12 First Draft


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12 First Draft

  1. 1. <br />(Name of Project)<br />by<br />(Name of First Writer)<br />(Based on, If Any)<br />Revisions by<br />(Names of Subsequent Writers,<br />in Order of Work Performed)<br />Current Revisions by<br />(Current Writer, date)<br /> <br />Name (of company, if applicable)<br />Address<br />Phone Number<br />FADE IN:<br />EXT. LEXINGTON AVE. - LATE AFTERNOON<br />STEAM RISES like the city’s breath against the winter chill.<br />Pedestrians hurry by on the crosswalk, their faces obscured<br />by the curling mist. Slowly, as if born of the steam, one<br />face emerges, piercing eyes framed by a gray hooded<br />sweatshirt. WHITE MIKE, 18, walks past a construction site,<br />trailing his too-long Brooks Brothers overcoat with an easy<br />grace.<br />SUPERIMPOSE - DECEMBER 27TH<br />White Mike weaves between PEDESTRIANS on Lexington Ave.,<br />mothers with Citarella bags, yuppies clutching coffees,<br />elderly women in mink. A young BUYER, 18, in Northface parka<br />and iPod, steps from the lobby of a pre-war building and<br />moves in lock-step with White Mike as the ritual begins.<br />Buyer’s hand to puffy pocket - White Mike’s hand to Brooks<br />Brothers pocket - palm to palm - the exchange is made.<br />Choreographed urban economics, their figures split, White<br />Mike disappearing into the crowd.<br />We pick him up, cellular to his ear walking behind a WOMAN in<br />a white mini-skirt and long cold legs, glancing over his<br />shoulder as a Boomer, i.e., a tricked out Escalade, slows and<br />turns the corner. The door opens...<br />...Gangstarr’s “Work” knocks us back as White Mike sits into<br />a veil of smoke and TEENAGERS. A girl offers White Mike a<br />burning joint. He shakes his head “No,” and the door closes,<br />obscuring our view. The camera rises and glides over the<br />black roof meeting White Mike as he emerges on the other<br />side, one hand pocketing the cash, the other hailing a taxi<br />which stops on cue.<br />INT. TAXI - MOMENTS LATER - DUSK<br />WHITE MIKE<br />129th and Lexington.<br />White Mike checks his phone, pulls his hood back and looks<br />out the window.<br />A group of TEENS bearing HMV BAGS, GOOD GUYS bags etc., pile<br />their bodies and belongings into a taxi.<br />Moments later, we cross 96th Street into Harlem. The switch<br />from yuppie storefronts to urban poverty is abrupt.<br />2.<br />INT. HARLEM REC CENTER - SAME TIME<br />In mid-air trajectory, NANA, 17, short, black, heads for a<br />dunk. JERRY, 18, black, goatee, gets all ball and a shitload<br />of body. Nana goes down hard, gets up slow.<br />NANA<br />Shit was flagrant bitch.<br />Nana walks off the court muttering to himself.<br />PLAYER 1<br />Nigga, get your ass back in the<br />game.<br />Jerry turns to the sidelines where HUNTER, 18, 6’ 2” of wiry<br />beef, Vassar volleyball t-shirt and the sole white face in<br />the gym stands a few feet away from ARTURO, 16, a small<br />Puerto Rican clutching a basketball.<br />JERRY<br />Hunter. You’re rolling with us.<br />Arturo watches the tall white kid join the game, then looks<br />down at his own short legs.<br />EXT. MADISON AVE. - SAME TIME - NIGHT<br />Three pairs of JIMMY CHOO STILETTO KNEE HIGHS step in unison.<br />SHELLY(O.S.)<br />Were your parents shocked?<br />SARAH (O.S.)<br />My Dad’s crushed. But he’ll just<br />have to survive without me this<br />year.<br />SARA LUDLOW, 17, blond hair. Blue eyes. High cheekbones. We<br />want to reach out and touch her skin. Just to be sure, she<br />removes her compact from her Louis Vuitton bag...<br />SARA<br />Dr. K says “I have to assert my<br />independence if I plan to become<br />self-actualized.”<br />GABBY 17, voluptuous. SHELLY 17, Asian, rail thin.<br />GABBY<br />What does that mean?<br />3.<br />SHELLY<br />It means we’re going to be together<br />for New Year’s.<br />SARA<br />It means we’re going to have the<br />best New Year’s ever.<br />The girls lock arms and walk on.<br />EXT. UNDER THE BRIDGE 129TH AND LEXINGTON - SAME TIME<br />A Taxi pulls away, leaving White Mike shrouded in darkness.<br />He hugs his coat tight against the wind and looks up at the<br />icicles that hang off the bridge. HEADLIGHTS approach,<br />lighting the hundreds of urban stalactites like fireflies. A<br />BMW X5 pulls over, passenger door opening like a black wing<br />extended.<br />White Mike moves toward it.<br />INT. HARLEM REC CENTER - SAME TIME<br />Hunter can’t dribble for shit but he’s got ups. He grabs a<br />rebound and flares a full court pass to Jerry who does a<br />reverse jam, gives praise to the sky and a slight nod to<br />Hunter. Respect.<br />EXT. CHINATOWN RESTAURANT - CANAL STREET - SAME TIME<br />CLAUDE<br />How much for the rabbit?<br />CLAUDE, 18, menacing eyes, muscles defined from fanatical<br />bench pressing, speaks to a CASHIER and points at the hanging<br />rabbits behind the glass at this sidewalk Chinese takeout.<br />A few feet away, standing near the VENDORS along Canal,<br />TOBIAS, 17, beautiful, borderline effeminate which works<br />wonders with the chicks, cracks up as Claude pays for the<br />rabbit then comes toward him, holding it high in mock<br />victory.<br />TOBIAS<br />Groovy. Dinner for the piranhas.<br />Claude heads east along Canal, paper bagged rabbit in hand.<br />Tobias hurries to catch-up.<br />TOBIAS (CONT'D)<br />City was a wasteland without you.--<br />Where’d you get this tree? It’s<br />sick.<br />4.<br />CLAUDE<br />Present from the wilderness guide.<br />TOBIAS<br />No way. At Turnabout?<br />CLAUDE<br />Hike. Detox. Bond. Get a fucking<br />Indian name. Sign the pledge. Get<br />chronic. Go home.<br />TOBIAS<br />Claudius you are one true criminal.<br />CLAUDE<br />I’m outta here after New Year’s.<br />TOBIAS<br />No way.<br />CLAUDE<br />Anderson Military.<br />TOBIAS<br />Shit, you’ve been in more schools<br />than my Mom’s had husbands. What is<br />that now? Fifth in three years?<br />Claude winces and looks toward Canal.<br />His POV - A YELLOW TAXI - moving along Canal, the driver’s<br />window open.<br />In a flash Claude pulls the rabbit from the bag, reaches back<br />and throws...<br />...Rabbit goes flying through the taxi window. Tobias’ eyes<br />bug out as the taxi SWERVES into oncoming traffic heading<br />directly for...<br />INT. SEAN’S RED CUSTOM MINI COOPER - CONTINUOUS<br />...SEAN, 17, quarterback of the Poly Prep football team, nuff<br />said, listening to U2 at maximum volume and SINGING at the<br />top of his lungs...<br />SEAN<br />Sunday bloody Sunday-<br />...a Yellow taxi heading directly for his face. He swerves...<br />5.<br />EXT. CANAL STREET - CONTINUOUS -<br />...Too late. Yellow taxi runs into red Mini Cooper which runs<br />into green streetlight, bumper car style. The Mini Cooper<br />crumbles. Sean’s arm is wrapped around the steering wheel,<br />his screams masked by his HORN stuck on repeat. Driver jumps<br />out of his taxi, fist raised toward Claude and Tobias...<br />...Who RUN wildly down the narrow streets wreaking havoc,<br />passing an outdoor trinket shop, a hanging wind-up bird flaps<br />its wings and glows red.<br />EXT. MADISON AVE. - SAME TIME<br />The girls are lit by the night displays in the passing<br />boutiques.<br />SARA<br />You know who’s a bitch?<br />SHELLY<br />Who?<br />SARA<br />Layla.<br />GABBY<br />She thinks she’s so smart she never<br />shuts up.<br />SARA<br />She’s in my English class.<br />SHELLY<br />Boberas’?<br />SARA<br />Yeah and she just says anything.<br />Something about how everyone took<br />the Holocaust so seriously or<br />something. She made Jane Grey run<br />out of the room crying.<br />SHELLY<br />Is Jane Jewish?<br />GABBY<br />I don’t think so. She used to be<br />anorexic.<br />They giggle as they come around the corner and see...<br />6.<br />A TOWNHOUSE - Five floors lit up and glowing yellow. On the<br />stoop, a tall figure in overcoat and hooded sweatshirt. Push<br />in towards White Mike as we hear...<br />EXT. CHRIS AND CLAUDE’S BROWNSTONE - CONTINUOUS<br />...”50 Cent” playing on the house stereo while a hundred<br />dollars changes hands at the doorway. White Mike passes a<br />clear cannister containing one green bud of Super Diesel to<br />CHRIS, 17, pimples and bling in equal doses.<br />CHRIS<br />Wanna come in? Shit’s bumping.<br />White Mike peers inside and sees a few WHITE KIDS dancing<br />palms to the sky....<br />WHITE MIKE<br />No thanks.<br />He descends the steps passing the girls, his penetrating eyes<br />quieting Sara in mid-sentence.<br />INT. HARLEM REC CENTER - SAME TIME<br />A PLAYER lofts an NBA three pointer. SWISH. Nana grabs it<br />before it hits the ground. He glares at Hunter.<br />NANA<br />I’m playing.<br />Hunter’s not sure what to do.<br />PLAYER 2<br />You gave it up Nana. You got next.<br />ARTURO<br />No I got next.<br />EVERYONE BUT HUNTER<br />Shut up Arturo.<br />NANA<br />(to Hunter)<br />I said give me my fuckin spot back.<br />JERRY<br />Nana get off the court. Hunter’s my<br />nigga.<br />HUNTER<br />Nah, it’s alright.<br />7.<br />JERRY<br />Yo man don’t let him do you like<br />that.<br />Nana moves fast and gets up in Hunter’s face.<br />NANA<br />What the fuck you slummin for<br />bitch?<br />HUNTER<br />Easy man.<br />ARTURO<br />Oh shit. Nigga's gonna fight.<br />Nana pushes Hunter back.<br />NANA<br />Take your white ass back downtown<br />bitch.<br />HUNTER<br />Come on man.<br />Nana shoves Hunter hard into the wall. Hunter unloads, a<br />single punch, breaking Nana’s nose. Nana looks down at the<br />blood flowing on his shirt.<br />ARTURO<br />Shit.<br />Nana kicks Hunter in the balls. They go down in a pile of<br />fists and feet and blood.<br />EXT. 5TH AVE. - SAME TIME<br />White Mike walks along the edge of the Park, dwarfed by the<br />Pre-Wars, white fortresses against a black sky.<br />He watches as a WOMAN IN BLACK nods at DOORMAN 1 who opens<br />the inner door moments before DOORMAN 2 opens the outer door<br />followed by DOORMAN 3 who holds open a Taxi Door--which<br />promptly pulls away leaving three Doormen in perfect symmetry<br />with no doors to open. White Mike walks on.<br />INT. CHRIS AND CLAUDE’S TOWNHOUSE - SITTING ROOM - SAME TIME<br />Sara, in Dolce and Gabbana miniskirt and pink Tuleh logo<br />cashmere tee stands among the PARTIERS, gazing up a soulless<br />PORTRAIT of Chris, Claude and their parents. She spots Chris<br />by the fireplace and makes a beeline through the dancers.<br />8.<br />SARA<br />Is this your house?<br />Chris’ tongue is in his throat.<br />CHRIS<br />You’re Sara Ludlow.<br />SARA<br />(fake)<br />How’d you know?<br />CHRIS<br />Everyone knows who you are.<br />SARA<br />Everyone knows everyone. Give me a<br />tour Chris.<br />Sara puts her arm out debutante-style and Chris takes the<br />bait as Jay-Z’s “Money Ain’t a Thing” kicks in.<br />THE TOUR -<br />We glide in Sara’s POV up the stairs, passing tapestries made<br />by Dead Monks in Normandy, live bodies lying against Ming<br />vases, a GIRL pressing a cell phone to each ear, abandoned<br />bottles of Heinekin, mini-DVD players, and impressionist<br />paintings that frame long legs dangling Prada shoes over the<br />edge of the mezzanine...<br />SARA (cont’d)<br />How long has your family had this<br />place?<br />CHRIS<br />My mom says, “this house has<br />history.” I guess the Rothschilds<br />owned it in the early 1900’s and<br />they sold it to a famous stock<br />trader who supposedly blew his<br />brains out in the library when-<br />SARA<br />(cutting him off)<br />How many bedrooms?<br />Rising levels, they pass little CLUSTERS OF KIDS scattered<br />about, their mass is swallowed by the expanse of the mansion.<br />Everyone they pass checks Sara out.<br />9.<br />CHRIS<br />Seven--Then my great grandfather<br />Claudius Kenton got it. He was<br />supposedly a real player-<br />SARA<br />Kitchens?<br />CHRIS<br />Two.<br />SARA<br />Keep going.<br />CHRIS<br />Then my grandfather, he had land<br />out the yin yang. He passed it on<br />to my dad-<br />SARA<br />Then you’ll get it?<br />CHRIS<br />I guess and my bro Claude-<br />SARA<br />And then our children.<br />Chris looks at Sara. Is she serious? They reach the 4th Floor<br />Landing, Coldplay’s “A Rush of Blood to the Head“ echoes down<br />the hallway as...<br />SARA (cont’d)<br />How big is the staff Chris?