CINEMA

Selected screenwriting samples

EXT. BALCONY – DAY

KANAE ASAKAWA sits on a balcony in the sun. Before her sits a CUP OF TEA, a TEA POT, a SLICE OF CAKE, beautifully decorated, and a SAND TIMER.

The last grains of sand fall to the bottom of the timer. Kanae pours the tea, gives thanks, picks up her fork and takes a bite. It’s the best cake ever. She sighs happily.

EXT. BALCONY – DAY

The fork lies in the portion of cake remaining on the plate. Kanae lounges, sipping her tea, as she reads a document on her tablet. It is a dense text on weather patterns.

A podcast plays from her phone.

PODCAST HOST (JAPANESE) (O.S.)

The esteemed meteorologist, Asakawa Kosuke is with us today.

Kanae sighs and looks to the sunny sky. She picks up the sand timer and holds it up, turning it over, looking through it.

PODCAST HOST (JAPANESE)

Professor Asakawa, the impact of the weakening trade winds on global weather patterns has…

Her phone vibrates, silencing the podcast. She puts down the sand timer and picks it up.

DAVID (ENGLISH) (O.S.)

Hi, is this Kanae Asakawa?

KANAE (ENGLISH)

Yes.

DAVID (ENGLISH)

I’m from Le patisserie Violet academy.

She sits up.

KANAE

Oh. Hi.

DAVID

Congratulations. We’re pleased to offer you a place in the next semester.

Kanae gasps a little. Her fingers toy with the sand timer. Turning it over as she listens to him.

DAVID

We’ll just need to confirm your payment details by next week…

KANAE

Sure.

She stands up, putting the sand timer down between the cake and the tablet with the meteorology document.

EXT. DELTA – DAY

The river splits in two directions. Kanae skips over the stepping stones, carrying bags of groceries.

KANAE (JAPANESE) (V.O.)

Dad, you always call me, Sunny girl.

She stops midway, looking up at the blue sky.

INT. KITCHEN – DAY

KANAE (JAPANESE) (V.O.)

We share so much.

Kanae unpacks the groceries onto the bench. Bags of FLOUR, SUGAR, packets of EGGS, MILK, VANILLA ESSENCE.

KANAE (V.O.)

Our curiosity about the world, our need for perfection.

She pulls out BOWLS, MEASURING SPOONS. Her tiny SAND TIMER sits on the edge of the bench.

KANAE (V.O.)

Our sweet tooth.

She smiles as she takes one of the chocolate drops out of the bag and pops it in her mouth.

INT. KITCHEN – DAY

Kanae stands in the kitchen, surrounded by baking equipment. She speaks into her phone, recording a message via auto dictation. She plays with the sand timer.

KANAE

I thought your path was my path. I wanted it to be. I know you’ll be disappointed, but I hope you can understand…

She ends the message. Her finger hovers over the send button. She clicks send.

She puts the phone down next to the sand timer.

INT. KITCHEN – LATER

Montage.

Kanae bakes. She mixes the ingredients. She puts the cake tin into the oven. She takes out a cake. She decorates the cake.

EXT. BALCONY – DAY

Kanae takes her cake out onto the balcony on a tray, with a cup of tea, tea pot and sand timer. She puts the cake down and arranges it. Taking pictures and posting them to Instagram with the hash tag #nextsteps, #newlife.

Her phone rings. Her face becomes serious as she sees the name. She picks up.

KOSUKE (JAPANESE) (O.S.)

Kanae-chan.

KANAE (JAPANESE)

Dad… I…

She toys with the sand timer.

KOSUKE (JAPANESE)

I called the metereological agency about your internship.

KANAE

I know how difficult it was to get me that. And, I’ll pay back the tuition for my masters. I’m so sorry! But I…

The sand timer spins.

KOSUKE

Kanae, I…

KANAE

I know it doesn’t make sense. But baking is my life. It’s what makes me happy. You don’t have to understand, Dad. Just… please, support me.

She puts the timer down, firmly on the table and stand strong, silhouetted by the light.

KOSUKE

My sunny girl… it’s you who doesn’t understand.

She gasps a little.

KOSUKE

I’ve always wanted you to follow your dreams. Whether that is to be a metereologist, or a baker. Or like me, a metereologist with a sweet tooth, who is always a proud father.

Kanae smiles, wipes away tears.

KOSUKE

I always kind of suspected. I mean, do you remember your fifth birthday when you made the cake…

The camera moves to/cuts to/some how ends up on the cake.

KANAE

Yeah, but they were like, clay, right?

KOSUKE

You still ate them…

His voice fades.

FADE OUT.

