was supposedly a real player- SARA Kitchens? CHRIS Two. SARA Keep going. CHRIS Then my grandfather, he had land out the yin yang. He passed it on to my dad- SARA Then you’ll get it? CHRIS I guess and my bro Claude- SARA And then our children. Chris looks at Sara. Is she serious? They reach the 4th Floor Landing, Coldplay’s “A Rush of Blood to the Head“ echoes down the hallway as... SARA (cont’d) How big is the staff Chris? ...The Camera moves off the duo and tracks through a room where ten KIDS lounge on couches watching 75” Plasma pornography. KID IN SUNGLASSES rests one hand on the exposed left breast of GIRL IN BLACK PARTY DRESS, absentmindedly fingering her mother’s pearls... ...KID in PLAID TIE talks to a KID IN CORONA CAP holding a supersized bottle of Wolfschmidz Vodka aloft like the liberty torch. KID IN PLAID TIE Kill the artists and somnambulate the masses with vapid pop. It’s a conspiracy man. We lost Cobain, Hendrix, Elliot Smith and got Nelly, Blink 182 and Britney. Murder dressed up as suicide man. 10. KID IN PLAID TIE(cont'd) The FBI, CIA. MTV. They’re all in on it... Corona Cap nods thoughtfully as the camera tracks out the far door where Chris continues giving Sara the tour... SARA You should have invited more people. ...In the hallway Chris opens a door revealing two bodies making out, silhouetted against an enormous NEON BLUE FISH TANK. We leave Sara and Chris behind and move in toward... INT. PIRANHA ROOM - CONTINUOUS ...the entwined couple, camera holding directly above the girl, JESSICA, 16, fearless eyes, athletic body. In one swift move she flips the boy over, sitting astride his chest, leaving us staring down at... CHARLIE, 18, handsome. Wild eyes that have lived beyond their years. JESSICA You think my thighs are too big? Charlie feels one of them, impressed. Shakes his head no. JESSICA (cont’d) Two hundred meter breast stroke 1.25 split. Charlie’s cell RINGS to the tune of “Beethoven’s 5th.” Jessica jumps up to look at the fish. CHARLIE Yo Lionel, I’ve been waiting on your call--Pardon me.--Just chill-- I haven’t been avoiding you, I’ve had commitments with--stuff.--See you there. Charlie clicks off with a sigh. CHARLIE (cont’d) Wanna go to JFK, fly to the Keys and freak everyone out by disappearing? JESSICA You’re wasted. 11. CHARLIE I’m serious. My parents have this sailboat but they’re in Madagascar or something so we could just vanish. You sail, don’t you? JESSICA Yes, but I can’t go. Charlie turns pure innocence. CHARLIE Why not? JESSCIA I’ve got yearbook and prom committee, I edit the Dalton Experience, I tutor kids in Harlem and I’ve got lunch with my mom this Sunday. CHARLIE I see.--Well then I gotta bounce. He holds up a small baggie of white powder. CHARLIE (cont’d) A gift. Only do it in small doses. Shit’s powerful. He hands it to her. JESSICA Thanks. What’s your name? CHARLIE Charlie. What’s yours? EXT. YORK AVE. - NIGHT White Mike watches a group of KIDS, white, 10-12, a rainbow of North Face Parkas, smoking cigarettes and huddling around a GARBAGE CAN ON FIRE. White Mike’s cell RINGS. CALLER ID - Charlie INT. TAXI LEXINGTON AVE. - SAME TIME The wind blows Charlie’s hair as he rides uptown. CHARLIE Pick up man. Come on Mike. Pick up. 12. EXT. YORK - SAME TIME White Mike pockets the phone. The kids stoke the fire with newspaper. INT. TAXI ON LEXINGTON - SAME TIME CHARLIE (into phone) I know you’ve got no patience for this but shit is happening, cousin. Monstrous, bewildering shit and I need to see you. So call me back fast aright? (beat) Hey Mike, I saw the Pop Gun Man in the park today. Charlie pulls a PEARL-HANDLED GUN from his pocket. DRIVER My friend, can you put the window up? It’s too cold. Charlie pockets the gun and leaves the window down. INT. BATHROOM CHRIS AND CLAUDE’S TOWNHOUSE - SAME TIME Jessica checks her behind in the mirror, satisfied with the way her low rider jeans expose her Calvin Klein underwear. DJ Dangermouse sampling the “Gettysburg Address” plays over the house speakers. HOUSE DUB (O.S.) That from these honored dead we take increased devotion to the cause-- She rolls up a fifty, leans over the marble countertop where the contents of Charlie’s gift is arranged in one long white line. She snorts the powder, her eyes opening wide.... HOUSE DUB (cont’d) To that cause for which they gave the last full measure of devotion-- She stares at the faucet. It sparkles and looms large. She sits back on the toilet and begins to say the words along with the dub. 13. JESSICA That we here highly resolve that these dead shall not have died in vain vain vain-- A drop of water hangs miraculously off the faucet’s edge. JESSICA (cont’d) But in a larger sense, we cannot dedicate-- The door handle glistens. JESSICA (cont’d) We cannot consecrate-- The tiles on the floor are spectacular triangles. JESSICA (cont’d) We cannot hallow this ground. Jessica falls face first, passing out, frozen euphoric grin toward camera. EXT. PAPAYA KING 86TH AND 3RD - SAME TIME Hunter emerges from a taxi, taking the receipt from the driver. He faces White Mike who waits in the neon glow of the Papaya King. WHITE MIKE Huntergatherer, you’ve been fucking up again. HUNTER This is true Consigliore. WHITE MIKE Let’s see the damage. White Mike checks out the cut on Hunter’s face. Hunter opens his coat, blood on his t-shirt etc. WHITE MIKE (cont’d) You forgot your Henry Clay? HUNTER Negotiation was not an option. WHITE MIKE Didn’t work so well in the Civil War either. 14. EXT. HARLEM - JEFFERSON HOUSING PROJECTS - NIGHT Nana carries his basketball, passing a sign- “WELCOME TO JEFFERSON HOUSING.” Hearing VOICES, he peers around the corner where... ...Charlie, in blue puffy Northface, faces LIONEL, 28, dangerously confident, wearing a long leather overcoat. They stand under the yellow streetlight between the jungle gym and the snow-covered monkey bars. LIONEL Gimme the money man. Charlie fumbles nervously in his pockets. LIONEL (cont’d) You better have brought that shit, you little white junkie ass. CHARLIE Okay. You don’t have to insult me man. I’ve got your money-- Charlie pulls out the PEARL HANDLED REVOLVER, aiming it at Lionel’s gut. CHARLIE (cont’d) Just hand over the shit Lionel. LIONEL You better be ready to kill me nigga cuz if you don’t, I’ll find your ass and kill you twice. Charlie’s hands, yellow in the streetlight, shake badly. CHARLIE Don’t worry man. You’re never gonna find me. Just give me the shit and I’m ghost. LIONEL Just hold the piece down. I got what you want. Lionel reaches into deep pockets, removing baggies filled with white powder. Charlie takes, lowering his gun... ...Lionel seizes the moment, throwing snow from the monkey bars into Charlie’s face and pulling his own LASER NINE MILLI, focusing a red light that captures desperate fear in Charlie’s eyes a moment before the gun EXPLODES... 