<br />...The Camera moves off the duo and tracks through a room<br />where ten KIDS lounge on couches watching 75” Plasma<br />pornography. KID IN SUNGLASSES rests one hand on the exposed<br />left breast of GIRL IN BLACK PARTY DRESS, absentmindedly<br />fingering her mother’s pearls...<br />...KID in PLAID TIE talks to a KID IN CORONA CAP holding a<br />supersized bottle of Wolfschmidz Vodka aloft like the liberty<br />torch.<br />KID IN PLAID TIE<br />Kill the artists and somnambulate<br />the masses with vapid pop. It’s a<br />conspiracy man. We lost Cobain,<br />Hendrix, Elliot Smith and got<br />Nelly, Blink 182 and Britney.<br />Murder dressed up as suicide man.<br />10.<br />KID IN PLAID TIE(cont'd)<br />The FBI, CIA. MTV. They’re all in<br />on it...<br />Corona Cap nods thoughtfully as the camera tracks out the far<br />door where Chris continues giving Sara the tour...<br />SARA<br />You should have invited more<br />people.<br />...In the hallway Chris opens a door revealing two bodies<br />making out, silhouetted against an enormous NEON BLUE FISH<br />TANK. We leave Sara and Chris behind and move in toward...<br />INT. PIRANHA ROOM - CONTINUOUS<br />...the entwined couple, camera holding directly above the<br />girl, JESSICA, 16, fearless eyes, athletic body. In one swift<br />move she flips the boy over, sitting astride his chest,<br />leaving us staring down at...<br />CHARLIE, 18, handsome. Wild eyes that have lived beyond their<br />years.<br />JESSICA<br />You think my thighs are too big?<br />Charlie feels one of them, impressed. Shakes his head no.<br />JESSICA (cont’d)<br />Two hundred meter breast stroke<br /> 1.25 split.<br />Charlie’s cell RINGS to the tune of “Beethoven’s 5th.”<br />Jessica jumps up to look at the fish.<br />CHARLIE<br />Yo Lionel, I’ve been waiting on<br />your call--Pardon me.--Just chill--<br />I haven’t been avoiding you, I’ve<br />had commitments with--stuff.--See<br />you there.<br />Charlie clicks off with a sigh.<br />CHARLIE (cont’d)<br />Wanna go to JFK, fly to the Keys<br />and freak everyone out by<br />disappearing?<br />JESSICA<br />You’re wasted.<br />11.<br />CHARLIE<br />I’m serious. My parents have this<br />sailboat but they’re in Madagascar<br />or something so we could just<br />vanish. You sail, don’t you?<br />JESSICA<br />Yes, but I can’t go.<br />Charlie turns pure innocence.<br />CHARLIE<br />Why not?<br />JESSCIA<br />I’ve got yearbook and prom<br />committee, I edit the Dalton<br />Experience, I tutor kids in Harlem<br />and I’ve got lunch with my mom this<br />Sunday.<br />CHARLIE<br />I see.--Well then I gotta bounce.<br />He holds up a small baggie of white powder.<br />CHARLIE (cont’d)<br />A gift. Only do it in small doses.<br />Shit’s powerful.<br />He hands it to her.<br /> JESSICA<br />Thanks. What’s your name?<br />CHARLIE<br />Charlie. What’s yours?<br />EXT. YORK AVE. - NIGHT<br />White Mike watches a group of KIDS, white, 10-12, a rainbow<br />of North Face Parkas, smoking cigarettes and huddling around<br />a GARBAGE CAN ON FIRE. White Mike’s cell RINGS.<br />CALLER ID - Charlie<br />INT. TAXI LEXINGTON AVE. - SAME TIME<br />The wind blows Charlie’s hair as he rides uptown.<br />CHARLIE<br />Pick up man. Come on Mike. Pick up.<br />12.<br />EXT. YORK - SAME TIME<br />White Mike pockets the phone. The kids stoke the fire with<br />newspaper.<br />INT. TAXI ON LEXINGTON - SAME TIME<br />CHARLIE<br />(into phone)<br />I know you’ve got no patience for<br />this but shit is happening, cousin.<br />Monstrous, bewildering shit and I<br />need to see you. So call me back<br />fast aright?<br />(beat)<br />Hey Mike, I saw the Pop Gun Man in<br />the park today.<br />Charlie pulls a PEARL-HANDLED GUN from his pocket.<br />DRIVER<br />My friend, can you put the window<br />up? It’s too cold.<br />Charlie pockets the gun and leaves the window down.<br />INT. BATHROOM CHRIS AND CLAUDE’S TOWNHOUSE - SAME TIME<br />Jessica checks her behind in the mirror, satisfied with the<br />way her low rider jeans expose her Calvin Klein underwear. DJ<br />Dangermouse sampling the “Gettysburg Address” plays over the<br />house speakers.<br />HOUSE DUB (O.S.)<br />That from these honored dead we<br />take increased devotion to the<br />cause--<br />She rolls up a fifty, leans over the marble countertop where<br />the contents of Charlie’s gift is arranged in one long white<br />line. She snorts the powder, her eyes opening wide....<br />HOUSE DUB (cont’d)<br />To that cause for which they gave<br /> the last full measure of devotion--<br />She stares at the faucet. It sparkles and looms large. She<br />sits back on the toilet and begins to say the words along<br />with the dub.<br />13.<br />JESSICA<br />That we here highly resolve that<br />these dead shall not have died in<br />vain vain vain--<br />A drop of water hangs miraculously off the faucet’s edge.<br />JESSICA (cont’d)<br />But in a larger sense, we cannot<br />dedicate--<br />The door handle glistens.<br />JESSICA (cont’d)<br />We cannot consecrate--<br />The tiles on the floor are spectacular triangles.<br />JESSICA (cont’d)<br />We cannot hallow this ground.<br />Jessica falls face first, passing out, frozen euphoric grin<br />toward camera.<br />EXT. PAPAYA KING 86TH AND 3RD - SAME TIME<br />Hunter emerges from a taxi, taking the receipt from the<br />driver. He faces White Mike who waits in the neon glow of the<br />Papaya King.<br />WHITE MIKE<br />Huntergatherer, you’ve been fucking<br />up again.<br />HUNTER<br />This is true Consigliore.<br />WHITE MIKE<br />Let’s see the damage.<br />White Mike checks out the cut on Hunter’s face. Hunter opens<br />his coat, blood on his t-shirt etc.<br />WHITE MIKE (cont’d)<br />You forgot your Henry Clay?<br />HUNTER<br />Negotiation was not an option.<br />WHITE MIKE<br />Didn’t work so well in the Civil<br />War either.<br />14.<br />EXT. HARLEM - JEFFERSON HOUSING PROJECTS - NIGHT<br />Nana carries his basketball, passing a sign- “WELCOME TO<br />JEFFERSON HOUSING.” Hearing VOICES, he peers around the<br />corner where...<br />...Charlie, in blue puffy Northface, faces LIONEL, 28,<br />dangerously confident, wearing a long leather overcoat. They<br />stand under the yellow streetlight between the jungle gym and<br />the snow-covered monkey bars.<br />LIONEL<br />Gimme the money man.<br />Charlie fumbles nervously in his pockets.<br />LIONEL (cont’d)<br />You better have brought that shit,<br />you little white junkie ass.<br />CHARLIE<br />Okay. You don’t have to insult me<br />man. I’ve got your money--<br />Charlie pulls out the PEARL HANDLED REVOLVER, aiming it at<br />Lionel’s gut.<br />CHARLIE (cont’d)<br />Just hand over the shit Lionel.<br />LIONEL<br />You better be ready to kill me<br />nigga cuz if you don’t, I’ll find<br />your ass and kill you twice.<br />Charlie’s hands, yellow in the streetlight, shake badly.<br />CHARLIE<br />Don’t worry man. You’re never gonna<br />find me. Just give me the shit and<br />I’m ghost.<br />LIONEL<br />Just hold the piece down. I got<br />what you want.<br />Lionel reaches into deep pockets, removing baggies filled<br />with white powder. Charlie takes, lowering his gun...<br />...Lionel seizes the moment, throwing snow from the monkey<br />bars into Charlie’s face and pulling his own LASER NINE<br />MILLI, focusing a red light that captures desperate fear in<br />Charlie’s eyes a moment before the gun EXPLODES...<br />15.<br />...IN SLOW MOTION, Charlie’s body flies back, blood pouring,<br />mixing with the feathers spilling out of his parka, floating<br />through the air. The sound of a BASKETBALL BOUNCING ON<br />CONCRETE breaks us from the trance--PAN to the frightened boy<br />who dropped the ball. Nana RUNS...<br />...three steps and Lionel tackles him. The red laser light<br />finds Nana’s eyes begging Lionel not to do what Lionel does.<br />Cut to Black: The SHOT REVERBERATES...<br />EXT. MOLLY’S HIGH-RISE LEXINGTON AVE. - SAME TIME<br />Come up on a RED FLYING INDEX CARD AIRPLANE lit by the white<br />Xmas lights above the street.<br />Leaning her head out from her 32nd Floor Apartment is MOLLY,<br />17, the kind of eyes that look at you and make you ashamed of<br />your cynicism. She watches disappointed as her creation dives<br />and crashes just outside her apartment building.<br />EXT. LEXINGTON AVE. - SAME TIME<br />Hunter and White Mike walk down Lex sipping Papayas.<br />WHITE MIKE<br />7T23, 8J78, and 3M12.<br />HUNTER<br />How do I know you’re not making<br />them up?<br />WHITE MIKE<br />You don’t. Your last taxi was 6Y43.<br />Hunter reaches for the receipt from the Taxi he rode to the<br />Papaya King. CLOSE ON - #6Y43. Hunter smiles. They walk in<br />silence, then...<br />HUNTER<br />My father says if I don’t get into<br />Harvard, I have to go to Dartmouth.<br />WHITE MIKE<br />Well shit--<br />Pointing to a deli on the corner...<br />WHITE MIKE (cont’d)<br />Daddy. Isn’t that the McCullough<br />School of Physics?<br />Hunter points to Orsay’s Restaurant, red sign lit up...<br />16.<br />HUNTER<br />And on your left, son, McCullough<br />Dormitories.<br />White Mike points straight ahead where an NYPD police car<br />crosses 73rd...<br />WHITE MIKE<br />Directly ahead of you, Hunter’s<br />fucked if he goes to Dartmouth.<br />HUNTER<br />Thus, Hunter sent Harvard the<br />finest application essay in<br />collegiate history.<br />WHITE MIKE<br />No doubt.<br />HUNTER<br />You should apply Mike. With your<br />grades they might even overlook<br />your entrepreneurial skills in<br />street economics.<br />White Mike shrugs.<br />HUNTER (cont’d)<br />We’d be the same year.<br />White Mike’s cell RINGS.<br />WHITE MIKE<br />Be there in ten.<br />(he clicks off)<br />‘Tis the season.<br />Hunter looks White Mike straight in the eye.<br />HUNTER<br />In the sage words of Headmaster<br />Wenchler “potential wasted is a<br />crime that will go punished.”<br />WHITE MIKE<br />Good luck at Dartmouth.<br />HUNTER<br />Ouch.<br />WHITE MIKE<br />Try not to kick any ass on the way<br />home.<br />17.<br />Hunter watches White Mike take a few steps then...<br />HUNTER<br />Seen Charlie lately?<br />This is a bad subject. White Mike shakes his head.<br />HUNTER (cont’d)<br />He’s in the city. Called me. Said<br />he finished that skateboarding film<br />he’s been making forever. Wanted me<br />to see it but I think what he<br />really wanted was cash.<br />WHITE MIKE<br />I’ll see you Hunter.<br />Hunter watches White Mike go.<br />INT. CHINATOWN TRINKET SHOP - SAME TIME<br />Claude’s hand taps on the glass, pointing to a knife.<br />The PROPRIETOR, a small middle-aged Asian Woman, tired eyes,<br />reaches for an especially long knife...<br />PROPRIETOR<br />Look. A butterfly.<br />She spins her wrist and a metallic SWISH foreshadows the<br />blades opening out like a butterfly. Light bounces off the<br />blades and across Claude’s eyes.<br />CLAUDE<br />Beautiful. Well done.<br />Tobias watches as Claude points to another. The Proprietor<br />puts her hands up, the universal “demonstration over” signal.<br />TOBIAS<br />Claudius, let’s move on.<br />Claude spreads his ostrich-skin wallet wide - Countless<br />hundreds. Impressed, the Proprietor reaches underneath the<br />counter.<br />TOBIAS (cont’d)<br />I’m bored with Wingwangtown. Come<br />on. We’ll catch a midnight movie in<br />the Village.<br />18.<br />CLAUDE<br />Tobias, you’re being rude to this<br />nice woman.<br />The demonstration begins. A symphony of Weapons:<br />NUNKCHAKUS AND THROWING STARS - Which she retrieves from<br />inside a box of Chinese dolls.<br />A BOLA WITH BRASS ORBS - She clacks the brass together then<br />holds the sphere against Claude’s cheek. He smiles.<br />A DOUBLE-EDGED SWORD - She carefully pulls off the cloth and<br />demonstrates.<br />Claude applauds. Tobias watches his friend.<br />EXT. HUNTER’S APARTMENT - SAME TIME<br />Hunter’s doorman, SAMUEL, 40’s, picks up Molly’s airplane<br />from the sidewalk then steps over to the trashcan, adding it<br />to a growing pile of index card airplanes.<br />Hunter passes on the way in, nodding at Samuel.<br />EXT. HARLEM - JEFFERSON PROJECTS PLAYGROUND - NIGHT<br />Crime scene, flashing police lights. DETECTIVE DUMONT, black,<br />jaded, 40’s, examines an OHIO ID - repeating Buckeye<br />Hologram, bearing CHARLIE’S PHOTO...<br />DETECTIVE DUMONT<br />(sarcastic)<br />This one’s from Ohio.<br />DETECTIVE KAMINSKI, 20’s, white, on the verge of jaded...<br />DETECTIVE KAMINSKI<br />This one’s from Oregon.<br />DETECTIVE DUMONT<br />Great.<br />OFFICER, female, 20’s, approaches, passes a basketball to<br />Dumont.