TITLE: THE CALL

INT. HOUSE – DAY

A webcam’s view of an apartment in disarray. JEN CASTLE, herself looking a bit of a hot mess, leans towards the camera, tapping her fingers impatiently on the desk.

JEN

(sing song voice)

Pick up, pick up, pick up…

TITLE CARD: THE CALL

A camera obliging opens, revealing the harried, but smiling face of CHRISTOPER KING-SMITH, trying to tie a tie. Jen’s expression and body language brightens at the sight of him.

JEN (CONT’D)

Christoffy! It’s been hours! It’s like a new record or something. I don’t know how I survived.

On the other end of the call, Christopher continues to struggle with his tie and isn’t looking at the screen. She frowns very slightly, but her tone remains sweet.

JEN (CONT’D)

Did you miss me?

CHRISTOPHER

(still focused on the tie)

Of course, Jenka! But it’s hardly a record. It took 14 hours for me to get here, remember?

JEN

Oh, you have no idea the shit that went down here in that 14 hours! I am deeply in need of Professor Christopher King-Smith’s advice…

Chris gives up on the tie, settles for combing his hair instead. He doesn’t respond to her.

JEN (CONT’D)

Are you going somewhere, Toffy?

CHRISTOPHER

Ah, yeah, Jen, I got a class starting, like, shit, now…

JEN

Oh, ok, but when…?

CHRISTOPHER

Sorry, Jenka! Chat soon! Miss you!

The call disconnects. She slumps back.

FADE IN:

Bass thumps in the darkness.

INT. TOKYO – KARAOKE BOOTH – NIGHT

LEDs sparkle through haze, bass thumps, hair swishes with the beat, hands stretch out, rising with the words.

In booth after glittering booth are women, men, old, young, couples, groups and singles gazing at the TV. Eyes close, ties loosen, plastic cups clank together in a toast.

It’s time for karaoke.

INT. TOKYO – OFFICE – NIGHT

Paper-cluttered desks fill a halogen lit box. Suited workers hunch over flickering screens. Keyboard keys click.

TOMOYA NAITO (22), blue suit, Hawaiian print tie, shaggy cut hair, closes his computer. He hefts his briefcase, ready to leave. His neighbour MORI (35) hooks onto his suit.

MORI (JAPANESE)

Wait. All those are for us. We’ll be here ’til 10 at least.

Looming over their section, the black silhouette of the SECTION MANAGER slips papers into folders.

TOMOYA (JAPANESE)

It’s six p.m. Work’s finished.

MORI

Take the overtime. You’ll thank me when you get married.

Tomoya yanks his suit tail from Mori’s grip.

TOMOYA

You’re not married.

MORI

I will be when I’m section manager.

The supervisor glares in their direction. They flinch.

MORI (CONT’D)

Girlfriends want to play. Wives expect you to work. Do the overtime.

Mori resumes typing. Tomoya gazes towards freedom: The elevator doors dinging and sliding open, inviting him in.

He peaks back at his boss, thickening a file with tasks for him. Tomoya lowers his briefcase.

A phone rings. A secretary hurries to the manager’s side. He follows her into a private office.

Tomoya grins. Mori shakes his head.

TOMOYA

Thank you for your hard work today.

Head down, avoiding the stares, Tomoya scuttles through the desks. Mori watches him disappear into the elevator.

Files thud onto Mori’s desk. He groans and flicks through the stack as the manager stalks away.

INT. KARAOKE BOOTH – NIGHT

A woman’s voice soars as her friends applaud.

The door bursts open. Tomoya slides through, Hawaiian print tie wrapped about his head. The group cheer. He scoops up a microphone, his voice harmonising with hers.

INT. KARAOKE – CORRIDOR – NIGHT

Tomoya ducks into a nook beside the vending machines, pulling a laughing young woman in beside him.

They kiss.

INT. TOKYO – OFFICE – NIGHT

A stack of folders slaps down on Tomoya’s desk, cutting the music, destroying the day-dream. He stares past them. The elevator doors ding as they shut.

Mori takes the top file. Tomoya sighs and takes the next.

INT. KARAOKE BOOTH – NIGHT

In a karaoke booth, a young woman croons. She is alone, silhouetted against the TV screen. In the music video, a couple hold hands, walking along a pier as a red sun dips towards the horizon.

EXT. JAPAN – OSAKA – VARIOUS – NIGHT

Criss-crossing roadways gleam with light.

BAILEY (V.O.)

Osaka looks her best on a night before Christmas. Trees are bright with lights and wrapped in ribbons like a present.