15. ...IN SLOW MOTION, Charlie’s body flies back, blood pouring, mixing with the feathers spilling out of his parka, floating through the air. The sound of a BASKETBALL BOUNCING ON CONCRETE breaks us from the trance--PAN to the frightened boy who dropped the ball. Nana RUNS... ...three steps and Lionel tackles him. The red laser light finds Nana’s eyes begging Lionel not to do what Lionel does. Cut to Black: The SHOT REVERBERATES... EXT. MOLLY’S HIGH-RISE LEXINGTON AVE. - SAME TIME Come up on a RED FLYING INDEX CARD AIRPLANE lit by the white Xmas lights above the street. Leaning her head out from her 32nd Floor Apartment is MOLLY, 17, the kind of eyes that look at you and make you ashamed of your cynicism. She watches disappointed as her creation dives and crashes just outside her apartment building. EXT. LEXINGTON AVE. - SAME TIME Hunter and White Mike walk down Lex sipping Papayas. WHITE MIKE 7T23, 8J78, and 3M12. HUNTER How do I know you’re not making them up? WHITE MIKE You don’t. Your last taxi was 6Y43. Hunter reaches for the receipt from the Taxi he rode to the Papaya King. CLOSE ON - #6Y43. Hunter smiles. They walk in silence, then... HUNTER My father says if I don’t get into Harvard, I have to go to Dartmouth. WHITE MIKE Well shit-- Pointing to a deli on the corner... WHITE MIKE (cont’d) Daddy. Isn’t that the McCullough School of Physics? Hunter points to Orsay’s Restaurant, red sign lit up... 16. HUNTER And on your left, son, McCullough Dormitories. White Mike points straight ahead where an NYPD police car crosses 73rd... WHITE MIKE Directly ahead of you, Hunter’s fucked if he goes to Dartmouth. HUNTER Thus, Hunter sent Harvard the finest application essay in collegiate history. WHITE MIKE No doubt. HUNTER You should apply Mike. With your grades they might even overlook your entrepreneurial skills in street economics. White Mike shrugs. HUNTER (cont’d) We’d be the same year. White Mike’s cell RINGS. WHITE MIKE Be there in ten. (he clicks off) ‘Tis the season. Hunter looks White Mike straight in the eye. HUNTER In the sage words of Headmaster Wenchler “potential wasted is a crime that will go punished.” WHITE MIKE Good luck at Dartmouth. HUNTER Ouch. WHITE MIKE Try not to kick any ass on the way home. 17. Hunter watches White Mike take a few steps then... HUNTER Seen Charlie lately? This is a bad subject. White Mike shakes his head. HUNTER (cont’d) He’s in the city. Called me. Said he finished that skateboarding film he’s been making forever. Wanted me to see it but I think what he really wanted was cash. WHITE MIKE I’ll see you Hunter. Hunter watches White Mike go. INT. CHINATOWN TRINKET SHOP - SAME TIME Claude’s hand taps on the glass, pointing to a knife. The PROPRIETOR, a small middle-aged Asian Woman, tired eyes, reaches for an especially long knife... PROPRIETOR Look. A butterfly. She spins her wrist and a metallic SWISH foreshadows the blades opening out like a butterfly. Light bounces off the blades and across Claude’s eyes. CLAUDE Beautiful. Well done. Tobias watches as Claude points to another. The Proprietor puts her hands up, the universal “demonstration over” signal. TOBIAS Claudius, let’s move on. Claude spreads his ostrich-skin wallet wide - Countless hundreds. Impressed, the Proprietor reaches underneath the counter. TOBIAS (cont’d) I’m bored with Wingwangtown. Come on. We’ll catch a midnight movie in the Village. 18. CLAUDE Tobias, you’re being rude to this nice woman. The demonstration begins. A symphony of Weapons: NUNKCHAKUS AND THROWING STARS - Which she retrieves from inside a box of Chinese dolls. A BOLA WITH BRASS ORBS - She clacks the brass together then holds the sphere against Claude’s cheek. He smiles. A DOUBLE-EDGED SWORD - She carefully pulls off the cloth and demonstrates. Claude applauds. Tobias watches his friend. EXT. HUNTER’S APARTMENT - SAME TIME Hunter’s doorman, SAMUEL, 40’s, picks up Molly’s airplane from the sidewalk then steps over to the trashcan, adding it to a growing pile of index card airplanes. Hunter passes on the way in, nodding at Samuel. EXT. HARLEM - JEFFERSON PROJECTS PLAYGROUND - NIGHT Crime scene, flashing police lights. DETECTIVE DUMONT, black, jaded, 40’s, examines an OHIO ID - repeating Buckeye Hologram, bearing CHARLIE’S PHOTO... DETECTIVE DUMONT (sarcastic) This one’s from Ohio. DETECTIVE KAMINSKI, 20’s, white, on the verge of jaded... DETECTIVE KAMINSKI This one’s from Oregon. DETECTIVE DUMONT Great. OFFICER, female, 20’s, approaches, passes a basketball to Dumont. OFFICER Looks like we found the black kid’s mom. Says her boy was playing ball at the Rec Center on 127th. NANA’s MOTHER, 30’s, hysterical, is held by TWO OFFICERS. 19. NANA’S MOTHER No, my baby, not my baby, not my Nana, NAAANNAAA, Oh lord, not my boy. She looks Dumont dead in the eye with a sudden calm. NANA’S MOTHER (cont’d) Why my Nana, why my boy, WHY? Detective Dumont wishes he had the answer. INT. TAXI PARK AVE. - SAME TIME White Mike listens to Charlie’s message as he rides. CHARLIE (V.O.) So call me back fast aright?--Hey Mike, I saw the Pop Gun Man in the park today. White Mike clicks off and hits #1 on speed dial. INT. LIONEL’S BLACK BMW X5 - SAME TIME The Black BMW that pulled up for White Mike under the icicle bridge. Lionel drives, “Beethoven’s 5th” competing with Coltrane’s “Ascension.” Lionel opens the glove box revealing Charlie’s ringing phone and pearl-handled pistol. Lionel turns the phone off, closes the glove box and kicks up the Coltrane. EXT. PARK AVE. - PRESENT TIME White Mike stands on the corner watching the taxi pull away. WHITE MIKE Charlie. It’s your cousin. Hit me back. EXTREME CLOSEUP - WHITE MIKE’S EYES - the reflection of the Taxi # - 3X79. INT. LIBRARY CHRIS AND CLAUDE’S TOWNHOUSE - SAME TIME Sara sits with Chris and a group of stoned KIDS, bearing identical been-seen-done-everything-now-what faces, on a deep leather couch, beneath a thirty foot wall of books. They pass a joint. BOLBOCK, 17, trying for Jack Osborne look. 20. BOLBOCK You misunderstand me. I’m not saying we don’t feel these connections. What I’m saying is we mistake them for what they are, momentary chemical reactions. CHRIS What about people who meet and immediately know they were meant to be together? Chris puts his hand on Sara’s arm. She lets him. GIRL 1 I know I have a soul mate. GIRL 2 You’re all full of shit. All this crap, this intellectualizing about connection is something we can do because we’re PRIVILEGED. The real world doesn’t have time for existential crisis. BOLBOCK Spoken like a girl with a lifetime charge account at Bergdorfs. She blows Bolbock a kiss, follows it up with the finger. BOY 2 He’s crude but he’s right. We create these connections to protect us from the painful truth.