<br />OFFICER<br />Looks like we found the black kid’s<br />mom. Says her boy was playing ball<br />at the Rec Center on 127th.<br />NANA’s MOTHER, 30’s, hysterical, is held by TWO OFFICERS.<br />19.<br />NANA’S MOTHER<br />No, my baby, not my baby, not my<br />Nana, NAAANNAAA, Oh lord, not my<br />boy.<br />She looks Dumont dead in the eye with a sudden calm.<br />NANA’S MOTHER (cont’d)<br />Why my Nana, why my boy, WHY?<br />Detective Dumont wishes he had the answer.<br />INT. TAXI PARK AVE. - SAME TIME<br />White Mike listens to Charlie’s message as he rides.<br />CHARLIE (V.O.)<br />So call me back fast aright?--Hey<br />Mike, I saw the Pop Gun Man in the<br />park today.<br />White Mike clicks off and hits #1 on speed dial.<br />INT. LIONEL’S BLACK BMW X5 - SAME TIME<br />The Black BMW that pulled up for White Mike under the icicle<br />bridge. Lionel drives, “Beethoven’s 5th” competing with<br />Coltrane’s “Ascension.”<br />Lionel opens the glove box revealing Charlie’s ringing phone<br />and pearl-handled pistol. Lionel turns the phone off, closes<br />the glove box and kicks up the Coltrane.<br />EXT. PARK AVE. - PRESENT TIME<br />White Mike stands on the corner watching the taxi pull away.<br />WHITE MIKE<br />Charlie. It’s your cousin. Hit me<br /> back.<br />EXTREME CLOSEUP - WHITE MIKE’S EYES - the reflection of the<br />Taxi # - 3X79.<br />INT. LIBRARY CHRIS AND CLAUDE’S TOWNHOUSE - SAME TIME<br />Sara sits with Chris and a group of stoned KIDS, bearing<br />identical been-seen-done-everything-now-what faces, on a deep<br />leather couch, beneath a thirty foot wall of books. They pass<br />a joint.<br />BOLBOCK, 17, trying for Jack Osborne look.<br />20.<br />BOLBOCK<br />You misunderstand me. I’m not<br />saying we don’t feel these<br />connections. What I’m saying is we<br />mistake them for what they are,<br />momentary chemical reactions.<br />CHRIS<br />What about people who meet and<br />immediately know they were meant to<br />be together?<br />Chris puts his hand on Sara’s arm. She lets him.<br />GIRL 1<br />I know I have a soul mate.<br />GIRL 2<br />You’re all full of shit. All this<br />crap, this intellectualizing about<br />connection is something we can do<br />because we’re PRIVILEGED. The real<br />world doesn’t have time for<br />existential crisis.<br />BOLBOCK<br />Spoken like a girl with a lifetime<br /> charge account at Bergdorfs.<br />She blows Bolbock a kiss, follows it up with the finger.<br />BOY 2<br />He’s crude but he’s right. We<br />create these connections to protect<br />us from the painful truth.--We’re<br />like islands close enough to see<br />but too far to apart to touch.<br />GIRL 3<br />It’s so tragic.<br />STONED KID IN BASEBALL CAP<br />I’m an island that’s gonna inherit<br />an island in the South Pacific.<br />Laughter.<br />GIRL IN BLACK PARTY DRESS<br />Hey Sara, aren’t you supposed to be<br />in St. Barths?<br />Sara ignores her, whispering in Chris’ ear.<br />21.<br />SARA<br />There’s one room I haven’t seen.<br />Chris smiles.<br />INT. HUNTER’S APARTMENT - SAME TIME<br />Track with Hunter as he walks through his hallway, heavy deep<br />wood tones. Old Money. Passing the library where his father<br />sits facing away from us before a CRACKLING FIRE...<br />HUNTER’S FATHER<br />Hunter. Bring me a glass, I’ll pour<br />you a scotch.<br />HUNTER’s FATHER, 55, 6’ 4”, exudes power, guttural voice,<br />pours his son a Dewar’s. BACH’S FUGUE IN D MINOR “The Little”<br />plays low on the stereo.<br />HUNTER<br />I’m kind of tired, Dad.<br />Hunter sits in the semi-darkness.<br />HUNTER’S FATHER<br />The Linds are having their small<br />gathering on New Year’s Eve.<br />HUNTER<br />Dad, I’ve got plans.<br />HUNTER’S FATHER<br />You’ll have ample time to drink<br />with your friends, Hunter. One of<br />us has always been there, and your<br />mother and I will be out of the<br />country...<br />HUNTER<br />Dad-<br />HUNTER’S FATHER<br />...And wear the suit we got you for<br />Christmas, Hunter.<br />Hunter averts his eyes. The fire CRACKLES.<br />INT. CHRIS’ BEDROOM - SAME TIME<br />Posters of Biggie, Wu-Tang on the walls, DMX’s “Where’s the<br />Hood At” on the flat screen. Chris dims the lights, sits on<br />the bed. Sara chooses the Herman Miller swivel.<br />22.<br />SARA<br />Your parents are away for a few<br />more days right?<br />CHRIS<br />Until the 2nd.<br />SARA<br />We should throw a party.<br />CHRIS<br />This is a party.<br />SARA<br />I mean a real party. A New Year’s<br />Party.<br />CHRIS<br />I’m not sure it’s such a great<br />idea.<br />Sara gets up and sits down close to Chris on the bed.<br />SARA<br />Are you kidding? It’s an<br />inspiration. I could get everyone<br />to come. Everyone that matters.<br />CHRIS<br />I don’t think so.<br />Sara leans over, kisses Chris, quickly pulling away.<br />CHRIS (cont’d)<br />I should really ask my bro Claude.<br />He’s sort of a freak about stuff<br />like this.<br />Sara kisses him deeply, tongue in his mouth. Chris shakes.<br />SARA<br />Little Chrissie doesn’t need<br />permission does he?<br />CHRIS<br />I--I--<br />Hand moving up his leg...<br />CHRIS (cont’d)<br />--don’t want it to be too big.<br />Unsnapping a button on his Diesels...<br />23.<br />SARA<br />Don’t you want to have a big party?<br />She straddles him, going in for the kill...<br />SARA (cont’d)<br />The biggest party ever.--A<br />legendary party. Page 6, W. The<br />kind of party people lie and say<br />they went to.<br />Chris speaks but no sound emerges.<br />SARA (cont’d)<br />Is that a yes?<br />Chris nods. He reaches out to pull her to the bed but ends up<br />kissing the covers.<br />Sara stands over him.<br />EXT. PARK AVE. - CENTER ISLAND - SAME TIME - INTERCUT<br />White Mike walks in between the lighted trees along the<br />center Island on Park Ave. He talks into his cell.<br />WHITE MIKE<br />Cut into the flaps?<br />INT. MOLLY’S APARTMENT - SAME TIME - INTERCUT<br />Molly in bed, landline to her ear.<br />MOLLY<br />And paperclipped the nose and threw<br />into the wind.<br />WHITE MIKE<br />Imperfect science. All we can do is<br />try to emulate the birds...<br />Molly lies on her back, her black eyes catch the light.<br />WHITE MIKE (cont’d)<br />...One of these times, you’ll catch<br />an updraft in the Lexington canyon.<br />MOLLY<br />Come down to Coney Island with me<br />this weekend? I was thinking of<br />taking some photos of the<br />transvestite hookers.<br />24.<br />He lies.<br />WHITE MIKE<br />New Year’s weekend. Restaurant’ll<br />be mobbed. My dad’s starting to<br />rely on me.<br />MOLLY<br />So you’re glad you took the year<br />off to learn the business?<br />INT. HUNTER’S APARTMENT - HALLWAY - SAME TIME<br />Hunter walks through the Hallway, pausing in the foyer. Taped<br />to the wall - MCCULLOUGH ITINERARY - Air France to Paris,<br />Shuttle to Chamonix. Beulerat Chateau. We push in on the<br />words...<br />INT. HUNTER’S ELEVATOR - MOMENTS LATER<br />Hunter rides the elevator. He looks up at the ceiling and<br />gives the finger to the in-house camera.<br />EXT. 73RD STREET - MOMENTS LATER<br />Hunter walks along beneath Christmas lights that decorate the<br />street.<br />INT. TAXI JESSICA AND CHRIS - LATER - NIGHT<br />Chris and Jessica, Red Bull in her hands, ride in the back of<br />a taxi.<br />JESSICA<br />I always hated those pussies who<br />act all wasted. Now I’m one of<br />them.<br />CHRIS<br />Still high?<br />Jessica shakes her head, sips from the Red Bull.<br />JESSICA (cont’d)<br />All I remember is this feeling. It<br />was like--total clarity.--I could<br />write the most amazing application<br />to Wesleyan on this stuff.<br />CHRIS<br />Maybe you shouldn’t do it again.<br />25.<br />JESSICA<br />Chris, you gotta promise not to<br />tell anyone.<br />CHRIS<br />Don’t worry, I won’t ruin Jessica<br />Brayson’s immaculate rep.<br />Taxi pulls up outside a Pre-War on Park Ave. Jessica puts a<br />twenty through the glass.<br />JESSICA<br />Keep that for the round trip.<br />Driver nods. Jessica kisses Chris on the cheek.<br />JESSICA (cont’d)<br />Thanks for taking me home Chris.<br />And--thanks for not trying to fuck<br />me or anything when you found me<br />passed out. You’re a good friend.<br />EXT. PARK AVE. - DAWN<br />White Mike walks along a mostly deserted Park Ave. In the<br />distance, a lone DOORMAN salts the sidewalk. White Mike<br />raises his arm to hail a taxi.<br />INT. TAXI ON PARK AVE. - DAWN<br />The TAXI DRIVER, Pakistani, talks on the cell. White Mike<br />looks at the PHOTO OF THE DRIVER’S FAMILY above the meter<br />then out the window...<br />THE CENTER ISLAND ALONG PARK AVE. - white lights line the<br />trees...<br />YOUNG WHITE MIKE (O.S.)<br />Don’t leave, tell me a story.<br />...become jagged constellations reflected in White Mike’s<br />eyes...<br />WHITE MIKE’S MOTHER (0.S)<br />I’ll tell you a story that has no<br />ending.<br />INT. YOUNG WHITE MIKE’S BEDROOM - 7 YEARS EARLIER - NIGHT<br />YOUNG WHITE MIKE 11, gazes up at WHITE MIKE’S MOTHER, 34, her<br />head balding from chemotherapy, her deep blue eyes a genetic<br />match for her son’s, sits at the edge of his bed.<br />26.<br />WHITE MIKE’S MOTHER<br />If a butterfly died over a field in<br />Brazil and fell to the ground and<br />caused a tiny blade of grass to<br />bend which caused a mouse to move<br />which caused an antelope to start<br />which caused the birds to shout<br />which caused the trees to shake<br />which caused the rain to fall then<br />everything might change even all<br />the way around the world, even all<br />the way here.<br />She playfully touches his nose.<br />WHITE MIKE’S MOTHER (cont’d)<br />Did a butterfly do that?<br />She turns off the light. He waits until she’s by the door<br />silhouetted against the blue light.<br />YOUNG WHITE MIKE<br />Did the butterfly die?<br />INT. TAXI - PRESENT TIME - DAWN<br />White Mike speaks to the driver.<br />WHITE MIKE<br />Busy tonight?<br />TAXI DRIVER<br />Too cold.<br />WHITE MIKE<br />You prefer the night shift?<br />TAXI DRIVER<br />My brother. He’s got wife and kids.<br />Drives day.<br />Silence then...<br />TAXI DRIVER (cont’d)<br />You come home from party?<br />WHITE MIKES<br />Work.<br />OUTSIDE THE TAXI - We hold as the taxi moves away from us,<br />heading north along Park Ave.<br />27.<br />TAXI DRIVER<br />What do you do?<br />WHITE MIKE<br />Deliveries.<br />TAXI DRIVER<br />At night?<br />WHITE MIKE<br />Anytime.<br />...The camera rises. A RED SKY over the city announces dawn<br />and the WHITE LIGHTS on the trees lining the avenue TURN OFF.<br />SUPERIMPOSE : DECEMBER 28TH<br />EXT. HUNTER’S APARTMENT - DAWN - DAY 2<br />Hunter, coffee in hand, still in last night’s clothes, passes<br />his doorman Samuel, and enters his lobby where Detectives<br />Dumont and Kaminski stand waiting.<br />KAMINSKI<br />Hunter McCullogh.<br />HUNTER<br />(wary)<br />Yeah.<br />Kaminski flashes a BADGE.<br />KAMINSKI<br />This is Detective Dumont. I’m<br />Kaminski. Mind if we ask you a few<br />questions?<br />Dumont doesn’t wait for an answer.<br />DUMONT<br />What’s that on your sneakers?<br />Hunter looks down at the dried blood on his KG’s. Before he<br />knows what's happening, Kaminski and Dumont grab his arms-<br />HUNTER<br />What the fuck?<br />CLICK - A PAIR OF HANDCUFFS - on Hunter’s wrists.<br />KAMINSKI<br />You’re under arrest.<br />28.<br />HUNTER<br />For what?<br />DUMONT<br />For the murder of two teenagers in<br />Harlem.<br />HUNTER<br /> WHAT--I got--in--a fight--WHAT--<br />The cops pull him toward their car. Hunter shouts to a<br />receding Samuel...<br />HUNTER (cont’d)<br />SAMUEL--call my parents.<br />SAMUEL<br />A car took them to JFK hours ago.<br />BACH’S FUGUE IN D MINOR, “The Little,” heard previously on<br />Hunter’s father’s stereo comes up as Dumont and Kaminski<br />place Hunter in the backseat and shut the door.<br />INT. UNMARKED POLICE CAR - MINUTES LATER<br />The car pulls away. Hunter looks out the window at the<br />pristine foyers and doormen at blue attention. For a moment,<br />we wonder if that’s the hint of a smile on his face.<br />EXT. REFRESHMENT AREA - WOHLMAN ICE SKATING RINK CENTRAL PARK<br />- DAY<br />ANDREW, 16 black, a chocolate covered raisin in a bowl of<br />milk stands in the refreshment area checking out the HOLIDAY<br />CROWD of skaters a few yards away. He talks into his cell.<br />Queen Latifah on the tinny speakers.<br />ANDREW<br />Hunter you flaked.--I’ll be the<br />black guy on the ice in case you<br />can’t find me.