Illuminations frame Osaka castle and the neoclassical arches of the City Central Public Hall. Trains pass over the gingerbread roofs of a German market in Umeda. Warmly wrapped shoppers take selfies in front of a massive Christmas tree.

BAILEY (V.O.)

Christmas in Japan is different. It has its own traditions. Families eat fried chicken, friends drink gingerbread lattes…

Young women in Santa hats pass out packs of tissues, promoting an event on the most romantic night of all:

Christmas Eve.

BAILEY (V.O.)

…and singles go on dates.

INT. JAPAN – OSAKA – RESTAURANT – NIGHT

A calendar marks the date: December 24th. Staff bustle around a restaurant. Bartenders put champagne on ice. Numbered cards sit in perfect rows until doors open and hands pluck them up.

Customers, a mix of Japanese and non, receive a clipboard with paper and a pen. Women giggle over the options with their friends and a glass of champagne. They peek at the men clumping at the bar, sneaking glances back.

INT. JAPAN – OSAKA – RESTAURANT – TOILET STALL – NIGHT

Pink paper slaps down on a white surface. A small, closed hand mirror clicks down next to it. A pen hovers over the options. BAILEY WRIGHT (35), a non-Japanese woman with light make-up, frowns at it.

BAILEY (V.O.)

Profile sheets. Stage one of a Japanese matchmaking party. What details will get positive attention? What should one hide?

BAILEY

(under her breath)

OK, easy ones first. Name. Bailey Wright.

She scratches her name down in decent katakana.

BAILEY (V.O.)

Height…

She writes in a number.

BAILEY (V.O.)

Can’t fake that. Blood type…?

The pen hesitates.

BAILEY (V.O.)

B is too independent. A too picky.

She writes the letter O.

Bailey holds the paper up close to her face, lips moving as she deciphers the Japanese characters.

BAILEY

What type of person am I?

INT. LABORATORY – FANTASY – DAY

Bailey, looking scientific in a lab coat and glasses, looks up from an old-school mobile phone she’s researching.

FANTASY BAILEY

I am a market researcher for Nokia. I do Rubik’s cube in my spare time.

She takes a completed cube from her pocket and spins it.

INT. JAPAN – OSAKA – RESTAURANT – TOILET STALL – REAL WORLD – NIGHT

Bailey shakes her head.

BAILEY (V.O.)

No. Used that last time. I…

INT. CHIC APARTMENT – FANTASY – DAY

Bailey half watches a TV show, while scanning her phone. DVD sets of 90s shows lie open and scattered on a coffee table.

BAILEY (V.O.)

…binge-watch boxed sets while I invest in the stock market.

INT. JAPAN – OSAKA – RESTAURANT – TOILET STALL – REAL WORLD – NIGHT

Bailey shakes her head again.

BAILEY (V.O.)

No, they always ask for advice.

She chews the pen. Opens the mirror and inspects herself.

BAILEY (V.O.)

It’s not like I can put the truth.

FLASHBACK

INT. AUSTRALIA – CHIN CHIN – CATHOLIC CHURCH – PAST – DAY

Teenage, short haired Bailey stands in line to receive a blessing in a Catholic church.

She stumbles into the back of a boy in front of her. He recoils in disgust. A heartbeat begins to hammer out a beat.

TEENAGE LUKE

Ugh! Don’t touch me!

INT. JAPAN – OSAKA – RESTAURANT – TOILET STALL – PRESENT DAY

There is a loud banging on the wall and a strong Australian accent.

NINA

Oi! Baz! People are going to pee themselves out here!

Bailey sighs, closes the mirror and picks up the clipboard.

FADE IN:

EXT. GOLD COAST – DAY

The travel brochure cover image of Australia. Golden, sandy beaches stretching into the distance. Shimmering skyscrapers framed with blue sky. From high above, the Gold Coast is a beautiful blank slate for daydreams and flights of fancy.

INT. LIFE COACH OFFICE – DAY

Wind ruffles through gossamer curtains. Sunlight warms white walls, cream tiles, and canvas paintings of frangipanis.

FAITH ATHERTON (35) basks in the glow by the window. She could be a model in ‘Luxury Homes Australia’, gazing out over the ocean. Distant waves crash, children squeal.

LIFE COACH (O.S.)

Sorry to keep you waiting.

He relaxes gym-built, broad shoulders back into a chair, legs spreading out. Stubble shadows his jawline, lending him the appearance of maturity. A practised grin invites her closer.

She sits on the edge of the couch. Manicured fingers twist and knot together, reflected in a glass table.

LIFE COACH

Right. Let’s get into the thick of it. Tell me who you are.

Deep breath. Smile.