--We’re like islands close enough to see but too far to apart to touch. GIRL 3 It’s so tragic. STONED KID IN BASEBALL CAP I’m an island that’s gonna inherit an island in the South Pacific. Laughter. GIRL IN BLACK PARTY DRESS Hey Sara, aren’t you supposed to be in St. Barths? Sara ignores her, whispering in Chris’ ear. 21. SARA There’s one room I haven’t seen. Chris smiles. INT. HUNTER’S APARTMENT - SAME TIME Track with Hunter as he walks through his hallway, heavy deep wood tones. Old Money. Passing the library where his father sits facing away from us before a CRACKLING FIRE... HUNTER’S FATHER Hunter. Bring me a glass, I’ll pour you a scotch. HUNTER’s FATHER, 55, 6’ 4”, exudes power, guttural voice, pours his son a Dewar’s. BACH’S FUGUE IN D MINOR “The Little” plays low on the stereo. HUNTER I’m kind of tired, Dad. Hunter sits in the semi-darkness. HUNTER’S FATHER The Linds are having their small gathering on New Year’s Eve. HUNTER Dad, I’ve got plans. HUNTER’S FATHER You’ll have ample time to drink with your friends, Hunter. One of us has always been there, and your mother and I will be out of the country... HUNTER Dad- HUNTER’S FATHER ...And wear the suit we got you for Christmas, Hunter. Hunter averts his eyes. The fire CRACKLES. INT. CHRIS’ BEDROOM - SAME TIME Posters of Biggie, Wu-Tang on the walls, DMX’s “Where’s the Hood At” on the flat screen. Chris dims the lights, sits on the bed. Sara chooses the Herman Miller swivel. 22. SARA Your parents are away for a few more days right? CHRIS Until the 2nd. SARA We should throw a party. CHRIS This is a party. SARA I mean a real party. A New Year’s Party. CHRIS I’m not sure it’s such a great idea. Sara gets up and sits down close to Chris on the bed. SARA Are you kidding? It’s an inspiration. I could get everyone to come. Everyone that matters. CHRIS I don’t think so. Sara leans over, kisses Chris, quickly pulling away. CHRIS (cont’d) I should really ask my bro Claude. He’s sort of a freak about stuff like this. Sara kisses him deeply, tongue in his mouth. Chris shakes. SARA Little Chrissie doesn’t need permission does he? CHRIS I--I-- Hand moving up his leg... CHRIS (cont’d) --don’t want it to be too big. Unsnapping a button on his Diesels... 23. SARA Don’t you want to have a big party? She straddles him, going in for the kill... SARA (cont’d) The biggest party ever.--A legendary party. Page 6, W. The kind of party people lie and say they went to. Chris speaks but no sound emerges. SARA (cont’d) Is that a yes? Chris nods. He reaches out to pull her to the bed but ends up kissing the covers. Sara stands over him. EXT. PARK AVE. - CENTER ISLAND - SAME TIME - INTERCUT White Mike walks in between the lighted trees along the center Island on Park Ave. He talks into his cell. WHITE MIKE Cut into the flaps? INT. MOLLY’S APARTMENT - SAME TIME - INTERCUT Molly in bed, landline to her ear. MOLLY And paperclipped the nose and threw into the wind. WHITE MIKE Imperfect science. All we can do is try to emulate the birds... Molly lies on her back, her black eyes catch the light. WHITE MIKE (cont’d) ...One of these times, you’ll catch an updraft in the Lexington canyon. MOLLY Come down to Coney Island with me this weekend? I was thinking of taking some photos of the transvestite hookers. 24. He lies. WHITE MIKE New Year’s weekend. Restaurant’ll be mobbed. My dad’s starting to rely on me. MOLLY So you’re glad you took the year off to learn the business? INT. HUNTER’S APARTMENT - HALLWAY - SAME TIME Hunter walks through the Hallway, pausing in the foyer. Taped to the wall - MCCULLOUGH ITINERARY - Air France to Paris, Shuttle to Chamonix. Beulerat Chateau. We push in on the words... INT. HUNTER’S ELEVATOR - MOMENTS LATER Hunter rides the elevator. He looks up at the ceiling and gives the finger to the in-house camera. EXT. 73RD STREET - MOMENTS LATER Hunter walks along beneath Christmas lights that decorate the street. INT. TAXI JESSICA AND CHRIS - LATER - NIGHT Chris and Jessica, Red Bull in her hands, ride in the back of a taxi. JESSICA I always hated those pussies who act all wasted. Now I’m one of them. CHRIS Still high? Jessica shakes her head, sips from the Red Bull. JESSICA (cont’d) All I remember is this feeling. It was like--total clarity.--I could write the most amazing application to Wesleyan on this stuff. CHRIS Maybe you shouldn’t do it again. 25. JESSICA Chris, you gotta promise not to tell anyone. CHRIS Don’t worry, I won’t ruin Jessica Brayson’s immaculate rep. Taxi pulls up outside a Pre-War on Park Ave. Jessica puts a twenty through the glass. JESSICA Keep that for the round trip. Driver nods. Jessica kisses Chris on the cheek. JESSICA (cont’d) Thanks for taking me home Chris. And--thanks for not trying to fuck me or anything when you found me passed out. You’re a good friend. EXT. PARK AVE. - DAWN White Mike walks along a mostly deserted Park Ave. In the distance, a lone DOORMAN salts the sidewalk. White Mike raises his arm to hail a taxi. INT. TAXI ON PARK AVE. - DAWN The TAXI DRIVER, Pakistani, talks on the cell. White Mike looks at the PHOTO OF THE DRIVER’S FAMILY above the meter then out the window... THE CENTER ISLAND ALONG PARK AVE. - white lights line the trees... YOUNG WHITE MIKE (O.S.) Don’t leave, tell me a story. ...become jagged constellations reflected in White Mike’s eyes... WHITE MIKE’S MOTHER (0.S) I’ll tell you a story that has no ending. INT. YOUNG WHITE MIKE’S BEDROOM - 7 YEARS EARLIER - NIGHT YOUNG WHITE MIKE 11, gazes up at WHITE MIKE’S MOTHER, 34, her head balding from chemotherapy, her deep blue eyes a genetic match for her son’s, sits at the edge of his bed. 26. WHITE MIKE’S MOTHER If a butterfly died over a field in Brazil and fell to the ground and caused a tiny blade of grass to bend which caused a mouse to move which caused an antelope to start which caused the birds to shout which caused the trees to shake which caused the rain