<br />Three girls trailing matching CANDY CANE SCARVES glide by.<br />Jessica skates with tired eyes in-between her friends LAYLA<br />16, intense, and CLAIRE, 16 bookish. We glide along...<br />ON THE ICE -<br />LAYLA<br />How about “Yesterday’s Tomorrow?”<br />29.<br />CLAIRE<br />Please move to Queens. “Simply<br />unforgettable?<br />The words shoot past Jessica’s eyes from either direction.<br />CLAIRE<br />“Shades of Perfection.”<br />LAYLA<br />“Mad About Plaid.”<br />CLAIRE<br />“Becoming.”<br />LAYLA<br />“Recorded Live.”<br />CLAIRE<br />“Then and Wow.”<br />LAYLA<br />“Lasting Impressions.”<br />CLAIRE (cont’d)<br />“In the blink of an eye.”<br />LAYLA<br />I’ve got it.--The title of the 2005<br />Dalton Yearbook is “Connected to<br />the Past-Unleashed into the<br />Future.”<br />CLAIRE<br />I like it.<br />LAYLA<br />Jessica?<br />No answer.<br />CLAIRE<br />President of the yearbook staff.<br />Hello?<br />Jessica digs her skates into the ice, stopping quickly. Her<br />friends follow suit.<br />JESSICA<br />You guys go ahead. I’m sure you’ll<br />pick the right one.<br />Jessica skates off.<br />CLAIRE<br />What?<br />LAYLA<br />What?<br />U2’s “New Year’s Day” comes on over the rink speakers as<br />Jessica begins to weave recklessly between the holiday<br />skaters, drunk on the speed. We HOLD ON HER FACE, the picture<br />of youth and vitality but in her eyes...<br />30.<br />...Just ahead Andrew reaches to unclip his RINGING CELL. Bad<br />move. He goes down hard. Jessica swerves. TOO LATE. Her<br />skates cut his forehead. He SCREAMS, clutching his head.<br />Blood swirls on the ice. Jessica drops down fast...<br />JESSICA (cont’d)<br />Fuck. I’m so sorry.<br />U2’s music fills Jessica’s head...<br />RINK SPEAKERS (V.O.)<br />Everything changes on New Year’s<br /> Day--<br />Jessica stares transfixed at the PUDDLE OF RED spreading on<br />the white ice.<br />INT. WHITE MIKE’S BEDROOM - SAME TIME<br />White Mike uses an old fashioned silver scale to weigh green<br />buds, the only sign of color or life in the room. He reaches<br />for a pair of BINOCULARS that lie next to an INDEX CARD<br />AIRPLANE.<br />POV THROUGH THE BINOCULARS - THE HIGH RISE ACROSS THE WAY<br />THE JOYCE’S - A red-headed MOTHER AND FATHER, and their<br />equally red-headed, SON, 11, and DAUGHTER, 13, having<br />breakfast.<br />White Mike watches as Mrs. Joyce pours orange juice for her<br />family. The son appears to glance over at White Mike.<br />A KNOCK at the door.<br />WHITE MIKE<br />One sec.<br />White Mike puts the binoculars down and quickly hides the<br />weed. WHITE MIKE’S Father, 50, dark complexion, bearing no<br />resemblance to his pale son, pokes his head in.<br />WHITE MIKE’S FATHER<br />Lunch at the restaurant today<br />stranger?<br />WHITE MIKE<br />Sure.<br />His dad starts to leave then turns back.<br />31.<br />WHITE MIKE’S FATHER<br />And Mike. Binoculars are for<br />watching birds not chicks.<br />DUMONT (0.S)<br />What's the name of the white kid<br />you killed?<br />INT. INTERROGATION ROOM - PRECINCT 122 - SAME TIME<br />Hunter sits in the spare fluorescent-lit room. Kaminski sits<br />across from him. Dumont watches.<br />HUNTER<br />I didn’t kill anyone.<br />DUMONT<br />Forensic’s got your blood all over<br />the merry go round Hunter. Why<br />don’t just give it up and confess<br />now?<br />Hunter smiles. He seems to be enjoying this.<br />HUNTER<br />That hardly proves your case. I<br />already told you we fought at the<br />rec.<br />KAMINSKI<br />Where are your parents Hunter?<br />HUNTER<br />I don’t know. On holiday.<br />KAMINSKI<br />Strange. They don’t leave contact<br />information?<br />(off Hunter’s shrug)<br />Maybe with the help?<br />HUNTER<br />Everyone’s off for the New Year’s<br />holiday.<br />KAMINSKI<br />Doorman, nice fellow Samuel, says<br />you’re a good kid, says you used to<br />beat off in the elevator. Got “IT”<br />in on tape.<br />Hunter turns red.<br />32.<br />KAMINSKI (cont’d)<br />Probably got some nice elevators.<br />All those mirrors and stuff.<br />HUNTER<br />When can I get out of here?<br />DUM<br />Samuel says you left the house<br />around 1:15 A.M. Where’d you go?<br />EXT. YORK AVE. - THE PREVIOUS NIGHT<br />Hunter walks along York Ave., late on the previous night. He<br />passes the same GARBAGE CAN ON FIRE that White Mike saw. The<br />KIDS stoke the fire.<br />HUNTER (O.S.)<br />For a walk.<br />DUMONT (O.S.)<br />All night?<br />HUNTER (0.S)<br />Is that against the law?<br /> KAMINSKI (O.S.)<br />Where’d you dump the gun Hunter?<br />Hunter approaches the fire. He tosses the contents of his<br />pockets into the can, including his father’s ITINERARY.<br />INT. INTERROGATION ROOM - PRESENT TIME<br />HUNTER<br />(smiles)<br />What gun?<br />DUMONT<br />Hunter, what does you father do?<br />HUNTER<br />Does that matter?<br />DUMONT<br />I’m just trying to figure a kid<br />with holes in his story a mile wide<br />who waives his rights and looks at<br />a double murder charge like he’s in<br />the sack with Jennifer Lopez.<br />33.<br />HUNTER<br />You’ve no witnesses, no weapon, no<br />motive-<br />DUMONT<br />What’s your father do?<br />HUNTER<br />He’s an attorney.<br />INT. - ELEANOR’S COFFEE SHOP - SAME TIME<br />The sunlight is white light on Molly as she sits, curled up<br />on a couch, engrossed in E.L Doctorow's " Ragtime," at this<br />Upper East Side coffeehouse.<br />At the other end of the couch, Tobias drinks a Mocha Latte<br />and stares at Molly, barely pretending to read his “Maxim.”<br />Tobias turns to an article headlined: “3 Steps to Getting HER<br />Attention.” As he reads, we hear the sexy voice of the Maxim-<br />Girl that plays in his little mind.<br />MAXIM GIRL VOICE-OVER<br />One: Comment on something she’s<br />wearing. Do not choose something on<br />her chest.<br />TOBIAS<br />Groovy ankle bracelet.<br />Molly’s hand runs instinctively to the Indian bead bracelet<br />just above her Nikes. She smiles.<br />MOLLY<br />Thanks, seven bucks in the Village.<br />MAXIM GIRL VOICE-OVER<br />Two: Make her laugh. Come on you<br />can think of something.<br />TOBIAS<br />Too bad. You could have dropped<br />seven hundred on Madison.<br />Molly barely registers a smile and goes back to her reading.<br />MAXIM GIRL VOICE-OVER<br />Now: No matter what the result.<br />Don’t speak. Wait for her to talk<br />to you. If she doesn’t you’re shit<br />out of luck.<br />34.<br />After a few moments of staring met by silence, Tobias stands,<br />and walks toward the door, coat draped over his arm.<br />MOLLY (O.S.)<br />It's cold out there.<br />Tobias smiles.<br />MAXIM GIRL VOICE-OVER<br />If she does, you’ve got her.<br />EXT. CENTRAL PARK AMPHITHEATER - SAME TIME - INTERCUT<br />White Mike sits on the bench across from the Amphitheater<br />completing a deal with a CUSTOMER, 17 female, in white puffy<br />Northface. On the stage, a lone SKATEBOARDER prepares for a<br />stunt, stacking boards. His cell rings.<br />INT. JESSICA’S ROOM - SAME TIME - INTERCUT<br />Jessica sit cross-legged on her bed amidst her collection of<br />FAO SCHWARTZ BEARS.<br />JESSICA<br />Is this White Mike?<br />WHITE MIKE<br />What do you need?<br />JESSICA<br />I did this stuff last night--<br />It was like ecstacy but not, like<br />coke but--better.<br />White Mike hesitates.<br />WHITE MIKE<br />It’s called Twelve. But I don’t<br />handle it.<br />JESSICA<br />Do you know who does?<br />On the stage the skateboarder rolls toward the jump...<br />WHITE MIKE<br />I’ll get back to you.<br />THE SKATEBOARDER - SLOW MOTION - Airborne, baseball cap<br />pulled tight, eyes closed, lit cigarette dangling, smile on<br />his face, a teenager at one with the moment. He lands clean,<br />White Mike on the cell.<br />35.<br />WHITE MIKE<br />Charlie. Trying you again. Hunter<br />says you’re in the city.--Call me<br />back.<br />INT. - LENOX HOSPITAL ROOM 1443 - SAME TIME<br />Sara, clutching red roses, enters the room and approaches<br />SEAN, large WHITE CAST on his throwing arm courtesy of one<br />totaled Mini Cooper in Chinatown. She kisses him on the<br />forehead and deposits the flowers onto the table.<br />SARA<br />You made the papers but no photo.<br />Just something about a backup on<br />the Williamsburg.--Told ya you<br />should’ve asked for an SUV.<br />Andrew, fifty stitches from the cut made by Jessica’s skates,<br />watches from the next bed.<br />Sean has slits for eyes. He speaks with a heavy Morphine<br />accent.<br />SEAN<br />Weren’t you supposed to be in St.<br />Barths?<br /> (off her nervous look)<br />Your parents bailed again, didn’t<br />they?<br />SARA<br />Did not.<br />(sees Andrew watching)<br />I just couldn’t imagine enjoying<br />myself on the beach while my<br />boyfriend was back here suffering.<br />Dr. K calls it Jewish New York<br />Collective Guilt.<br />SEAN<br />You’re not Jewish.<br />SARA<br />That’s why it’s collective,<br />Einstein.<br />Andrew laughs. Sara notices.<br />SARA (cont’d)<br />Where are your parents?<br />36.<br />SEAN<br />Came and went. Glenda’s here.<br />Sara gives the evil eye to Sean’s nanny GLENDA, black, 50’s,<br />who sits in the corner pretending to read “People.”<br />When she turns back, Sean has drifted off to morphine-land.<br />SARA<br />Seanniee.<br />Andrew seizes the opportunity.<br />ANDREW<br />You’re Sara Ludlow.<br />SARA<br />You know me?<br />ANDREW<br />My sister’s friends with this girl<br />Vanessa who goes to Sacred Heart<br />who knows-<br />SARA<br />Everyone knows everyone.<br />(beat)<br />What happened to you?<br />ANDREW<br />Hockey accident.<br />SARA<br />You don’t look like a hockey<br />player.<br />ANDREW<br />You don’t look like someone who’d<br />pass up a trip to St. Barths.<br />That hurts. No one ever calls her on anything.<br />ANDREW (cont’d)<br />Shit. Sorry. My mom says I gotta<br />learn to control my vicious streak.<br />SARA<br />(smiles)<br />My shrink says the same thing.<br />She hears the music from his headphones.<br />37.<br />SARA (cont’d)<br />Is that Coldplay? I love that disc.<br />Sara sits on Andrew’s bed, hands out. He gives her the<br />headphones then adjusts the covers to hide his erection.<br />EXT. CENTRAL PARK - SAME TIME<br />White Mike buys a pretzel from the ubiquitous PRETZEL MAN,<br />and his SILVER CART and walks away.<br />He tears off a piece and tosses it to the PIGEONS. WINGS FLAP<br />in hungry unision.<br />ABOVE WHITE MIKE’S HEAD - A Red Tail hawk swooping down from<br />the sky heading for the pigeons. It attacks - a pigeon’s<br />feathers shoot off it’s dying body. The Hawk takes off<br />carrying its bounty against the backdrop of the Midtown<br />Skyline.<br />White Mike smiles, watching the Hawk until it veers out of<br />sight.<br />INT. CHRIS AND CLAUDE’S TOWNHOUSE - STAIRWAY - SAME TIME<br />Molly trails Tobias through the hallway at Chris and Claude’s<br />townhouse.<br />HER POV -<br />CHRIS, through the library door, shadowboxing, boxing gloves<br />cartoonish on his skinny arms. The COACH in Camo Pants...<br />COACH<br />On your toes Chris.<br />CLAUDE through his door lit only by the flat screen playing<br />the HISTORY CHANNEL something in his hands we can’t see...<br />TOBIAS<br />Claudius, I’m introducing Molly to<br />our flesh-eating friends.<br />Claude speaks without turning around.<br />CLAUDE<br />Tobias brings all his ladies to see<br />the Piranhas. He thinks the<br />violence turns them on.<br />Tobias rolls his eyes and motions Molly down the hallway.<br />Camera moves toward Claude who stands and approaches his<br />closet...<br />38.<br />...opening the doors revealing a SHRINE OF WEAPONS, swords,<br />daggers, a helmet, the necessities of a young Samurai. He<br />takes a handful of Brooks Brother’s slacks and tosses them to<br />the floor making room for the GLISTENING SWORD in his hands.<br />PIRHANA ROOM - MOMENTS LATER<br />Molly sits tentatively at the edge of the bed, her face is<br />bathed in the phosphorescent blue of the TANK. Tobias, fills<br />a one-hitter engraved with a gold leaf.<br />TOBIAS<br />Temperature controlled, light<br />regulated, a diet of pate, filet<br />mignon, the occasional hydroponic.<br />Life is good for these children.<br />(offering the one hitter)<br />Smoke?<br />Molly, shakes her head. Tobias shrugs and lights.<br />MOLLY<br />Are you going to school next year?<br />TOBIAS<br />My dad wants me to go to Princeton<br />because he donates beaucoup cash<br />but I’d rather keep modeling and<br />you know--just go with the flow.