FAITH ATHERTON

I am Faith Atherton. Romance author most famous for Barefoot Kisses, but also many other bestsellers. Coral Hearts, Waves of Love, Hearts Adrift…

He lifts a hand. She falters.

FAITH ATHERTON

I’m sorry. Am I doing it wrong? I thought this was like an affirmation type exercise…

LIFE COACH

Faith is your author, um… username, right? Avatar? I want you to go beyond the book cover, OK? Dig deep. Who are you? Really?

Deep breath again. No smile.

NICOLE YEURK

I am Nicole G- um, Yeurk? I grew up in western Queensland. Didn’t see the beach ’til Schoolies, actually. Then, you know, I met “him”. The inspiration for Barefoot Kisses. Sorry, I guess you already know that from ‘Australian Story’. But, unfortunately, I didn’t get a happy ending like I wrote. Sorry, old news. You probably saw the piece on ’60 Minutes’…

Her voice trails into silence.

LIFE COACH

I’m hearing a lot of surface details.

FAITH/NICOLE

Sorry. I’m not sure. Like, what kind of information do you want?

LIFE COACH

Authenticity. Whatever is real to you. Come on. Convince me!

Her mouth opens. Closes.

FAITH/NICOLE

Um…

He leans forward, eyes intense. She looks down.

LIFE COACH

What do you want?

Her hands, reflected in the glass, wring together.

LIFE COACH

Why are you here?

EXT. GOLD COAST – DAY

Rain sweeps across a car park. Giant waves erode the beach. Surfer youths huddle together in hoodies, boardies, and thongs, smoking. Impersonal concrete towers fill the sky.

INT. FAITH ATHERTON’S APARTMENT – LIVING ROOM – DAY

Dim light streams through the massive, ocean facing windows. Pizza boxes and unwashed plates clutter the marble topped kitchen bench. Hardwood bookcases display the full collection of Faith Atherton’s romance/mystery bestsellers.

She huddles on a couch, cocooned in blankets. Hair unbrushed, no make-up, only vaguely resembling the stylish woman beaming from Woman’s Weekly covers, framed and hung on the walls.

Faith stares at her phone screen without expression. A comfy romantic comedy montages a cute couple getting to know each other. A notification covers the screen. She swipes it away.

The doorbell buzzes. She ignores it.

A key grinds in the lock. The door opens.

BELINDA YEURK (40) pushes through the door, box first. It thuds onto a table. A plastic file slaps down beside it.

Faith winces as the lights switch on.

Belinda pulls a hard cover book out of the box. A bikini girl reclines in the chiselled arms of a surfer man beneath the block-letter title: Sea Breeze Lovers.

BELINDA

Dymocks remaindered these. Sign them, will you? Today. I’ll put them on eBay.

She shakes out a rubbish bag.

BELINDA

I can see that the life coach is totally worth his ridiculous fee. You’re completely back on track.

She uses a pizza box to scoop up tissues littering the tiles.

BELINDA

Publisher texted me. She knows how busy you are, I guess. Wants an update on the manuscript.

No answer. Belinda pauses her cleaning. Tinny audio from the romantic comedy floats through the air.

BELINDA

(mum voice)

Nicole?

Faith switches off her phone.

FAITH

Sorry. I know. I’ve been a bit out of it this week.

BELINDA

Yeah. Right. This week. Sure.

She snaps open a second bag. Faith grimaces in anticipation as Belinda stomps around to face her.

BELINDA

I’m your sister, not your mum, Nicole. I’m trying to be patient, but wrapping you in cotton wool isn’t working. My kids get the band-aid treatment, and it doesn’t bloody hurt them any.

FAITH

I’m sorry. You’re right.

BELINDA

Good. Glad you agree. Cos you need to move out by the weekend. Airbnb guests want to rent the Airbnb, and, frankly, you need the money-

Belinda’s phone trills. She digs it out of a pocket, checking the number. She sighs.

BELINDA

Shit. The school. Look, sign those, would you? Now.

She flicks a pen at Faith and hustles towards the balcony.

EXT. GOLD COAST – APARTMENT – BALCONY

Face drawn, wrapping herself against the cold wind, Belinda listens to the phone.

BELINDA

Again? … How is the other kid?

She rubs her face and closes her eyes.

INT. FAITH ATHERTON’S APARTMENT – LIVING ROOM – DAY

Still draped in a blanket, Faith drags herself to the table. Opening the box, she pulls out a book, wiping the dust off the cover. She runs her fingers through the pages, then sets it back with the dozens of other unsold copies.

A plastic folder lies on the table by the box. The print-out inside shows professional pictures of the apartment alongside a headshot of herself and the tag-line: “Experience the magic of barefoot kisses in the home of romance.”