to fall then everything might change even all the way around the world, even all the way here. She playfully touches his nose. WHITE MIKE’S MOTHER (cont’d) Did a butterfly do that? She turns off the light. He waits until she’s by the door silhouetted against the blue light. YOUNG WHITE MIKE Did the butterfly die? INT. TAXI - PRESENT TIME - DAWN White Mike speaks to the driver. WHITE MIKE Busy tonight? TAXI DRIVER Too cold. WHITE MIKE You prefer the night shift? TAXI DRIVER My brother. He’s got wife and kids. Drives day. Silence then... TAXI DRIVER (cont’d) You come home from party? WHITE MIKES Work. OUTSIDE THE TAXI - We hold as the taxi moves away from us, heading north along Park Ave. 27. TAXI DRIVER What do you do? WHITE MIKE Deliveries. TAXI DRIVER At night? WHITE MIKE Anytime. ...The camera rises. A RED SKY over the city announces dawn and the WHITE LIGHTS on the trees lining the avenue TURN OFF. SUPERIMPOSE : DECEMBER 28TH EXT. HUNTER’S APARTMENT - DAWN - DAY 2 Hunter, coffee in hand, still in last night’s clothes, passes his doorman Samuel, and enters his lobby where Detectives Dumont and Kaminski stand waiting. KAMINSKI Hunter McCullogh. HUNTER (wary) Yeah. Kaminski flashes a BADGE. KAMINSKI This is Detective Dumont. I’m Kaminski. Mind if we ask you a few questions? Dumont doesn’t wait for an answer. DUMONT What’s that on your sneakers? Hunter looks down at the dried blood on his KG’s. Before he knows what's happening, Kaminski and Dumont grab his arms- HUNTER What the fuck? CLICK - A PAIR OF HANDCUFFS - on Hunter’s wrists. KAMINSKI You’re under arrest. 28. HUNTER For what? DUMONT For the murder of two teenagers in Harlem. HUNTER WHAT--I got--in--a fight--WHAT-- The cops pull him toward their car. Hunter shouts to a receding Samuel... HUNTER (cont’d) SAMUEL--call my parents. SAMUEL A car took them to JFK hours ago. BACH’S FUGUE IN D MINOR, “The Little,” heard previously on Hunter’s father’s stereo comes up as Dumont and Kaminski place Hunter in the backseat and shut the door. INT. UNMARKED POLICE CAR - MINUTES LATER The car pulls away. Hunter looks out the window at the pristine foyers and doormen at blue attention. For a moment, we wonder if that’s the hint of a smile on his face. EXT. REFRESHMENT AREA - WOHLMAN ICE SKATING RINK CENTRAL PARK - DAY ANDREW, 16 black, a chocolate covered raisin in a bowl of milk stands in the refreshment area checking out the HOLIDAY CROWD of skaters a few yards away. He talks into his cell. Queen Latifah on the tinny speakers. ANDREW Hunter you flaked.--I’ll be the black guy on the ice in case you can’t find me. Three girls trailing matching CANDY CANE SCARVES glide by. Jessica skates with tired eyes in-between her friends LAYLA 16, intense, and CLAIRE, 16 bookish. We glide along... ON THE ICE - LAYLA How about “Yesterday’s Tomorrow?” 29. CLAIRE Please move to Queens. “Simply unforgettable? The words shoot past Jessica’s eyes from either direction. CLAIRE “Shades of Perfection.” LAYLA “Mad About Plaid.” CLAIRE “Becoming.” LAYLA “Recorded Live.” CLAIRE “Then and Wow.” LAYLA “Lasting Impressions.” CLAIRE (cont’d) “In the blink of an eye.” LAYLA I’ve got it.--The title of the 2005 Dalton Yearbook is “Connected to the Past-Unleashed into the Future.” CLAIRE I like it. LAYLA Jessica? No answer. CLAIRE President of the yearbook staff. Hello? Jessica digs her skates into the ice, stopping quickly. Her friends follow suit. JESSICA You guys go ahead. I’m sure you’ll pick the right one. Jessica skates off. CLAIRE What? LAYLA What? U2’s “New Year’s Day” comes on over the rink speakers as Jessica begins to weave recklessly between the holiday skaters, drunk on the speed. We HOLD ON HER FACE, the picture of youth and vitality but in her eyes... 30. ...Just ahead Andrew reaches to unclip his RINGING CELL. Bad move. He goes down hard. Jessica swerves. TOO LATE. Her skates cut his forehead. He SCREAMS, clutching his head. Blood swirls on the ice. Jessica drops down fast... JESSICA (cont’d) Fuck. I’m so sorry. U2’s music fills Jessica’s head... RINK SPEAKERS (V.O.) Everything changes on New Year’s Day-- Jessica stares transfixed at the PUDDLE OF RED spreading on the white ice. INT. WHITE MIKE’S BEDROOM - SAME TIME White Mike uses an old fashioned silver scale to weigh green buds, the only sign of color or life in the room. He reaches for a pair of BINOCULARS that lie next to an INDEX CARD AIRPLANE. POV THROUGH THE BINOCULARS - THE HIGH RISE ACROSS THE WAY THE JOYCE’S - A red-headed MOTHER AND FATHER, and their equally red-headed, SON, 11, and DAUGHTER, 13, having breakfast. White Mike watches as Mrs. Joyce pours orange juice for her family. The son appears to glance over at White Mike. A KNOCK at the door. WHITE MIKE One sec. White Mike puts the binoculars down and quickly hides the weed. WHITE MIKE’S Father, 50, dark complexion, bearing no resemblance to his pale son, pokes his head in. WHITE MIKE’S FATHER Lunch at the restaurant today stranger? WHITE MIKE Sure. His dad starts to leave then turns back. 31. WHITE MIKE’S FATHER And Mike. Binoculars are for watching birds not chicks. DUMONT (0.S) What's the name of the white kid you killed? INT. INTERROGATION ROOM - PRECINCT 122 - SAME TIME Hunter sits in the spare fluorescent-lit room. Kaminski sits across from him. Dumont watches. HUNTER I didn’t kill anyone. DUMONT Forensic’s got your blood all over the merry go round Hunter. Why don’t just give it up and confess now? Hunter smiles. He seems to be enjoying this. HUNTER That hardly proves your case. I already told you we fought at the rec. KAMINSKI Where are your parents Hunter? HUNTER I don’t know. On holiday. KAMINSKI Strange. They don’t leave contact information? (off Hunter’s shrug) Maybe with the help? HUNTER Everyone’s off for the New Year’s holiday. KAMINSKI Doorman, nice fellow Samuel, says you’re a good kid, says you used to beat off in the elevator. Got “IT” in on tape. Hunter turns red. 32. KAMINSKI (cont’d) Probably got some nice elevators. All those mirrors and stuff. HUNTER When can I get out of here? DUM Samuel says you left the house around 1:15 A.M. Where’d you go? EXT. YORK AVE. - THE PREVIOUS NIGHT Hunter walks along York Ave., late on the previous night. He passes the same GARBAGE CAN ON FIRE that White Mike saw. The KIDS stoke the fire. HUNTER (O.S.) For a walk. DUMONT (O.S.) All night? HUNTER (0.S) Is that against the law? KAMINSKI (O.S.) Where’d you dump the gun Hunter? Hunter approaches the fire. He tosses the contents of his pockets into the can, including his father’s ITINERARY. INT. INTERROGATION ROOM - PRESENT TIME HUNTER (smiles) What gun? DUMONT Hunter, what does you father do? HUNTER Does that matter? DUMONT I’m just trying to figure a kid with holes in his story a mile wide who waives his rights and looks at a double murder charge like he’s in the sack with Jennifer Lopez. 