<br />Tobias, pulls off his shoes and socks, getting comfortable.<br />Molly looks at his PAINTED TOES.<br />TOBIAS (cont’d)<br />Besides, why should I feel guilty I<br />get a rush when I see myself in<br />print?<br />MOLLY<br />(sarcastic)<br />I like your toes. They’re pretty.<br />Maybe I'll take some photos of you.<br />--So you can get a rush.<br />TOBIAS<br />Right on.<br />Tobias jumps up.<br />TOBIAS (cont’d)<br />..Politic with the fish. I wanna<br />show you something.<br />39.<br />Tobias leaves. Molly leans close to the aquarium.<br />HER EYES THROUGH THE GLASS - We hear a loud SPLASH and<br />we’re...<br />EXT. THE OCEAN - THE BAHAMAS - 3 YEARS EARLIER<br />...in the ocean 3 years earlier. Molly, kicking her feet over<br />the edge of the boat.<br />White Mike in the water. He pulls off his mask and snorkel.<br />MOLLY<br />Go ahead. I’m not feeling so well.<br />WHITE MIKE<br />Having a shitty time doesn’t get<br />you revenge against your father for<br />blowing you off.<br />Molly considers. SPLASH.<br />MOLLY AND WHITE MIKE IN THE WATER - Their faces are wet and<br />close together.<br />WHITE MIKE (cont’d)<br />Concentrate on what you see<br />underwater. Always makes me feel<br />better.<br />He dives. She dives.<br />UNDERWATER - His peaceful eyes watch the fish. Molly watches<br />White Mike, his strong lean body, moving effortlessly...<br />TOBIAS (O.S.)<br />Watch this.<br />PIRAHNA ROOM - PRESENT TIME<br />Tobias’ voice snaps Molly back to reality. He releases a<br />small cooked QUAIL into the tank then clicks a button on his<br />digital watch.<br />ONE - The piranhas rip at the flesh. TWO - The hunks of meat<br />disappear - THREE - The fish ram the corpse into the glass.<br />Molly jumps back. Tobias smiles.<br />TOBIAS<br />A record.<br />40.<br />INT. KITCHEN - WHITE MIKE’S FATHER RESTAURANT - SAME TIME<br />Ecuadorian COOKS, Mexican DISHWASHERS, greet White Mike with<br />much love, high-fives, the slap of a towel etc., as he passes<br />through this bustling kitchen, stopping at the swinging doors<br />that lead to the dining room.<br />POV THROUGH THE GLASS - the restaurant of the moment,<br />beautiful CUSTOMERS laughing, eating. At the corner booth,<br />White Mike’s father, seated with two MEN, 30’s, one white,<br />one black, wearing the fabric of success.<br /> CUT TO:<br />INT. KITCHEN - WHITE MIKE’S FATHER RESTAURANT - MINUTES LATER<br />Steam pouring off the burner. WAITER’s, shouting food orders.<br />White Mike standing, eating a plate of pasta at the steel<br />counter. His father approaches.<br />WHITE MIKE’S FATHER<br />I thought you stood me up.<br />WHITE MIKE<br />You looked busy.<br />WHITE MIKE’S FATHER<br />Not at all. I’m sitting with two<br />execs at “Bad Boy,” P Diddy’s<br />company. They’re telling outrageous<br />tales, adventures in “sin” Tropez<br />and all that nonsense. Come on.<br />It’s a kick.<br />WHITE MIKE<br />I thought you wanted to catch up.<br />WHITE MIKE’S FATHER<br />Yeah. We will.--I just wanted to<br />show my son off. People are<br />starting to think I invented you.<br />WHITE MIKE<br />I’m alright here. Ramon took care<br />of me.<br />WHITE MIKE’S FATHER<br />Sure I can’t tempt you? Got a table<br />of “Uvesi” jean girls getting<br />smashed on Dom. The Brazilian-<br />White Mike interrupts.<br />41.<br />WHITE MIKE<br />I saw a red tail kill a pigeon in<br />the park today.<br />WHITE MIKE’S FATHER<br />Yeah?<br />WHITE MIKE<br />Mom would’ve loved it.<br />Uncomfortable silence.<br />WHITE MIKE’S FATHER<br />I should get back. --I’ll try to<br />get home early. Okay?<br />His father starts to walk off.<br />WHITE MIKE<br />It’s “Evisu” dad.<br />White Mike puts on his long coat and walks out, palming a<br />cannister to few of the Ecuadorian cooks without waiting for<br />payment.<br />LINE COOKS<br />Gracias Blanca Miguel!<br />White Mike walks out the door.<br />EXT. CENTRAL PARK EAST - LATER - DAY<br />White Mike walks along looking up at the cornices and<br />parapets above the Pre-Wars.<br />EXT. CENTRAL PARK ZOO - LATER -DAY<br />White Mike walks toward the entrance to the zoo. He talks on<br />the cell. <br />WHITE MIKE<br />Hunter. Checking in. Lemme know if<br />you hear from Charlie. Goddamn<br />kid’s vanished again.<br />THREE BOYS, 11, rush by. White Mike watches as one of the<br />boys, slips and falls, his RED PARKA sharp against the white<br />of the snow and we are...<br />EXT. CENTRAL PARK ZOO - EIGHT YEARS EARLIER - SPRING - DAY<br />...MOVING FAST, hovering above YOUNG HUNTER, 11, YOUNG<br />CHARLIE, 10, AND YOUNG WHITE MIKE who run in prep school<br />42.<br />uniforms, ties flapping against their young chests. The<br />BRIGHT COLORS OF SPRING rush by.<br />DORRINE, 30’s, Haitian Nanny - wears a GOLD RING on every<br />finger.<br />DORRINE<br />(West Indian accent)<br />Hunter, Charlie, Michael, It’s past<br />time to go.<br />The POP GUN MAN, 50’s, big fat mustache, pushes his SILVER<br />CART into frame and the camera rushes to greet him. He towers<br />above the trio bearing colored balloons, swords and...<br />POPGUN<br />Little men, I’ve got big guns.<br />DORRINE<br />This is the last time.<br />THREE PAIRS OF YOUNG HANDS - Reach for their POP GUNS,<br />rudimentary weapons with corks for bullets.<br />EXT. CENTRAL PARK RESERVOIR - LATER -DAY<br />Barren trees, the desolate beauty of Central Park in Winter.<br />SILENCE. White Mike walks alone.<br />Out of this vista, Molly appears, her red scarf exploding<br />against the grey sky. White Mike smiles.<br />MOLLY<br />I need to induct someone into the<br />hypocrites club.<br />WHITE MIKE<br />Who?<br />MOLLY<br />Me.<br />WHITE MIKE<br />It’s not that easy to make the cut.<br />MOLLY<br />I met this guy, a “model,” today at<br />Eleanor’s. He asked me to go with<br />him to his friend’s house to see<br />their killer fish. And I went.<br />WHITE MIKE<br />Killer fish aren’t hypocrites.<br />43.<br />White Mike is completely relaxed around Molly, almost a<br />different person. They walk around the reservoir.<br />MOLLY<br />What about the fact that he’s a<br />vapid model who stands for<br />everything we despise and I still<br />went along with him. Plastic<br />chicks, Prada bags, treating the<br />maid badly, the mansion of greed,<br />the whole thing.--So I’m already<br />having an out of body experience<br />and then he tries to get me stoned.<br />WHITE MIKE<br />(alarmed)<br />You smoked?<br />MOLLY<br />No. This guy I know says we’re born<br />with hardly enough brain cells to<br />obliterate the few we’ve got.<br />WHITE MIKE<br />Smart fellow.<br />White Mike should be president of the hypocrites club.<br />MOLLY<br />Well, do I get into the dreaded<br />club?<br />WHITE MIKE<br />I don’t think so.<br />MOLLY<br />Why not?<br />WHITE MIKE<br />You’re attracted to beauty and<br />repelled by superficiality. That’s<br />complexity not hypocrisy.<br />MOLLY<br />You make my shallowness sound so<br />appealing.<br />WHITE MIKE<br />You’re not going to see this loser<br />again are you?<br />MOLLY<br />Michael are you jealous?<br />44.<br />WHITE MIKE<br />Come on. We’re friends.<br />That hurts.<br />MOLLY<br />He asked me to come and “chill” at<br />his house later.<br />WHITE MIKE<br />What’d you say?<br />MOLLY<br />I said maybe.--He said I need to<br />learn to live in the moment--and he<br />paints his toes.<br />WHITE MIKE<br />He paints his toes?<br />MOLLY<br />Blue.<br />White Mike’s cell RINGS. CALLER ID - Lionel<br />WHITE MIKE<br />That’s my Dad. I really should be<br />getting back to the restaurant.<br />MOLLY<br />So I should tell this guy to fuck<br />off right?<br />White Mike can’t make eye contact.<br />WHITE MIKE<br />Gotta go your own way..<br />Molly is crushed.<br />INT. INTERROGATION ROOM - DAY<br />Through the glass of an interrogation room we see but cannot<br />hear ARTURO, the kid from the rec who egged on the fight,<br />talking animatedly to Dumont and Kaminski. Camera moves left<br />finding Hunter...<br />HUNTER’S INTERROGATION ROOM -<br />...exhaustion setting in, Hunter stares vacantly at the<br />graffiti on the table. He looks up when hears the DOOR<br />OPENING. Kaminski and Dumont enter wearing grave faces.<br />45.<br />DUMONT<br />Arturo Barrera? Know him?<br />HUNTER<br />Arturo? From the rec?<br />DUMONT<br />Arturo can place you at the<br />Jefferson Projects a few minutes<br />before the neighbors heard the<br />shots.<br />For the first time Hunter shows fear.<br />HUNTER<br />He’s lying.<br />KAMINSKI<br />Why would he lie?<br />HUNTER<br />Maybe because he never gets into<br />the game.<br />Kaminski laughs.<br />DUMONT<br />Arturo says you told him on a few<br />occasions that you were “gonna kill<br />that nigga Nana”.--Blood, witness<br />and motive Hunter. You want to<br />confess now?<br />HUNTER<br />I want an attorney.<br />Camera pushing in on Hunter...<br />DUMONT (0.S)<br />Forensics found a substance similar<br />to cocaine in the dead white kid’s<br />blood. Only it’s not cocaine. What<br />were you selling Hunter? You want<br />to tell us the name of the white<br />kid you killed? His ID says he’s<br />Maurice Charles from Ohio but<br />Hunter, there is no Maurice Charles<br />from Ohio.<br />Camera reaches Hunter, imagining the worst.<br />46.<br />EXT. LEXINGTON AND 91ST - DUSK<br />Lionel commands the pavement in his leather overcoat and<br />swagger. White Mike walks with him.<br />LIONEL<br />See ya man over there. He’s holdin.<br />Got that shit inside his boots.<br />A WHITE DEALER, 25, black boots, walks up Lexington.<br />LIONEL (cont’d)<br />Watch this.<br />Lionel WHISTLES.<br />Dealer turns his head. Lionel raises his cell to his ear in<br />mock conversation. Spooked, the dealer speeds up, making a<br />sharp right at the corner.<br />Lionel laughs a deep baritone.<br />WHITE MIKE<br />What was the giveaway?<br />LIONEL<br />Dealers can see their own.<br />White Mike catches a glimpse of his own reflection in the<br />passing window, wondering if it’s that obvious.<br />WHITE MIKE<br />You seen my cousin?<br />LIONEL<br />Who?<br />WHITE MIKE<br />Charlie. You know. Guy who<br />introduced us.<br />Lionel doesn’t hesitate.<br />LIONEL<br />Nope.<br />IN THE DISTANCE - Jessica in wrap-around Oakleys, sipping a<br />Papaya and pacing. She sees White Mike and Lionel approaching<br />and tosses the juice in the garbage.<br />EXT. THE PAPAYA KING - MOMENT LATER<br />Lionel towers over Jessica. White Mike is next to him.<br />47.<br />LIONEL<br />How much?<br />JESSICA<br />A thousand.<br />JESSICA’S SHAKING HANDS - pull many hundreds from her pocket.<br />LIONEL<br />Get that shit down. What the fuck’s<br />wrong with you?<br />Jessica pockets the money. She looks close to tears.<br />WHITE MIKE<br />It’s okay. Let’s walk.<br />They walk, White Mike brokering in the middle.<br />WHITE MIKE (cont’d)<br />Just relax. No one will see.--Roll<br />it up in the palm of your hand.<br />(she rolls)<br />Pass it to me.<br />THE ASSEMBLY LINE - In Jessica’s eyes - White Mike passes<br />CASH to Lionel who sends five white BAGGIES back to Jessica.<br />She stops, looks Lionel square in the eyes. She’s not shaking<br />anymore.<br />JESSICA<br />Can I get your number Lionel?<br />Because you know--it might be<br />easier if it’s direct next time.<br />White Mike cringes. Jessica passes her cell to Lionel who<br />punches in his number.<br />Jessica walks away.<br />WHITE MIKE<br />Girl looks too clean for that shit.<br />LIONEL<br />Clean ain’t got shit to do with it.<br />INT. SARA’S BEDROOM - NIGHT<br />Sara, Gabby and Shelly are on the carpet, leaning over a<br />tattered LIFE MAGAZINE. Sara’s sister CYNTHIA, 15, glasses,<br />on the bed. Sara turns the pages and we see...<br />48.<br />PHOTOS - An off-the-hook party of the Young and Beautiful<br />circa 1940. Black and white decadence.<br />SARA<br />They called it “the party of the<br />century.”<br />GABBY<br />Like the Great Gatsby.<br />SHELLY<br />It was such a simple time.<br />CYNTHIA<br />Oh please, there was rampant<br />racism, massive hypocrisy, the<br />women had like no rights-<br />SARA<br />Shut up, Cynthia.<br />(she turns the page)<br />And this is my grandmother. Wasn’t<br />she just breathtaking?<br />Camera pushes in toward a photo of SARA’S GRANDMOTHER at 17,<br />a dead ringer for her granddaughter. She wears a stunning<br />BLACK DIOR.<br /> GABBY<br />She’s you.<br />SARA<br />Check this girls. My mother was<br />born October 7, 1960.<br />She stands up for the punch line.