Faith sighs, pushing it away. Beneath, is a thicker folder. She opens it, pulling out yellowed photos. Her eyes widen as she flicks through the faded pictures. Sand and scrubby eucalyptus frame a small, fibro-clad shack by the beach.

Turning over the photo, she reads the cursive inscription: The Beach House, Sandyreach Bay.

A set of keys slip out of the folder. Faith picks them up.

INT. FAITH ATHERTON’S APARTMENT – LIVING ROOM – LATER

The balcony door slides open.

BELINDA

That was Matty’s school. I’ve got to head off… Oh, good girl!

Faith signs a book, adding it to the pile beside the box. Belinda flicks open a book, revealing a looping signature.

BELINDA

Very artistic. Can hardly read it. You could change back to your real name and no-one would notice.

FAITH

At least I didn’t lose this one in the divorce.

Belinda rubs her face.

BELINDA

Sorry, Nic. I shouldn’t have said that.

Faith shrugs. Belinda hefts the box and hustles to the door.

BELINDA

Look. I checked with mum and dad. They’re happy to have you come stay. I know it’s a bit of a drive, but, just take it in small chunks-

FAITH

It’s OK. I’ve got a place.

Belinda’s eyes narrow, but has no time to inquire.

As the door shuts and Belinda’s footsteps echo away, Faith pulls the keys out of her pocket. She smiles.

INT. GOLD COAST – REAL ESTATE AGENCY – DAY

ZEB MALIK (32) grins, a key fob reflecting in his Aviator sunglasses, as he snaps a selfie. He holds out his arm, striking a different pose, stretching to include as much of the Land cruiser in the shot as possible.

RENTAL STAFF

If you shoot from a low angle, you can get the snorkel in.

ZEB

Thanks, bruh.

He manages to squat despite the tight fit of his three-piece suit. He shows the result to the young man, who is suitably impressed.

ZEB

New profile pic, eh, bruh!

They share a knowing snigger and fist-bump.

RENTAL STAFF

So, where ya gonna take her? Bet ya don’t get much chance to cut sick in Sydney, ey?

ZEB

Nah, bruh, for real. Some of the properties in my portfolio, the ones out west. Mate, they are gnarly as. Swear to God, I am scared for my life. But this trip, bruh, I’m heading into true wilderness.

RENTAL STAFF

No shit? You doing Cape York, mate? Cos, um, the boss’ll want you to get the extra insurance, ey.

ZEB

Nah, nah, mate. Not that far. Just up to Sandyreach Bay.

The rental guy nods, digesting.

RENTAL STAFF

Where?

INT. TOWER B – SHOPPING MALL – DAY

The design of shopping malls hasn’t changed much in one hundred and fifty years. A cavernous space designed to impress; to make you feel small. The high roof, extending up, reveals storeys of floors full of shiny, consumer goods. Natural light floods down from skylights far above.

NIA (34), Bounty Hunter, watches her target from within racks of shimmering holograph garment filters that flicker as they cycle through patterns and styles.

She has a stoic, lean look, out of place in the upmarket mall. Her cropped black hair and mismatched, but practical, clothes are basic. Other customers of the mall shimmer from within filters that lighten, lengthen, tone, tighten their figures. They side-eye her, but hurry on when they notice the web of wire filaments that cover one of her cheeks, connecting to her piercings. They are not just decorative.

The target, ALINA (34), browsing in a shop across the corridor, glances in Nia’s direction.

NIA

(low)

Distance?

On the floor above, ROOBIE (21), a slim, to the point of bony, woman stares intently at a tablet. She tucks her long, silver hair behind her ear, revealing a similar pattern of wires to Nia’s, almost concealed beneath make-up.

ROOBIE

Fifty metres. Now fifty-five.

NIA (O.S)

Shit.

ROOBIE

What’s wrong? I thought you said you wanted the target to see you?

Down below, Nia steps out from the clothes racks, catching the target’s eyes for a moment before they look away.

NIA

I do. Especially jittery ones like her. She needs time to weigh her options.

(to herself)

Please don’t run, Alina.

ROOBIE (O.S.)

(through the wires)

No one has the calories for that.

Alina looks expensive. Her face is round, and her clothes dimple across her thick waist. She emerges from the shop, fingers trailing over a piece of shimmering fabric.

NIA

Here we go. Tic, ready to shoot?

TIC (O.S)

(light, masculine voice)

Always.

Nia slides out from between the clothing racks.

Alina’s eyes flick back. Her strides lengthen.

ROOBIE

Seventy metres. Eighty… She’s heading for the Belt. It’ll be a full, lunchtime crowd.