33. HUNTER You’ve no witnesses, no weapon, no motive- DUMONT What’s your father do? HUNTER He’s an attorney. INT. - ELEANOR’S COFFEE SHOP - SAME TIME The sunlight is white light on Molly as she sits, curled up on a couch, engrossed in E.L Doctorow's " Ragtime," at this Upper East Side coffeehouse. At the other end of the couch, Tobias drinks a Mocha Latte and stares at Molly, barely pretending to read his “Maxim.” Tobias turns to an article headlined: “3 Steps to Getting HER Attention.” As he reads, we hear the sexy voice of the Maxim- Girl that plays in his little mind. MAXIM GIRL VOICE-OVER One: Comment on something she’s wearing. Do not choose something on her chest. TOBIAS Groovy ankle bracelet. Molly’s hand runs instinctively to the Indian bead bracelet just above her Nikes. She smiles. MOLLY Thanks, seven bucks in the Village. MAXIM GIRL VOICE-OVER Two: Make her laugh. Come on you can think of something. TOBIAS Too bad. You could have dropped seven hundred on Madison. Molly barely registers a smile and goes back to her reading. MAXIM GIRL VOICE-OVER Now: No matter what the result. Don’t speak. Wait for her to talk to you. If she doesn’t you’re shit out of luck. 34. After a few moments of staring met by silence, Tobias stands, and walks toward the door, coat draped over his arm. MOLLY (O.S.) It's cold out there. Tobias smiles. MAXIM GIRL VOICE-OVER If she does, you’ve got her. EXT. CENTRAL PARK AMPHITHEATER - SAME TIME - INTERCUT White Mike sits on the bench across from the Amphitheater completing a deal with a CUSTOMER, 17 female, in white puffy Northface. On the stage, a lone SKATEBOARDER prepares for a stunt, stacking boards. His cell rings. INT. JESSICA’S ROOM - SAME TIME - INTERCUT Jessica sit cross-legged on her bed amidst her collection of FAO SCHWARTZ BEARS. JESSICA Is this White Mike? WHITE MIKE What do you need? JESSICA I did this stuff last night-- It was like ecstacy but not, like coke but--better. White Mike hesitates. WHITE MIKE It’s called Twelve. But I don’t handle it. JESSICA Do you know who does? On the stage the skateboarder rolls toward the jump... WHITE MIKE I’ll get back to you. THE SKATEBOARDER - SLOW MOTION - Airborne, baseball cap pulled tight, eyes closed, lit cigarette dangling, smile on his face, a teenager at one with the moment. He lands clean, White Mike on the cell. 35. WHITE MIKE Charlie. Trying you again. Hunter says you’re in the city.--Call me back. INT. - LENOX HOSPITAL ROOM 1443 - SAME TIME Sara, clutching red roses, enters the room and approaches SEAN, large WHITE CAST on his throwing arm courtesy of one totaled Mini Cooper in Chinatown. She kisses him on the forehead and deposits the flowers onto the table. SARA You made the papers but no photo. Just something about a backup on the Williamsburg.--Told ya you should’ve asked for an SUV. Andrew, fifty stitches from the cut made by Jessica’s skates, watches from the next bed. Sean has slits for eyes. He speaks with a heavy Morphine accent. SEAN Weren’t you supposed to be in St. Barths? (off her nervous look) Your parents bailed again, didn’t they? SARA Did not. (sees Andrew watching) I just couldn’t imagine enjoying myself on the beach while my boyfriend was back here suffering. Dr. K calls it Jewish New York Collective Guilt. SEAN You’re not Jewish. SARA That’s why it’s collective, Einstein. Andrew laughs. Sara notices. SARA (cont’d) Where are your parents? 36. SEAN Came and went. Glenda’s here. Sara gives the evil eye to Sean’s nanny GLENDA, black, 50’s, who sits in the corner pretending to read “People.” When she turns back, Sean has drifted off to morphine-land. SARA Seanniee. Andrew seizes the opportunity. ANDREW You’re Sara Ludlow. SARA You know me? ANDREW My sister’s friends with this girl Vanessa who goes to Sacred Heart who knows- SARA Everyone knows everyone. (beat) What happened to you? ANDREW Hockey accident. SARA You don’t look like a hockey player. ANDREW You don’t look like someone who’d pass up a trip to St. Barths. That hurts. No one ever calls her on anything. ANDREW (cont’d) Shit. Sorry. My mom says I gotta learn to control my vicious streak. SARA (smiles) My shrink says the same thing. She hears the music from his headphones. 37. SARA (cont’d) Is that Coldplay? I love that disc. Sara sits on Andrew’s bed, hands out. He gives her the headphones then adjusts the covers to hide his erection. EXT. CENTRAL PARK - SAME TIME White Mike buys a pretzel from the ubiquitous PRETZEL MAN, and his SILVER CART and walks away. He tears off a piece and tosses it to the PIGEONS. WINGS FLAP in hungry unision. ABOVE WHITE MIKE’S HEAD - A Red Tail hawk swooping down from the sky heading for the pigeons. It attacks - a pigeon’s feathers shoot off it’s dying body. The Hawk takes off carrying its bounty against the backdrop of the Midtown Skyline. White Mike smiles, watching the Hawk until it veers out of sight. INT. CHRIS AND CLAUDE’S TOWNHOUSE - STAIRWAY - SAME TIME Molly trails Tobias through the hallway at Chris and Claude’s townhouse. HER POV - CHRIS, through the library door, shadowboxing, boxing gloves cartoonish on his skinny arms. The COACH in Camo Pants... COACH On your toes Chris. CLAUDE through his door lit only by the flat screen playing the HISTORY CHANNEL something in his hands we can’t see... TOBIAS Claudius, I’m introducing Molly to our flesh-eating friends. Claude speaks without turning around. CLAUDE Tobias brings all his ladies to see the Piranhas. He thinks the violence turns them on. Tobias rolls his eyes and motions Molly down the hallway. Camera moves toward Claude who stands and approaches his closet... 