<br />SARA (cont’d)<br />Exactly 9 months after the party.<br />CYNTHIA<br />Oh my God, Grandma was a ho.<br />SARA<br />No Cynthia. Grandma was smart.<br />Sara closes the magazine. On the cover, PARTY OF THE CENTURY.<br />SARA (cont’d)<br />Between the three of us. How many<br />people do we know?<br />49.<br />SHELLY<br />Um. Everybody.<br />SARA<br />Exactly. Everyone.<br />She lifts her Nokia, Shelly and Gabby do likewise and the<br />SOUND OF DIGITAL PHONE KEYS takes us to...<br />INT. THE PARTY VIRUS - SAME TIME<br />A GIRL 16, at the PAPAYA KING reaches for her ringing cell<br />and listens, PAN to two BOY’s 17, outside the window pressing<br />their T-Mobile sidekicks, PAN across the street where a GROUP<br />of TEENS exits the BEST BUY, cells to their ears...<br />MALE AND FEMALE VOICES (V.O.)<br />New Year’s bash, 2 East Madison,<br />Chez Kenton, Sara Ludlow, Sacred<br />hotties, gonna be fly, be there<br />when the ball drops...<br />...TEENS outside BERGDORFS, riding in TAXIS, on the steps of<br />the GUGGENHEIM....<br />INT. JESSICA’S ROOM - SAME TIME<br />...Jessica, drenched in sweat, hand outstretched, reaches for<br />the FLASHING LIGHT ON HER MOTOROLA, giving up, she pulls<br />herself back to the bed, leaning over the mirror between her<br />legs and snorting two waiting lines of TWELVE in rapid<br />succession, then falling straight back into the waiting arms<br />of her FAO SCHWARTZ BEARS, frozen euphoric grin on her face.<br />INT. TAXI - SAME TIME<br />White Mike reads the name and number of the TAXI DRIVER,<br />Indian, 50’s. A small PAPIER MACHE BIRD hangs from the rear<br />view mirror.<br />WHITE MIKE<br />How do you pronounce your name?<br />TAXI DRIVER<br />Snakar Munaim. Sane-car-moon-eyeeem.<br />Is hard no?<br />WHITE MIKE<br />Yeah. I always try to get the names<br />right.<br />TAXI DRIVER<br />You know any Indian people?<br />50.<br />WHITE MIKE<br />No is the truth.<br />TAXI DRIVER<br />What is your name?<br />White Mike’s cell VIBRATES - TEXT MESSAGE - NY EVE 2 E. 90th<br />Ludlow.<br />WHITE MIKE<br />White Mike.<br />TAXI DRIVER<br />Is that Irish?<br />WHITE MIKE<br />Yeah.<br />Silence.<br />WHITE MIKE<br />You like birds?<br />Driver reaches out and touches the bird hanging off the rear<br />view.<br />TAXI DRIVER<br />Oh. No, my son made in school.<br />WHITE MIKE<br />I saw a hawk kill a pigeon in the<br />park today.<br />TAXI DRIVER<br />Poor pigeon.<br />OUT THE WINDOW - GIRLS, 20, group-hugging.<br />WHITE MIKE<br />Hard to have sympathy for them.<br />They move in packs and they’re<br />spoiled, too lazy to fly. Hawks are<br />still predators, even in the city.<br />TAXI DRIVER<br />Why hawks in New York?<br />WHITE MIKE<br />The canyons between the buildings<br />remind them of the mountains.<br />White Mike opens his window. He leans his head way out and<br />points straight up...<br />51.<br />LOOKING UP FROM A MOVING TAXI - BUILDINGS leading to a dark<br />sky.<br />WHITE MIKE (cont’d)<br />Look. It’s like living in a canyon.<br />Trapped air between the buildings<br />creates lift and floats em. Makes<br />it easy to fly.<br />REVERSE ANGLE - looking down on White Mike’s face staring up.<br />Lights of the city wash across his face.<br />White Mike pulls his head in and rolls the window up.<br />EXT. 73RD STREET - MORNING<br />HIGH ABOVE 73RD STREET - A lock down camera. The soft early<br />morning light hits the conspicuously barren street. A “John<br />Philip Sousa March” accompanies as...<br />...A DOORMAN holds open the door and a NANNY emerges onto the<br />street, pushing her Graco XLT stroller. A few moments later<br />another NANNY pushing her stroller...<br />...NANNIES pushing strollers emerge from every door and every<br />building on the street until...<br />...The block, once empty, is filled with the procession of<br />the Nannies, heading east.<br />SUPERIMPOSE - DECEMBER 29TH<br />INT. JESSICA’S BEDROOM - DAY 3<br />Jessica stares at her tired, hungover reflection in the<br />mirror. She pulls on a pair of Nike shorts and picks up her<br />JUMP ROPE.<br />JESSICA<br />One hundred, ninety-nine, ninetyeight...<br />She decides to torture herself and stick on ninety-eight...<br />JESSICA (cont’d)<br />Ninety-eight, ninety-eight, ninetyeight....<br />INT. HALLWAY CHRIS AND CLAUDE’S TOWNHOUSE - MORNING<br />Claude walks through the hallway, pausing outside Chris’<br />doorway where...<br />52.<br />CHRIS<br />Yes I tipped everyone Mom. How was<br />the helicopter ride?...<br />...Chris, back to Claude, flexes in the mirror, headset phone<br />on his ears. Claude listens.<br />CHRIS (cont’d)<br />...I’m having a couple of people<br />over.--Nothing big.--When are you<br />coming home?...<br />Chris catches a glimpse of Claude in the reflection. As Chris<br />speaks we hold on CLAUDE’S FACE.<br />CHRIS (0.S) (cont’d)<br />...Claude’ll be up in Connecticut<br />by then.--You wanna talk to him?<br />He’s right here. I’m sure he--<br />alright, okay, have fun, bye.<br />Chris clicks off then turns to face his brother. A moment of<br />eye contact then Claude walks away.<br />INT. WHITE MIKE’S BEDROOM - SAME TIME<br />POV THROUGH THE BINOCULARS - The red-haired boy across the<br />way, standing by the window, staring at White Mike.<br />White Mike puts the binoculars down and opens his window. He<br />picks up an INDEX CARD AIRPLANE, leans way out and throws -<br />the plane swirls, does a “three sixty” and dives toward the<br />taxis below.<br />The boy smiles. White Mike’s phone VIBRATES.<br />INT. WHITE MIKE’S FATHER’S RESTAURANT - DAY<br />JESSICA’s MOM, 30’s, gorgeous, fastidious, sits across from<br />her daughter in a booth at White Mike’s father’s restaurant.<br />JESSCIA<br />I just got a few B’s, Mom. Let’s<br />not make it into a media circus.<br />JESSICA’S MOM<br />Did you study hard?<br />JESSCIA<br />Yes Mom.<br />JESSICA’S MOM<br />Did you work with the tutor?<br />53.<br />JESSICA<br />Yes Mom.<br />JESSICA’S MOM<br />Maybe you should cut down on your<br />extracurriculars, coaching the kids-<br />JESSICA<br />(frustrated)<br />No way.<br />She looks down then reaches out.<br />JESSICA (cont’d)<br />What do you really know about me<br />Mom?<br />JESSICA’S MOM<br />I know you’re very busy. You’re<br />editing the yearbook and writing<br />for the school paper and that<br />you’re planning to go to Wesleyan-<br />JESSICA<br />That’s not me. That’s what I do.<br />JESSICA’S MOM<br />You’ll get back on track.<br />JESSICA<br />Can we just please talk about<br />something real?<br />JESSICA’S MOM<br />Well, what would you like to talk<br />about?<br />JESSICA<br />For instance, how you feel about<br />Dad going off to Hong Kong all the<br />time?<br />JESSICA’S MOM<br />His business is more and more<br />overseas. The economy is global.<br />JESSICA<br />Get a clue Mom. You don’t think<br />he’s flying forty hours roundtrip<br />every month just for business do<br />you?<br />54.<br />JESSICA’S MOM<br />He’s flying there so we can live<br />comfortable lives. And for that<br />matter--so you can have that nice<br />straight nose on your face.<br />Jessica looks down. A few uncomfortable moments then...<br />JESSICA’S MOM (cont’d)<br />Finish up Jessica. I was thinking<br />we’d stop at Bergdorfs on the way<br />home and pick you up that Blue<br />Parka, the one you so subtly stared<br />while we were Christmas shopping.<br />--If that’s alright with you?<br />Jessica looks up, the good daughter again.<br />JESSICA<br />Thanks mom.<br />EXT. MADISON AVE. - SAME TIME<br />White Mike walks among the SHOPPERS on Madison. An off-screen<br />phone RINGS to the tune of “Beethoven’s 5th.” White Mike<br />quickly scans the crowd for the source-<br />A TEEN IN A PUFFY PARKA - reaching for his cell. White Mike<br />moves fast weaving past shoppers, grabbing the kid’s arm. The<br />TEEN, 17 turns to face White Mike. It’s not Charlie.<br />TEEN IN PUFFY PARKA<br />What the fuck man?<br />White Mike stares at the kid with those penetrating eyes. The<br />kid backs down, walking away as Sara comes toward us,<br />shopping bag on each arm. She enters a boutique.<br />INT. HUNTER’S CELL - PRECINCT 122 SAME TIME<br />Hunter alone in his holding cell. He looks around at the<br />spare windowless room, bunk beds, graffiti on the walls. He<br />lays down on the lower bunk, grimacing. He reaches under the<br />covers and removes the culprit, a tiny piece of the brick<br />wall, broken off by a previous angry occupant. Hunter takes<br />the WRITING TOOL and begins to cut into the wall...<br />He chisels an “M’ then an “A”...Off-screen, a CLANG echoes...<br />INT. HALLWAY TOBIAS’ MADISON AVE. APARTMENT - SAME TIME<br />...White Mike RINGS the bell of a door at the end of the<br />majestic hallway. A NANNY, 60’s, opens the door.<br />55.<br />WHITE MIKE<br />I’m here to see Tobias.<br />Nanny motions White Mike into the foyer.<br />NANNY<br />(into an intercom)<br /> Tobias, a young man to see you.<br />Tobias walks toward White Mike in shorts and flip flops.<br />TOBIAS<br />Ah, the medicine man. I’m Tobias.<br />White Mike reaches in his pocket, catching a glimpse of<br />Tobias’ BLUE TOES. The color draining fast from White Mike’s<br />face...<br />MOLLY<br />Michael. What are you doing here?<br />White Mike looks up at Molly’s huge and vanishing smile.<br />TOBIAS<br />(to Molly)<br />You guys know each other? And you<br />said you’d never smoked herb.<br />MOLLY<br />You’re--delivering--the weed?<br />Molly’s black eyes burn a hole through White Mike.<br />MOLLY (cont’d)<br />Michael you are the biggest<br />hypocrite that ever lived.<br />White Mike stares back at her unable to speak. A long moment<br />of crushing truths.<br />White Mike turns ice. He hands a cannister to Tobias and<br />walks out the door.<br />EXT. CITY STREETS - MINUTES LATER<br />White Mike walks, his coat flowing behind him.<br />The gargoyles watch him from above. He disappears down the<br />steps of the Subway.<br />INT. SUBWAY - MINUTES LATER<br />White Mike moves down a steep stairway inside the station.<br />56.<br />INT. SUBWAY STATION - MINUTES LATER<br />The train comes, the RATTLING is deafening, mirroring the<br />sounds inside of White Mike’s head.<br />INT. MADISON AVE. BOUTIQUE - DAY<br />Tobias on the PLASMA SCREEN walking the runway. Flashbulbs<br />popping. Pull back to reveal Sara throwing a tantrum at<br />SALESGIRL, 20’s.<br />SARA<br />I had it on hold. You fucked up,<br />now it’s your responsibility.<br />SALESGIRL<br />Actually, you didn’t put it on<br />hold. You said you’d be back.<br />SARA<br />Find me another one.<br />CUSTOMERS are watching.<br />SALESGIRL<br />I’ve already called our other<br />boutiques.<br />(beat)<br />Let me show you the new Zac Posens.<br />They’ll be perfect with your figure-<br />SARA<br />Don’t patronize me. I know what I<br />want. That was the perfect dress<br />for New Year’s Eve.<br />EXT. MADISON AVE. - MOMENTS LATER<br />Sara storms out of the boutique carrying two shopping bags,<br />one from CHANEL and one from BERGDORFS.<br />She stops at a window, looking at her reflection, trying to<br />regain her composure.<br />An OLD WOMAN, 80’s, in mink, appears in Sara’s reflection.<br />The woman is grotesque, deep sunken eyes, balding, skin<br />pulled back from layers of plastic surgery.<br />Sara turns to face the woman. The woman is holding one bag<br />from BERGDORFS and one from CHANEL.<br />Sara sees her future. The woman sees her past.<br />57.<br />Sara starts to cry. She walks away from the old woman,<br />pulling her headphones on. Coldplay comes up, Andrew’s CD.<br />Sara punches her cell...<br />SARA<br />You’re home from the hospital?<br />ANDREW (O.S.)<br />Who’s this?<br />SARA<br />Me, Sara.<br />ANDREW (O.S.)<br />Sara Ludlow?<br />SARA<br />I was just listening to your CD.<br />(beat)<br /> Wanna to get something to eat?<br />EXT. CONEY ISLAND - SAME TIME<br />White Mike, in his long coat and gray sweatshirt, blends<br />seamlessly with the ghosts of Coney Island, the skeletal<br />silhouette of the Parachute Tower, the Wheel of Wonder.<br />A lone TRANSVESTITE HOOKER limps along then, seeing White<br />Mike, remembers her style and flaunts it for a moment before<br />giving it up.<br />INT. TOBIAS’ PARK AVENUE APARTMENT - SAME TIME<br />Molly, eyes swollen, her small figure disappearing into the<br />giant white couch, drains a glass of cranberry juice in one<br />long drink.<br />TOBIAS (0.S)<br />You feel better?<br />Tobias sits close to her, opening his model “portfolio” to<br />photos of himself.