Nia breaks into a jog.

TIC (O.S)

Nia?

NIA

Wait! Don’t shoot yet. Shit!

Alina ducks into a restaurant. Nia sprints.

NIA (CONT’D)

Follow her signal, Roobie! Tic, with me!

A small black drone spins out of the alcove in the ceiling, zooming down the hall after Nia.

INT. TOWER B – THE BELT – RESTAURANT AREA – DAY

The Belt is narrow and dim. Neon beams sweep across the room. Announcements vie for the attention of the people trying to talk over them. There is a crowd here, unlike the nearly vacant shops outside, and everyone is filtered to look beautiful, healthy, vibrant, lively.

They sit in rows around brightly lit conveyor belts, plucking plates of gorgeously arranged morsels from it. Some customers have towers of empty plates at their elbows.

Alina slips through the crowded reception area, passing under the gate where other hungry customers wait, and ducks behind the conveyor belt rows.

She pants, steadies herself, and chances a peek. Nothing but gloom and anonymous bodies. She slides further into the room.

Moments later, Nia enters the reception area, breathing hard. People nearby edge away from her.

ROOBIE (O.S)

She went through here.

The gate opens to let through the next group of consumers. Nia slips in alongside them, ignoring their irritated looks. She stalks the rows, scanning for the target.

ROOBIE (O.S) (CONT’D)

In the back. She went into the kitchens. But…

(frustrated)

She’s off the map!

NIA

That’s not what I want to hear, Roobie. Find her signal.

Nia walks to the back of the restaurant and tests the tiny kitchen door. It’s locked.

Tic, the drone, hovers by her ear.

TIC

Don’t snap at the girl, Nia. You lost the Bounty, too.

Nia slides into an empty booth by the door, exhausted by the chase.

NIA

Training should be interesting, right?

TIC

Such a good storyteller, Nia. I wish I could bullshit like that.

NIA

I wish you would open the door already.

Roobie slips into the booth alongside them, her eyes fixed on the tablet, still scanning for the target.

ROOBIE

Why don’t we have access to the kitchens yet?

TIC

I’m negotiating. The Server is unwilling to take us at face value.

Nia snorts. She looks around at the other customers in the shimmering holographic filters.

NIA

(to herself)

It’s like a Halloween party in here.

ROOBIE

A what?

NIA

Nothing. Have you found Alina yet?

ROOBIE

No.

(emphasising pointedly)

The target has vanished.

(irritated)

Can’t Tic just offer a “cash donation”? Isn’t that what Bounty Hunters do?

Nia swipes the tablet off Roobie. Tic flits over to hover by Roobie’s slumped shoulder.

TIC

Generally government employees don’t offer bribes.

ROOBIE

(mutters)

That’s pretty anti-social…

(sighs)

I’m so hungry.

TIC

Server says to take a bite.

The little drone swoops over the menu items trundling by on the conveyor belt.

TIC (CONT’D)

No cost. Of course, no calories though either…

Roobie gives Nia a sideways glance, but sees she is engrossed watching the tablet screen. She picks a plate off the conveyor. The food beneath the plastic hood looks amazing: zucchini and salmon hors d’oeuvres… except for the telltale holographic shimmer. She takes a bite. Not bad. But also not food. She offers the rest to Nia, who shakes her head.

NIA

I don’t accept bribes.

Appalled, Roobie tips the rest of the plate down the shoot.

TIC

It’s open.

NIA

Good. I’ve found Alina. She’s gone up to the Windows.

INT. TOWER B – THE BELT – KITCHEN – DAY

Nia pushes the door into the kitchen and enters a quiet world with bright, clean lighting and a handful of young women in simple but clean outfits, listlessly spinning holographic 3D models of food arrangements around, tweaking their look and colour. Behind hygienically sealed glass walls, a fully automated system prepares beige rectangles on plates, adds the flavouring, loads the holographic filter and then sets them on the conveyor belt.

The women stop their work and stare at Nia, who ignores them. She walks to the back of the room and opens another door. Tic hovers before it. Nia spins to face Roobie.

NIA

Stay here until I call you. Ok. Stay…

She and Tic exit through the door. Roobie frowns.

INT. TOWER B – THE WINDOWS – DAY

Nia pushes a service door open and walks out onto carpet. Light overwhelms her vision until she ducks into the shade.

Nia rubs her eyes quickly, still struggling to see.

NIA

Tic?

ALINA

You figured it out, huh?

Nia turns at the sound of her voice. Alina is standing in the sun, just out of reach. The elaborate headpiece she wears has the shimmer of a filter, but her rich clothes seem real. The heavy earring, necklace and the bangles covering her plump forearms shine realistically in the light.