38. ...opening the doors revealing a SHRINE OF WEAPONS, swords, daggers, a helmet, the necessities of a young Samurai. He takes a handful of Brooks Brother’s slacks and tosses them to the floor making room for the GLISTENING SWORD in his hands. PIRHANA ROOM - MOMENTS LATER Molly sits tentatively at the edge of the bed, her face is bathed in the phosphorescent blue of the TANK. Tobias, fills a one-hitter engraved with a gold leaf. TOBIAS Temperature controlled, light regulated, a diet of pate, filet mignon, the occasional hydroponic. Life is good for these children. (offering the one hitter) Smoke? Molly, shakes her head. Tobias shrugs and lights. MOLLY Are you going to school next year? TOBIAS My dad wants me to go to Princeton because he donates beaucoup cash but I’d rather keep modeling and you know--just go with the flow. Tobias, pulls off his shoes and socks, getting comfortable. Molly looks at his PAINTED TOES. TOBIAS (cont’d) Besides, why should I feel guilty I get a rush when I see myself in print? MOLLY (sarcastic) I like your toes. They’re pretty. Maybe I'll take some photos of you. --So you can get a rush. TOBIAS Right on. Tobias jumps up. TOBIAS (cont’d) ..Politic with the fish. I wanna show you something. 39. Tobias leaves. Molly leans close to the aquarium. HER EYES THROUGH THE GLASS - We hear a loud SPLASH and we’re... EXT. THE OCEAN - THE BAHAMAS - 3 YEARS EARLIER ...in the ocean 3 years earlier. Molly, kicking her feet over the edge of the boat. White Mike in the water. He pulls off his mask and snorkel. MOLLY Go ahead. I’m not feeling so well. WHITE MIKE Having a shitty time doesn’t get you revenge against your father for blowing you off. Molly considers. SPLASH. MOLLY AND WHITE MIKE IN THE WATER - Their faces are wet and close together. WHITE MIKE (cont’d) Concentrate on what you see underwater. Always makes me feel better. He dives. She dives. UNDERWATER - His peaceful eyes watch the fish. Molly watches White Mike, his strong lean body, moving effortlessly... TOBIAS (O.S.) Watch this. PIRAHNA ROOM - PRESENT TIME Tobias’ voice snaps Molly back to reality. He releases a small cooked QUAIL into the tank then clicks a button on his digital watch. ONE - The piranhas rip at the flesh. TWO - The hunks of meat disappear - THREE - The fish ram the corpse into the glass. Molly jumps back. Tobias smiles. TOBIAS A record. 40. INT. KITCHEN - WHITE MIKE’S FATHER RESTAURANT - SAME TIME Ecuadorian COOKS, Mexican DISHWASHERS, greet White Mike with much love, high-fives, the slap of a towel etc., as he passes through this bustling kitchen, stopping at the swinging doors that lead to the dining room. POV THROUGH THE GLASS - the restaurant of the moment, beautiful CUSTOMERS laughing, eating. At the corner booth, White Mike’s father, seated with two MEN, 30’s, one white, one black, wearing the fabric of success. CUT TO: INT. KITCHEN - WHITE MIKE’S FATHER RESTAURANT - MINUTES LATER Steam pouring off the burner. WAITER’s, shouting food orders. White Mike standing, eating a plate of pasta at the steel counter. His father approaches. WHITE MIKE’S FATHER I thought you stood me up. WHITE MIKE You looked busy. WHITE MIKE’S FATHER Not at all. I’m sitting with two execs at “Bad Boy,” P Diddy’s company. They’re telling outrageous tales, adventures in “sin” Tropez and all that nonsense. Come on. It’s a kick. WHITE MIKE I thought you wanted to catch up. WHITE MIKE’S FATHER Yeah. We will.--I just wanted to show my son off. People are starting to think I invented you. WHITE MIKE I’m alright here. Ramon took care of me. WHITE MIKE’S FATHER Sure I can’t tempt you? Got a table of “Uvesi” jean girls getting smashed on Dom. The Brazilian- White Mike interrupts. 41. WHITE MIKE I saw a red tail kill a pigeon in the park today. WHITE MIKE’S FATHER Yeah? WHITE MIKE Mom would’ve loved it. Uncomfortable silence. WHITE MIKE’S FATHER I should get back. --I’ll try to get home early. Okay? His father starts to walk off. WHITE MIKE It’s “Evisu” dad. White Mike puts on his long coat and walks out, palming a cannister to few of the Ecuadorian cooks without waiting for payment. LINE COOKS Gracias Blanca Miguel! White Mike walks out the door. EXT. CENTRAL PARK EAST - LATER - DAY White Mike walks along looking up at the cornices and parapets above the Pre-Wars. EXT. CENTRAL PARK ZOO - LATER -DAY White Mike walks toward the entrance to the zoo. He talks on the cell. WHITE MIKE Hunter. Checking in. Lemme know if you hear from Charlie. Goddamn kid’s vanished again. THREE BOYS, 11, rush by. White Mike watches as one of the boys, slips and falls, his RED PARKA sharp against the white of the snow and we are... EXT. CENTRAL PARK ZOO - EIGHT YEARS EARLIER - SPRING - DAY ...MOVING FAST, hovering above YOUNG HUNTER, 11, YOUNG CHARLIE, 10, AND YOUNG WHITE MIKE who run in prep school 42. uniforms, ties flapping against their young chests. The BRIGHT COLORS OF SPRING rush by. DORRINE, 30’s, Haitian Nanny - wears a GOLD RING on every finger. DORRINE (West Indian accent) Hunter, Charlie, Michael, It’s past time to go. The POP GUN MAN, 50’s, big fat mustache, pushes his SILVER CART into frame and the camera rushes to greet him. He towers above the trio bearing colored balloons, swords and... POPGUN Little men, I’ve got big guns. DORRINE This is the last time. THREE PAIRS OF YOUNG HANDS - Reach for their POP GUNS, rudimentary weapons with corks for bullets. EXT. CENTRAL PARK RESERVOIR - LATER -DAY Barren trees, the desolate beauty of Central Park in Winter. SILENCE. White Mike walks alone. Out of this vista, Molly appears, her red scarf exploding against the grey sky. White Mike smiles. MOLLY I need to induct someone into the hypocrites club. WHITE MIKE Who? MOLLY Me. WHITE MIKE It’s not that easy to make the cut. MOLLY I met this guy, a “model,” today at Eleanor’s. He asked me to go with him to his friend’s house to see their killer fish. And I went. WHITE MIKE Killer fish aren’t hypocrites. 43. White Mike is completely relaxed around Molly, almost a different person. They walk around the reservoir. MOLLY What about the fact that he’s a vapid model who stands for everything we despise and I still went along with him. Plastic chicks, Prada bags, treating the maid badly, the mansion of greed, the whole thing.--So I’m already having an out of body experience and then he tries to get me stoned. WHITE MIKE (alarmed) You smoked? MOLLY No. This guy I know says we’re born with hardly enough brain cells to obliterate the few we’ve got. WHITE MIKE Smart fellow. White Mike should be president of the hypocrites club. MOLLY Well, do I get into the dreaded club? WHITE MIKE I don’t think so. MOLLY Why not? WHITE MIKE You’re attracted to beauty and repelled by superficiality. That’s complexity not hypocrisy. MOLLY You make my shallowness sound so appealing. WHITE MIKE You’re not going to see this loser again are you? MOLLY Michael are you jealous? 44. WHITE MIKE Come on. We’re friends. That hurts. MOLLY He asked me to come and “chill” at his house later. WHITE MIKE What’d you say? MOLLY I said maybe.