<br />TOBIAS (cont’d)<br />I thought we could edit my book and<br />it might take your mind off things.<br />Molly starts to cry again.<br />TOBIAS (cont’d)<br />Oh shit58.<br />MOLLY<br />I don’t know why I’m so upset. I<br />mean, he’s just a drug dealer not a<br />criminal.<br />(she laughs)<br />I mean not in the real fucked up<br />sense...<br />EXT. CONEY ISLAND BOARDWALK - SAME TIME<br />White Mike sits and looks out at the ocean. A few birds dive<br />and swoop for dinner.<br />MOLLY (O.S.)<br />...And the truth is we never really<br /> had anything between us...<br />Bring up the sound of CRASHING WAVES and we are...<br />EXT. THE HAMPTONS BEACH - 3 YEARS EARLIER - WINTER - DAY<br />...A deserted beach in the Hamptons, turbulent ocean. Molly<br />and White Mike in parkas and scarves. Molly waving her arms<br />wildly as she speaks.<br />MOLLY<br />He disappears for a week and then<br />like nothing happened he calmly<br />sits at the dinner table and tells<br />us he went off and got married to<br />this Laura, this lady who works at<br />the library shelving books for<br />Chrissakes, he’s going on and on<br />about how they share this passion<br />for existentialism and how they’re<br />going to have a love child, he said<br />love child, my father, and then he<br />just starts to cry and my mom is<br />throwing shit at him-<br />Molly takes off her scarf and throws it. The wind catches it.<br />White Mike picks it off the surf...<br />MOLLY (cont’d)<br />And the thing is he really believes<br />all of that shit happened. But we<br />found out he was sleeping at the<br />library, alone in the stacks,<br />surrounded by all these books and<br />it’s all so FUCKED.--He won’t take<br />his medicine and he’ll never get<br />better. He’s never going to be my<br />father again.<br />59.<br />Molly tears off her coat, throwing it to the sand. White Mike<br />reaches for it as Molly sprints ahead...<br />WHITE MIKE<br /> Molly.<br />...pulling off her sweater, her shirt. White Mike runs after<br />her...<br />...She runs into the freezing ocean in bra and panties,<br />diving underwater. White Mike follows, diving under, parka<br />and all.<br />They emerge together, White Mike holding her tight and<br />guiding her back to the shore.<br />WHITE MIKE (cont’d)<br />Molly this world is one fucked up<br />cruel place.<br />MOLLY<br />(quietly)<br />And cold.<br />They laugh. He picks her Parka up off the sand and wraps it<br />around her. And they kiss, an awkward teenage wet and frozen<br />kiss.<br />EXT. CONEY ISLAND - PRESENT TIME<br />White Mike stares out at the ocean remembering.<br />MOLLY (O.S.)<br />We didn’t see each other for a<br />while after that. And when we did,<br />neither of us said anything about<br />it.<br />INT. TOBIAS’ PARK AVENUE APARTMENT - SAME TIME<br />Tobias’ hand is on Molly’s leg.<br />TOBIAS<br />That’s a real drag Molly.<br />We realize that Molly and White Mike were having the same<br />memory, at the same time.<br />MOLLY<br />Why couldn’t he tell me who he was?<br />60.<br />TOBIAS<br />He figured you were too pure to get<br /> him.<br />Sometimes even a vapid model gets it right. Molly smiles.<br />MOLLY<br />Let’s get stoned.<br />EXT. CONEY ISLAND ARCADE - SAME TIME<br />White Mike walks along the boardwalk, checking his phone-<br />22 MISSED CALLS.<br />He enters the arcade.<br />INT. CONEY ISLAND ARCADE - CONTINUOUS<br />PAN past chirping video games and rolling skeeballs finding<br />HIPPIE GIRL, ethnic, 14, flared pants, large stone-laden<br />cross, waiting beneath the flashing white lights of the selftitled<br />game-DANCE DANCE REVOLUTION. A Techno Samba comes up.<br />She moves her feet, following the lit arrows.<br />A short LATINO BOY, 15, holding her jacket, stands watching<br />next to White Mike.<br />The Samba speeds up. The girl’s chain swings wildly off her<br />chest, her feet fly out from under her. She closes her eyes,<br />hitting every arrow. She puts her hands down on the machine<br />and does cartwheels, a teenager at one with the moment.<br />Music stops. She gets off the machine, and looks White Mike<br />in the eyes.<br />INT. SKYLINE DINER - SAME TIME<br />Sara pounds her burger. Andrew sits across from her in the<br />booth, fingers the bandage on his head.<br />SARA<br />Do you have any weed?<br />ANDREW<br />(he lies)<br />Yeah. Little bit.<br />SARA<br />Bring then, okay? Everyone’s<br />bringing something. It’s going to<br />be a famous party. Like that<br />concert in the sixties.<br />61.<br />ANDREW<br />Woodstock.<br />SARA<br />Whatever. So you’re coming?<br />ANDREW<br />So that’s what you want--to be<br />famous?<br />SARA<br />Yeah but not in the cheap Paris<br />Hilton way. More subtle like<br />Caroline Kennedy.<br />ANDREW<br />Seems like an awful lot of work for<br />nothing. I mean everyone’s<br />forgotten eventually.-- Except<br />maybe Kurt Cobain.<br />Something about Andrew allows Sara to let go.<br />SARA<br />I think if I met myself, I’d hate<br />me.<br />ANDREW<br />Why do you say that?<br />SARA<br />Because I’m a narcissistic shallow<br />bitch who manipulates everyone for<br />everything and freaks out royally<br />when I don’t get what I want.<br />(off his look)<br />I mean you wouldn’t even like me if<br />I wasn’t hot right?<br />ANDREW<br />Who said I like you?<br />Sara reaches out and pulls his hand off his bandage.<br />SARA<br />Don’t pick.<br />ANDREW<br />Thanks. I keep forgetting.<br />62.<br />SARA<br />Sometimes I think I’d like to get<br />away from the city. Somewhere where<br />I didn’t have to try so hard.<br />ANDREW<br />Where would you go?<br />SARA<br />Maybe Senegal.<br />ANDREW<br />Senegal?<br />SARA<br />I don’t know. We used to have this<br />driver from Senegal. Ramsey. He was<br />always inviting me to come live<br />with his family. Said I’d be debitched<br />in no time.<br />ANDREW<br />Hard to picture you in Senegal.<br />She smiles.<br />INT. CHRIS AND CLAUDE’S TOWNHOME - SAME TIME<br />Chris stands just outside Claude’s door. Claude sits on the<br />floor, back to his brother, History Channel on the plasma.<br />CHRIS<br />You know I’m having an open house<br />New Year’s?<br />No answer.<br />CHRIS (cont’d)<br />Should be dope Claude, like those<br />parties you used to have.<br />Nothing.<br />CHRIS (cont’d)<br />There’s gonna be a shitload of<br />pussy here. Sara Ludlow is doing<br />the invites.<br />Claude faces Chris.<br />CLAUDE<br /> You know that bitch is using you.<br />63.<br />Chris leaves.<br />INT. TOBIAS’ PARK AVENUE APARTMENT - SAME TIME<br />Tobias and Molly lie on the floor paging through Tobias’<br />portfolio, one hitter and cannister of herb on the table.<br />TOBIAS<br />Here, give me your hand.<br />Tobias pulls her hand down toward the base of his back, just<br />above his ass.<br />TOBIAS (cont’d)<br />I was thinking of getting a tattoo<br />of my initials here, you know at my<br />center of gravity.<br />Molly draws his initials on his skin. Tobias leans over to<br />kiss her. She kisses him back.<br />EXT. 59TH AND 5TH - DAY<br />White Mike emerges from the subway, stepping through the<br />steam from a construction site. He checks his phone -<br />29 MISSED CALLS.<br />INT. JESSICA’S BEDROOM - SAME TIME<br />Jessica is on her bed surrounded by her collection of bears,<br />a mirror between her legs.<br />She puts her head down and does a big line coming face to<br />face with the Teddy Bear.<br />TEDDY BEAR<br />So there’s a lotta shit that goes<br />down in her school huh?<br />Jessica’s eyes widen in disbelief. The Pink Bear chimes in.<br />PINK BEAR<br />Yeah, they all have bad taste in<br />music and they’re all assholes.<br />TEDDY BEAR<br />What about her friends?<br />PINK BEAR<br />Especially her friends.<br />64.<br />GIANT PANDA BEAR<br />Who would you kill first if you had<br />to kill someone there?<br />Jessica’s got the answer.<br />JESSICA<br />I think I’d have to kill that<br />Jessica bitch first. You know I’d<br />take out the nine milli and be like<br />pop pop. Right in the back of her<br />head.<br />PINK BEAR<br />Make her kneel like she does for<br />the blow jobs she gives to all<br />those football assholes.<br />Jessica smiles.<br />JESSICA<br />And I’d be dead and I’d never get<br />to be an honor student at Wesleyan.<br />TEDDY BEAR<br />Or even a bad parent and a shitty<br />wife.<br />GIANT PANDA BEAR<br />Everyone would cry and say what a<br />lovely, lovely girl she was.<br />TINY BEAR<br />So much potential wasted.<br />JESSICA<br />Could we have a moment of silence<br />please for dear sweet Jessica.<br />RAPID CLOSE-UPS - the silent bears.<br />INT. CHARLIE’S APARTMENT - SAME TIME<br />CLOSE ON - A hand wearing five gold rings opening a door.<br />DORRINE, Charlie’s nanny, eight years older than in the<br />" Popgun memory," faces White Mike. They hug, her tiny figure<br />disappearing inside his long coat.<br />DORRINE<br />Michael, so nice to see you.<br />65.<br />WHITE MIKE<br />How are you Dorrine?<br />DORRINE<br />Charlie’s not here. I think he<br />stayed up at Andover for New Years.<br />White Mike tries to hide his disappointment.<br />WHITE MIKE<br />I know.--I left a few books here.<br />Mind if I have a look in his room?<br />DORRINE<br />Go ahead.<br />Dorrine watches White Mike take a few steps then...<br />DORRINE<br />Michael. You never forget anything.<br />She’s got him.<br />DORRINE<br />Is he alright?<br />WHITE MIKE<br />He’s fine Dorrine. He’s just being<br />Charlie.<br />INT. CHARLIE’S ROOM - MOMENTS LATER<br />Charlie’s walls are covered with old movie posters,<br />Ghostbusters, Scarface...<br />White Mike searches through the drawers of Charlie’s desk,<br />finding rolling papers, empty vials, the usual paraphernalia.<br />Frustrated, he rifles through papers on the desk that lie<br />scattered next to the requisite iMac.<br />THE IMAC - ON THE DESKTOP - A Movie Titled: “The Triple<br />Threat.”<br />White Mike CLICKS on the film.<br />EXT. THE HAMPTONS - CHARLIE’S MOVIE - DAY<br />The film opens with a long tracking shot of FEET ON A<br />SKATEBOARD. AT THE DRIVE IN'S " One Armed Scissor" kicks off<br />Charlie’s soundtrack.<br />66.<br />The images in the film are grainy, often the framing cuts the<br />person’s head off. Film student artistic but it carries a<br />deep melancholy.<br />Charlie is on the skateboard.<br />CHARLIE (V.O.)<br />This is a film about the worst<br />skateboarders alive.<br />Charlie tries a small jump and wipes out. He looks up at the<br />camera, smiling, as alive as you can get...<br />CHARLIE’S (V.O.)<br />That’s me Charlie. And this<br />neanderthal is Hunter.<br />Hunter is in a moving car, a big cigar in his mouth, as far<br />away from prison as you can get...<br />CHARLIE<br />And this is my cuz, my hero<br />Michael.<br />White Mike through the windshield of the car, his face<br />explodes into a full frame pixilated smile, happy as you can<br />get...<br />Shots of the trio attempting skateboarding jumps and wiping<br />out everytime as the sun sets on the beach.<br />EXT. THE HAMPTON’S - CHARLIE’S MOVIE - NIGHT<br />A BONFIRE on the beach. A group of TEENS, Molly among them.<br />Molly and White Mike sitting together by the fire, the light<br />explodes in their eyes. Molly, tan, laughing...<br />CHARLIE (V.0.)<br />That’s White Mike’s best “friend”<br />Molly.<br />Charlie turns the camera on himself and makes one-handed<br />quotation marks as he says “friend.”<br />WHITE MIKE<br />Turn the camera off, Charlie. Turn<br />the fucking camera off or I’m going<br />to feed you to the fire-<br />White Mike makes a half-hearted attempt to stand, then sits<br />back down laughing.<br />67.<br />INT. CHARLIE’S BEDROOM - PRESENT TIME<br />White Mike at Charlie’s desk, concentrating on every frame,<br />seeing himself BEFORE HE BECAME WHITE MIKE.<br />INT. THE HAMPTONS - CHARLIE’S MOVIE - NIGHT<br />White Mike, Hunter and Charlie on the porch at night. Offscreen,<br />the sound of WAVES BREAKING. Charlie pulls on a<br />joint, offers to White Mike who declines.<br />HUNTER<br />How come you won’t smoke weed?<br />CHARLIE<br />I think he likes the power it gives<br />him because everyone around him is<br />fucked up while he’s sober.<br />Hunter grabs the camera and ZOOMS on a silent White Mike.<br />CHARLIE (V.O.) (cont’d)<br />Then Mike had to go back to the<br />city because his father was all<br />drunk and shit because his mom was<br />in the hospital.