ALINA

I’ll give you all the proceeds from my next two pieces.

NIA

Content can’t allow any distractions to the narrative.

ALINA

(softly)

I see.

She turns her face from Nia, towards the windows, closing her eyes, struggling with emotion.

TIC (O.S)

Alina’s heroes always cry. Very emotive. Are you taking notes-

NIA

(turning away from Alina, whispering to Tic)

Are you ready to shoot?!

Alina overhears and pales. She trips on her voluminous skirts, falling onto her knees.

ALINA

I… I’m sorry. I won’t write again. I promise.

Nia winces and turns back to Alina.

NIA

You will write again, Alina. After some training. Content will…

She stops talking as Alina regains her feet and steps towards her, into the shadow. Nia stares uncertainly at her. Alina’s hands rise to clutch her heart,

TIC (V.O.)

(smugly)

Camera rolling.

ALINA

Content wants me?

(breathlessly)

I’m a Bounty?

A loud gasp comes from behind them.

Nia turns away from Alina and sees Roobie has come up through the door. The girl stares ahead in shock.

Rising before her are massive windows that stretch up the height of the tower. Beyond the glass is a vista of an unending ocean.

Outside the tower, the ocean goes on forever. Patches of solar panels, most smashed, float on the waves at its base.

In the distance are other towers. Rows of them: snapped, broken, empty.

Alina smiles at the drone as it does 360° laps around her.

ALINA

(referring to Roobie)

Is it her first time at the Windows?

INT. TOWER B – THE WINDOWS – DAY

Roobie leans against the glass, facing away from the ocean view, slumped, head in hands. Nia sits by her pale apprentice, watching the newly minted “Bounty”, Alina, nattering to the “camera”, as Tic swoops around capturing her best angles.

Roobie raises her head, eyes blank.

ROOBIE

I can’t face it.

NIA

(blandly)

It’s just water.

Roobie doesn’t reply. Nia touches her shoulder.

NIA

Try not to think about it.

Roobie continues staring into the middle distance. Nia leans in and shakes her.

NIA

Hey! We’re not done here yet.

Roobie’s red-rimmed eyes focus on Nia’s stern ones.

ROOBIE

(incredulously)

The job?

NIA

It matters. What you’re feeling now, is not going to help us.

She points to Alina.

NIA

The stories she’s going to tell now, will make people happy. Happy people can figure out how to fix this. That their job, that’s her job. We have ours. Ok!

Roobie wipes her eyes and nods.

ROOBIE

Sure.

NIA

Good girl. Now go take our “Bounty” down to Content before she changes her mind.

Roobie’s lips twitch into an almost smile.

ROOBIE

(weakly)

Then we’d really have to shoot her, hey?

NIA

(forced laugh)

Yeah… right!

Roobie leads Alina through the doors with one backward’s glance at the windows and one at Nia, who smiles and nods to her.

The tiny whirr of Tic’s motors alerts Nia that he is near.

TIC

One less rival on the market.

Nia snorts.

NIA

Hardly.

TIC

Inspired? It’s been a while since you’ve written an action piece.

NIA

Too soon, Tic.

She points to the door.

NIA

You should be following the Bounty.

He dips in mechanical disappointment.

TIC

More of the same, then? The Market is getting hungry for change, Nia.

She swats him, though he avoids easily, buzzing away through the door.

Nia sits for a moment longer, staring out through the windows at the waves and at the dead Towers beyond. Then, she wipes a tear from her eyes, stands up and leaves.

The waves crash against the tower walls.

INT. JAPAN – KYOTO – CLASSROOM – DAY

A Japanese teacher stands by a white board. Around her sits four or five non-Japanese, adult students.

JAPANESE TEACHER (JAPANESE)

I’d like to welcome a new student today. Would you like to introduce yourself, please?

LEILA JAMES (25) stands up.

LEILA (JAPANESE)

My name is Leila James. I am twenty-five years old and from Australia. I’ve been in Japan for two years and I work as an English conversation teacher. I love living in Japan. It’s super convenient; the people are really nice and no-one gets agro when they’re drinking, except me… It’s quiet, clean, beautiful… Everyone just leaves you alone to live life your own way. Nice to meet you!

Leila bows. A phone buzzes. She looks up.

INT. JAPAN – KYOTO – TOILET – DAY

Leila sits, fully clothed, in a toilet cubicle. Outside, she can hear sounds of the Japanese class starting.

JAPANESE TEACHER (JAPANESE)

Let’s begin.

STUDENTS (JAPANESE)

Yes!