--He said I need to learn to live in the moment--and he paints his toes. WHITE MIKE He paints his toes? MOLLY Blue. White Mike’s cell RINGS. CALLER ID - Lionel WHITE MIKE That’s my Dad. I really should be getting back to the restaurant. MOLLY So I should tell this guy to fuck off right? White Mike can’t make eye contact. WHITE MIKE Gotta go your own way.. Molly is crushed. INT. INTERROGATION ROOM - DAY Through the glass of an interrogation room we see but cannot hear ARTURO, the kid from the rec who egged on the fight, talking animatedly to Dumont and Kaminski. Camera moves left finding Hunter... HUNTER’S INTERROGATION ROOM - ...exhaustion setting in, Hunter stares vacantly at the graffiti on the table. He looks up when hears the DOOR OPENING. Kaminski and Dumont enter wearing grave faces. 45. DUMONT Arturo Barrera? Know him? HUNTER Arturo? From the rec? DUMONT Arturo can place you at the Jefferson Projects a few minutes before the neighbors heard the shots. For the first time Hunter shows fear. HUNTER He’s lying. KAMINSKI Why would he lie? HUNTER Maybe because he never gets into the game. Kaminski laughs. DUMONT Arturo says you told him on a few occasions that you were “gonna kill that nigga Nana”.--Blood, witness and motive Hunter. You want to confess now? HUNTER I want an attorney. Camera pushing in on Hunter... DUMONT (0.S) Forensics found a substance similar to cocaine in the dead white kid’s blood. Only it’s not cocaine. What were you selling Hunter? You want to tell us the name of the white kid you killed? His ID says he’s Maurice Charles from Ohio but Hunter, there is no Maurice Charles from Ohio. Camera reaches Hunter, imagining the worst. 46. EXT. LEXINGTON AND 91ST - DUSK Lionel commands the pavement in his leather overcoat and swagger. White Mike walks with him. LIONEL See ya man over there. He’s holdin. Got that shit inside his boots. A WHITE DEALER, 25, black boots, walks up Lexington. LIONEL (cont’d) Watch this. Lionel WHISTLES. Dealer turns his head. Lionel raises his cell to his ear in mock conversation. Spooked, the dealer speeds up, making a sharp right at the corner. Lionel laughs a deep baritone. WHITE MIKE What was the giveaway? LIONEL Dealers can see their own. White Mike catches a glimpse of his own reflection in the passing window, wondering if it’s that obvious. WHITE MIKE You seen my cousin? LIONEL Who? WHITE MIKE Charlie. You know. Guy who introduced us. Lionel doesn’t hesitate. LIONEL Nope. IN THE DISTANCE - Jessica in wrap-around Oakleys, sipping a Papaya and pacing. She sees White Mike and Lionel approaching and tosses the juice in the garbage. EXT. THE PAPAYA KING - MOMENT LATER Lionel towers over Jessica. White Mike is next to him. 47. LIONEL How much? JESSICA A thousand. JESSICA’S SHAKING HANDS - pull many hundreds from her pocket. LIONEL Get that shit down. What the fuck’s wrong with you? Jessica pockets the money. She looks close to tears. WHITE MIKE It’s okay. Let’s walk. They walk, White Mike brokering in the middle. WHITE MIKE (cont’d) Just relax. No one will see.--Roll it up in the palm of your hand. (she rolls) Pass it to me. THE ASSEMBLY LINE - In Jessica’s eyes - White Mike passes CASH to Lionel who sends five white BAGGIES back to Jessica. She stops, looks Lionel square in the eyes. She’s not shaking anymore. JESSICA Can I get your number Lionel? Because you know--it might be easier if it’s direct next time. White Mike cringes. Jessica passes her cell to Lionel who punches in his number. Jessica walks away. WHITE MIKE Girl looks too clean for that shit. LIONEL Clean ain’t got shit to do with it. INT. SARA’S BEDROOM - NIGHT Sara, Gabby and Shelly are on the carpet, leaning over a tattered LIFE MAGAZINE. Sara’s sister CYNTHIA, 15, glasses, on the bed. Sara turns the pages and we see... 48. PHOTOS - An off-the-hook party of the Young and Beautiful circa 1940. Black and white decadence. SARA They called it “the party of the century.” GABBY Like the Great Gatsby. SHELLY It was such a simple time. CYNTHIA Oh please, there was rampant racism, massive hypocrisy, the women had like no rights- SARA Shut up, Cynthia. (she turns the page) And this is my grandmother. Wasn’t she just breathtaking? Camera pushes in toward a photo of SARA’S GRANDMOTHER at 17, a dead ringer for her granddaughter. She wears a stunning BLACK DIOR. GABBY She’s you. SARA Check this girls. My mother was born October 7, 1960. She stands up for the punch line. SARA (cont’d) Exactly 9 months after the party. CYNTHIA Oh my God, Grandma was a ho. SARA No Cynthia. Grandma was smart. Sara closes the magazine. On the cover, PARTY OF THE CENTURY. SARA (cont’d) Between the three of us. How many people do we know? 49. SHELLY Um. Everybody. SARA Exactly. Everyone. She lifts her Nokia, Shelly and Gabby do likewise and the SOUND OF DIGITAL PHONE KEYS takes us to... INT. THE PARTY VIRUS - SAME TIME A GIRL 16, at the PAPAYA KING reaches for her ringing cell and listens, PAN to two BOY’s 17, outside the window pressing their T-Mobile sidekicks, PAN across the street where a GROUP of TEENS exits the BEST BUY, cells to their ears... MALE AND FEMALE VOICES (V.O.) New Year’s bash, 2 East Madison, Chez Kenton, Sara Ludlow, Sacred hotties, gonna be fly, be there when the ball drops... ...TEENS outside BERGDORFS, riding in TAXIS, on the steps of the GUGGENHEIM.... INT. JESSICA’S ROOM - SAME TIME ...Jessica, drenched in sweat, hand outstretched, reaches for the FLASHING LIGHT ON HER MOTOROLA, giving up, she pulls herself back to the bed, leaning over the mirror between her legs and snorting two waiting lines of TWELVE in rapid succession, then falling straight back into the waiting arms of her FAO SCHWARTZ BEARS, frozen euphoric grin on her face. INT. TAXI - SAME TIME White Mike reads the name and number of the TAXI DRIVER, Indian, 50’s. A small PAPIER MACHE BIRD hangs from the rear view mirror. WHITE MIKE How do you pronounce your name? TAXI DRIVER Snakar Munaim. Sane-car-moon-eyeeem. Is hard no? WHITE MIKE Yeah. I always try to get the names right. TAXI DRIVER You know any Indian people? 