<br />Shots of Hunter and Charlie bored. Hunter and Charlie<br />listless. Trying to skateboard. Laying on their backs.<br />CHARLIE (V.O.) (cont’d)<br />We were the triple threat--<br />INSERT - A STILL PHOTO OF THE TRIO, Charlie in the middle<br />holding up THREE FINGERS...<br />CHARLIE (V.O.) (cont’d)<br />Now we were two. Frankly, it sucked<br />shit. Fuck it. What else was there<br />to do?<br />HUNTER<br />We’re going to New York City.<br />Camera moving toward the New York City skyline, dark and<br />foreboding.<br />HUNTER'S FATHER (O.S.)<br />Hunter can you hear me?<br />68.<br />INT. VISITING ROOM - PRECINCT 122 - INTERCUT<br />Hunter sits in a small fluorescent-lit room, talking on a<br />landline.<br />HUNTER'S FATHER<br />I hear you Dad.<br />INT. HUNTER’S FATHER’S HOTEL ROOM - INTERCUT<br />Hunter’s Father sits on the bed of his hotel room. Snow falls<br />out the window behind him.<br />HUNTER’S FATHER<br />We left our itinerary you know.<br />HUNTER<br />I know Dad.<br />Silence.<br />HUNTER’S FATHER<br />As luck would have it, we’ve been<br />hit by a huge snowstorm.<br />Hopefully I’ll see you tomorrow.<br />Silence.<br />HUNTER’S FATHER (cont’d)<br />I’ve retained the finest criminal<br />attorney in the city Hunter. Worst<br />case, he’ll take you through the<br />arraignment.<br />HUNTER<br />They asked me a lot of questions<br />Dad.<br />HUNTER’S FATHER<br />You knew not to answer?<br />Hold on Hunter’s face. This is revenge.<br />HUNTER’S FATHER (cont’d)<br />Of course you knew not to answer<br />their questions.--Hunter?--Can you<br />hear me Hunter?<br />Hunter’s father realizes his son is not going to answer this<br />question. The snow falls.<br />69.<br />EXT. 5TH AVENUE - SAME TIME<br />Andrew and Sara walk along 5th Ave.<br />SARA<br />I remember all my firsts. First<br />period, first time I got drunk,<br />first trip to Biarritz-<br />ANDREW<br />First kiss?<br />SARA<br />In the bathroom at Wild Goose.<br />After archery. He was a counselor.<br />You?<br />ANDREW<br />My cousin Alicia. On a sailboat in<br />the keys.<br />SARA<br />Your cousin?<br />ANDREW<br />Practice.--First blowjob?<br />Sara smiles.<br />SARA<br />After archery. In the bathroom at<br />Wild Goose.<br />(they laugh)<br />First sex?<br />Sara looks at Andrew. Andrew looks at Sara. Shakes his head.<br />SARA (cont’d)<br />Me either.<br />The virgins smile as they come around the corner...<br />SEAN - being helped from a TAXI into a wheelchair by his<br />nanny Glenda.<br />Sara does a Jekyll-Hyde thing. Runs up to Sean give him huge<br />hug, maneuvering around his ELEPHANTINE CAST.<br />SARA (cont’d)<br />Seanniie. Your home early.<br />Andrew watches then averts his eyes. PAN across the steet<br />finding White Mike hailing a taxi. He gets in.<br />70.<br />We hold as it pulls into a sea of yellow.<br />MESSAGE 1 (V.O.)<br />Rothko gave me the number said to<br />ask for White Mike, I’m at<br />9175432117. Name is Tang.<br />INT. TAXI MONTAGE - NIGHT<br />White Mike sits, phone to ear.<br />MESSAGE 2 (V.O.)<br />Hey dude you were supposed to be<br />here hours ago, 885 Park Ave.<br />SUPERIMPOSE a series of TAXI NUMBERS over WHITE MIKE’S FACE -<br />Various TAXI DRIVERS in the foreground.<br />POVS OF THE CITY - Construction sites, A COUPLE in evening<br />clothes, A HOMELESS WOMAN with torn gloves, a CROWD in front<br />of White Mike’s father’s restaurant.<br />MESSAGE 3 (V.O.)<br />I’m dying, man, dry, the middle of<br />the desert, can’t breath, waterr-<br />MESSAGE 4 (V.O.)<br />White Mike. Bolbock here, looking<br />to score some of this new stuff<br />Twelve.<br />TAXIS - Crossing intersections, changing lanes...<br />INT. TAXI ON LEXINGTON - LATER - NIGHT<br />TAXI DRIVER, 40’s African. His POV -<br />WHITE MIKE IN REAR VIEW MIRROR - on the phone.<br />WHITE MIKE<br />Ten minutes.<br />White Mike clicks off.<br />TAXI DRIVER<br />You got a lot of friends man?<br />WHITE MIKE<br />Not really.<br />TAXI DRIVER<br />(smiles)<br />No? Maybe you got what people want?<br />71.<br />WHITE MIKE<br />Nobody’s got what people want.<br />Silence.<br />TAXI DRIVER (cont’d)<br />Life been cruel to you man?<br />WHITE MIKE<br />Not especially.<br />TAXI DRIVER<br />You got a girl. You a handsome guy.<br />WHITE MIKE<br />No.<br />TAXI DRIVER<br />You should get one.<br />WHITE MIKE<br />(sarcastic)<br />Oh yea. Love is the way out.<br />TAXI DRIVER<br />Maybe not. But it eases the pain<br />along the way.<br />WHITE MIKE<br />You married?<br />TAXI DRIVER<br />I was, my wife she died two years<br />ago.<br />WHITE MIKE<br />Sorry.<br />TAXI DRIVER<br />Why man?<br />WHITE MIKE<br />Because you lost someone you love.<br />TAXI DRIVER<br />I got my memories.<br />THE TUNNEL AT PARK AND 40TH - Taxi entering the tunnel, the<br />light fades off White Mike’s face moving into darkness.<br />HOLD ON BLACK FOR FEW MOMENTS THEN...<br />72.<br />INT. WHITE MIKE’S APARTMENT - LATER<br />CLICK. The light comes on revealing White Mike in his<br />apartment. He walks through the kitchen into the darkened<br />hallway...<br />...He passes his FATHER’s room, door cracked open. His father<br />asleep...<br />WHITE MIKE’S FATHER<br />That you Mike?<br />WHITE MIKE<br />Yeah.<br />Long beat.<br />WHITE MIKE’S FATHER<br />G’night Mike.<br />WHITE MIKE<br />Goodnight Dad.<br />White Mike continues down the hallway entering...<br />INT. WHITE MIKE’S MOTHER’S STUDY - CONTINUOUS<br />...his mother’s old study. The room is basically unchanged<br />since her death. A bunch of half-packed boxes scattered<br />around the room, a mostly empty bookcase.<br />White Mike pulls PHOTOGRAPHS from a box...A TRIO OF HAWKS<br />FLYING AGAINST A GRAY SKY...A HAWK PERCHED ON THE CORNICE OF<br />A PRE-WAR...<br />...HIS MOTHER IN CENTRAL PARK, BINOCULARS PRESSED TO HER<br />EYES, looking skyward. The photo is inscribed: “For Michael” -<br />“Always live the best life you can.”<br />White Mike puts the photographs down.<br />He lays down on the floor and closes his eyes.<br />EXT. LEXINGTON AVE. - MORNING<br />Looking up from the canyons between the buildings at a grey<br />sky.<br />SUPERIMPOSE – DECEMBTH<br />EXT. SKYLINE DINER - DAY 4<br />White Mike stands across from the Skyline Diner.<br />73.<br />HIS POV - Molly and Tobias having breakfast at a window<br />booth.<br />Molly notices White Mike but turns back to Tobias, continuing<br />her conversation.<br />PAN across the street to the ATM where...<br />EXT. LEXINGTON AVE. ATM - DAY<br />Jessica stands nervously waiting.<br />THE ATM SCREEN - Funds unavailable.<br />Jessica quickly presses $300, screws up. Presses the buttons<br />again. Carefully.<br />THE ATM MACHINE - Funds unavailable.<br />She presses the keys again.<br />The machine spits out three twenties. Shit.<br />INT. CHRIS AND CLAUDE’S TOWNHOUSE - MEZZANINE - SAME TIME<br />Sara climbs the stairs barking orders, a HOUSEKEEPER, Gabby<br />and Shelly, with notepad and active pen in tow.<br />SARA<br />We’ll have the candles everywhere.<br />The pillows will be delivered and<br />the liquor. I want one bar on each<br />floor. Gabby will handle the food.<br />Make a note, I need to know where<br />the central house switch is. The<br />sound systems. Chris are you<br /> handling that?--CHRIS<br />Chris comes into the hallway holding up two equally GAUDY<br />VERSACE SHIRTS.<br />Sara’s Nokia rings.<br />SARA (cont’d)<br />Sara.--Oh hi Jessica.--Can’t hear<br />you?<br />She sticks her finger in her throat and mouths “Jessica<br />Brayson” to her friends.<br />74.<br />EXT. LEXINGTON AVE. - SAME TIME - INTERCUT<br />Jessica on the street near a CONSTRUCTION SITE. She shouts<br />over the din.<br />JESSICA<br />(into the phone)<br />I was thinking if you want your<br />party to really go off, you should<br />have some Twelve there, you know,<br />for the guests.<br />SARA<br />That’s an awesome idea Jessica.--Uh<br />huh.--Absolutely.<br />As Sara listens she takes the first shirt from Chris and<br />shakes her head “no.” The second shirt she drops off the<br />Mezzanine.<br />JESSICA ON THE STREET - Jessica clicks off. She jumps up and<br />down, “Yes.” PASSERBY’s look at her.<br />INT. WHITE MIKE’S FATHER’S RESTAURANT - SAME TIME<br />Before lunch, a few BUSBOYS setting tables. White Mike sits<br />across from his father at a corner booth.<br />WHITE MIKE<br />He called a few days ago, said it<br />was urgent. Now I can’t find him.<br />WHITE MIKE’S FATHER<br />So what’s news about that?--<br />Charlie’s like your Aunt Patty,<br />vanishing’s in their genes.<br />White Mike isn’t convinced.<br />WHITE MIKE’S FATHER<br />Remember when he pawned her Fabrege<br />egg and disappeared. Turned out he<br />was living down in the Dominican.<br />WHITE MIKE<br />Mom had to fly down to bring him<br />back.<br />WHITE MIKE’S FATHER<br />How about when she forced him to go<br />to church? Now how’s that for an<br />oxymoron? Charlie in church.<br />75.<br />They both smile at the memory.<br />WHITE MIKE<br />What do you do when someone has<br />complete faith in you and they find<br />out you’re a fraud?<br />For a moment his father wonders if White Mike is referring to<br />him. In the background the MANAGER, Indian, 40’s motioning to<br />White Mike’s father and shaking his head “no.”<br />WHITE MIKE’S FATHER<br />Shit.--Three hundred reserved,<br />Ramons’s getting married and the<br />replacement sous-chef bailed. What<br />am I gonna do?<br />WHITE MIKE<br />Why don’t you take over?<br />Silence. A flash of anger from White Mike.<br />WHITE MIKE (cont’d)<br />When was the last time you cooked<br />Dad?<br />WHITE MIKE’S FATHER<br />We’ve got a table from Vanity Fair<br />and some rapper with a big party,<br />Chingy. I should be out on the<br />floor.<br />WHITE MIKE<br />What happened to you?<br />WHITE MIKE’S FATHER<br />I worked my heart out to get to<br />this place. It’s not a crime for me<br />to enjoy this moment.<br />White Mike has no answer.<br />INT. HUNTER’S CELL - PRECINCT 122 - SAME TIME<br />Hunter watches from the bottom bunk as an OFFICER deposits a<br />black kid, GREGG, 19, wild bloodshot eyes, muttering to<br />himself.<br />GREGG<br />Get the fuck up. Dude going through<br />withdrawal gets the bottom bunk.<br />76.<br />Hunter stands. Gregg sits on the bottom bunk, begins to<br />writhe around, kicking the wall saying “fuckshit<br />motherfucker.” Then...<br />GREGG (cont’d)<br />You know we’re gonna be up in here<br />when the ball drops. Fuckshit<br />blows.<br />He kicks the wall. Hunter nods.<br />GREGG (cont’d)<br />They pick you up for peddling?<br />HUNTER<br />Double homicide.<br />Gregg whistles.<br />GREGG<br />What we got here is a tripping<br />negro and a white killer.<br />INT. CHRIS’ PARENTS’ BEDROOM - CHRIS AND CLAUDE’S TOWNHOME -<br />SAME TIME<br />Pan along a wall of SUPERSIZED PHOTOS of the Kenton family...<br />...A young Chris and Claude dressed as GHOSTBUSTERS FOR<br />HALLOWEEN...A FAT NANNY, deep soulful eyes, engulfing the<br />smiling brothers in her huge arms...the same Nanny, pushing<br />the brothers up a SNOW COVERED HILL in Central Park...<br />...Pan continues finding Sara checking her reflection in the<br />mirror. In the background, Chris digs through the drawers of<br />his parents’ bureau.<br />CHRIS<br />Four hundred right?<br />He comes toward her.<br />SARA<br />Make it seven hundred. You have to<br />put in for the “Twelve” fund.<br />CHRIS<br />I’m not sure that’s a good idea.<br />People might get crazy.<br />SARA<br />That’s the idea stupid.<br />77.<br />Sara puts her arms around him and kisses him deeply, eyes<br />open. After a few moments, she pulls away smiling.<br />Chris hands her seven hundred dollars.<br />CHRIS<br />I know you’re using me.--But it’s<br />okay.<br />Camera moves toward a PHOTO of THE YOUNG CLAUDE on the BEACH<br />IN THE HAMPTONS, gazing up at the FAT NANNY. He looks so<br />innocent.<br />BRING UP THE SOUNDS OF RUSHING WATER...<br />INT. CLAUDE’S BATHROOM - SAME TIME<br />Claude stands under the waterfall that pours from the<br />showerhead. He turns the side-jets on. His body is in flooded<br />with water from every conceivable angle.<br />He turns the TEMPERATURE HANDLE all the way to the right.<br />SCALDING HOT. He endures as long as he can then turns the<br />handle all the way left. FREEZING COLD water shoots at his<br />body until he shakes uncontrollably. Back to hot. HIS SKIN<br />TURNS RED, his face contorted from the pain...<br />THROUGH THE SHOWER GLASS - STEAM ENVELOPS Claude’s body until<br />we can only see white.<br />INT. LIONEL’S BMW -