50. WHITE MIKE No is the truth. TAXI DRIVER What is your name? White Mike’s cell VIBRATES - TEXT MESSAGE - NY EVE 2 E. 90th Ludlow. WHITE MIKE White Mike. TAXI DRIVER Is that Irish? WHITE MIKE Yeah. Silence. WHITE MIKE You like birds? Driver reaches out and touches the bird hanging off the rear view. TAXI DRIVER Oh. No, my son made in school. WHITE MIKE I saw a hawk kill a pigeon in the park today. TAXI DRIVER Poor pigeon. OUT THE WINDOW - GIRLS, 20, group-hugging. WHITE MIKE Hard to have sympathy for them. They move in packs and they’re spoiled, too lazy to fly. Hawks are still predators, even in the city. TAXI DRIVER Why hawks in New York? WHITE MIKE The canyons between the buildings remind them of the mountains. White Mike opens his window. He leans his head way out and points straight up... 51. LOOKING UP FROM A MOVING TAXI - BUILDINGS leading to a dark sky. WHITE MIKE (cont’d) Look. It’s like living in a canyon. Trapped air between the buildings creates lift and floats em. Makes it easy to fly. REVERSE ANGLE - looking down on White Mike’s face staring up. Lights of the city wash across his face. White Mike pulls his head in and rolls the window up. EXT. 73RD STREET - MORNING HIGH ABOVE 73RD STREET - A lock down camera. The soft early morning light hits the conspicuously barren street. A “John Philip Sousa March” accompanies as... ...A DOORMAN holds open the door and a NANNY emerges onto the street, pushing her Graco XLT stroller. A few moments later another NANNY pushing her stroller... ...NANNIES pushing strollers emerge from every door and every building on the street until... ...The block, once empty, is filled with the procession of the Nannies, heading east. SUPERIMPOSE - DECEMBER 29TH INT. JESSICA’S BEDROOM - DAY 3 Jessica stares at her tired, hungover reflection in the mirror. She pulls on a pair of Nike shorts and picks up her JUMP ROPE. JESSICA One hundred, ninety-nine, ninetyeight... She decides to torture herself and stick on ninety-eight... JESSICA (cont’d) Ninety-eight, ninety-eight, ninetyeight.... INT. HALLWAY CHRIS AND CLAUDE’S TOWNHOUSE - MORNING Claude walks through the hallway, pausing outside Chris’ doorway where... 52. CHRIS Yes I tipped everyone Mom. How was the helicopter ride?... ...Chris, back to Claude, flexes in the mirror, headset phone on his ears. Claude listens. CHRIS (cont’d) ...I’m having a couple of people over.--Nothing big.--When are you coming home?... Chris catches a glimpse of Claude in the reflection. As Chris speaks we hold on CLAUDE’S FACE. CHRIS (0.S) (cont’d) ...Claude’ll be up in Connecticut by then.--You wanna talk to him? He’s right here. I’m sure he-- alright, okay, have fun, bye. Chris clicks off then turns to face his brother. A moment of eye contact then Claude walks away. INT. WHITE MIKE’S BEDROOM - SAME TIME POV THROUGH THE BINOCULARS - The red-haired boy across the way, standing by the window, staring at White Mike. White Mike puts the binoculars down and opens his window. He picks up an INDEX CARD AIRPLANE, leans way out and throws - the plane swirls, does a “three sixty” and dives toward the taxis below. The boy smiles. White Mike’s phone VIBRATES. INT. WHITE MIKE’S FATHER’S RESTAURANT - DAY JESSICA’s MOM, 30’s, gorgeous, fastidious, sits across from her daughter in a booth at White Mike’s father’s restaurant. JESSCIA I just got a few B’s, Mom. Let’s not make it into a media circus. JESSICA’S MOM Did you study hard? JESSCIA Yes Mom. JESSICA’S MOM Did you work with the tutor? 53. JESSICA Yes Mom. JESSICA’S MOM Maybe you should cut down on your extracurriculars, coaching the kids- JESSICA (frustrated) No way. She looks down then reaches out. JESSICA (cont’d) What do you really know about me Mom? JESSICA’S MOM I know you’re very busy. You’re editing the yearbook and writing for the school paper and that you’re planning to go to Wesleyan- JESSICA That’s not me. That’s what I do. JESSICA’S MOM You’ll get back on track. JESSICA Can we just please talk about something real? JESSICA’S MOM Well, what would you like to talk about? JESSICA For instance, how you feel about Dad going off to Hong Kong all the time? JESSICA’S MOM His business is more and more overseas. The economy is global. JESSICA Get a clue Mom. You don’t think he’s flying forty hours roundtrip every month just for business do you? 54. JESSICA’S MOM He’s flying there so we can live comfortable lives. And for that matter--so you can have that nice straight nose on your face. Jessica looks down. A few uncomfortable moments then... JESSICA’S MOM (cont’d) Finish up Jessica. I was thinking we’d stop at Bergdorfs on the way home and pick you up that Blue Parka, the one you so subtly stared while we were Christmas shopping. --If that’s alright with you? Jessica looks up, the good daughter again. JESSICA Thanks mom. EXT. MADISON AVE. - SAME TIME White Mike walks among the SHOPPERS on Madison. An off-screen phone RINGS to the tune of “Beethoven’s 5th.” White Mike quickly scans the crowd for the source- A TEEN IN A PUFFY PARKA - reaching for his cell. White Mike moves fast weaving past shoppers, grabbing the kid’s arm. The TEEN, 17 turns to face White Mike. It’s not Charlie. TEEN IN PUFFY PARKA What the fuck man? White Mike stares at the kid with those penetrating eyes. The kid backs down, walking away as Sara comes toward us, shopping bag on each arm. She enters a boutique. INT. HUNTER’S CELL - PRECINCT 122 SAME TIME Hunter alone in his holding cell. He looks around at the spare windowless room, bunk beds, graffiti on the walls. He lays down on the lower bunk, grimacing. He reaches under the covers and removes the culprit, a tiny piece of the brick wall, broken off by a previous angry occupant. Hunter takes the WRITING TOOL and begins to cut into the wall... He chisels an “M’ then an “A”...Off-screen, a CLANG echoes... INT. HALLWAY TOBIAS’ MADISON AVE. APARTMENT - SAME TIME ...White Mike RINGS the bell of a door at the end of the majestic hallway. A NANNY, 60’s, opens the door. 55. WHITE MIKE I’m here to see Tobias. Nanny motions White Mike into the foyer. NANNY (into an intercom) Tobias, a young man to see you. Tobias walks toward White Mike in shorts and flip flops. TOBIAS Ah, the medicine man. I’m Tobias. White Mike reaches in his pocket, catching a glimpse of Tobias’ BLUE TOES. The color draining fast from White Mike’s face... MOLLY Michael. What are you doing here? White Mike looks up at Molly’s huge and vanishing smile. TOBIAS (to Molly) You guys know each other? And you said you’d never smoked herb. MOLLY You’re--delivering--the weed? Molly’s black eyes burn a hole through White Mike. MOLLY (cont’d) Michael you are the biggest hypocrite that ever lived. White Mike stares back at her unable to speak. A long moment of crushing truths. White Mike turns ice. He hands a cannister to Tobias and walks out the door.

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