Leila taps her legs with her hands in a left, left, right, right, left, tapping motion. She breathes deeply in and out. Her phone buzzes again. She checks the message.

BIGSIE (TEXT)

Good luck with your lesson today! You can do it!

LEILA (ENGLISH)

I can’t do this.

She flushes the toilet unnecessarily and leave the cubicle.

EXT. KYOTO – CONTINUOUS – DAY

Opening Montage.

— Leila paints at different spots around Kyoto.

Titles: Leila Loves Japan

EXT. KYOTO – KAMOGAWA RIVER – DAY

Leila paints at an easel set up overlooking the Kamogawa river, framed with cherry blossoms. The Kamogawa winds from north to south through the ancient city and is Kyoto’s most beautiful natural feature. With water clean enough for children to swim in over the hot summer months, it is home to birds, fish and accidentally imported Brazilian river rats.

Joggers and bicycles slow to look at what Leila doing, but she is in her own world.

Until her phone rings.

LEILA (JAPANESE)

Moshi moshi.

MIKA (ENGLISH)

Leila-sensei, I am so sorry to bother you on your first day of spring holidays, but the president has an important message for all staff. Can you come into the office later today?

LEILA (ENGLISH)

If it’s online, can’t I just connect at home?

MIKA

Mm, I have to give you a document to fill out too.

LEILA

(excitedly)

The contract?

MIKA

Mmm. No, they haven’t sent them out yet.

LEILA

It’s so late this year.

MIKA

Mm. Yes. Can you please bring your suit jacket, too? Head Office staff will be checking all the videos.

INT. KYOTO – ENGLISH CONVERSATION SCHOOL – OFFICE – DAY

Leila pushes through the door, carrying a black suit jacket. MIKA MORIYAMA (30), her ever professional Japanese manager, passes her a gauze neck scarf.

MIKA (ENGLISH)

Quick! Tie this on. I set everything up in your classroom.

INT. KYOTO – ENGLISH CONVERSATION SCHOOL – LEILA’S CLASSROOM – DAY

The classroom is a white square with white, rectangular tables in the centre. A shelf on the side of the room is crammed with various things for teaching English: textbooks, toys, laminated sheets with the ABC, and a CD player. It’s a mess, and the posters on the walls are dog-eared and daggy.

Mika has set up the computer to face a white wall, angling it to avoid the place where wallpaper is peeling. On the screen are the webcam videos of various other foreign English teachers across Japan. In the centre is a large square with an empty, as yet unfilled seat.

Leila sits. Mika puts an envelope and pen down beside the laptop.

LEILA (ENGLISH)

What’s this? Not the contract, right?

MIKA (ENGLISH)

Not yet. Oh, I think the President is here. Good luck!

She skips out of the room, settling before her own webcam in the office.

Leila scratches at the scarf, but stops and straightens her posture as the PRESIDENT (80), an elderly Japanese man with impressively thick hair, comes onto the screen. He fiddles with the camera, while everyone waits, until everything is how he wants it.

PRESIDENT (ENGLISH)

(slow but precise)

Thank you everyone for coming out today, and apologies for taking time out of your first day of spring vacation. As you know, the company has been facing a tough time with dropping enrolments. We have had to make difficult financial choices…

Leila’s fingers twist under the desk.

PRESIDENT

However, spring in Japan is a time of change. It is the beginning of the school year; it is when fresh recruits begin their jobs; and it is when many people take the chance to try something new.

(voice quivers with emotion)

This company has always given its teachers two weeks off in spring, and in this year of change and renewal, I want to give you all a personal growth challenge!

He lifts an envelope, the twin of the one beside Leila’s computer.

PRESIDENT

In the envelope you will find a sheet of paper. I would like you all to take some time to write a list of goals you think you could attempt in the next two weeks.

Leila opens the envelope and takes out the paper inside. It is lined, with check boxes at the end of each line.

PRESIDENT

Good luck! Challenge!

He bows slightly and the video ends. Leila picks up the pen and taps the desk. She fidgets, then finally at the top writes a word. After more tapping, she adds a few more lines. Warming to the task, she writes and writes and writes until the paper is full.

INT. KYOTO – ENGLISH CONVERSATION SCHOOL – OFFICE – DAY

Leila exits her classroom.

LEILA (JAPANESE)

(cheerfully)

Done.

MIKA (JAPANESE)

Thanks, can I have it?

LEILA (ENGLISH)

Oh, uh, I thought it was going to be private?

MIKA (JAPANESE)

I won’t look.

Leila slides it face down to Mika who scans it and passes the paper back.

MIKA (ENGLISH)

Head Office want a record of everyone’s goals.

LEILA

Why?

MIKA

If you check them all off before the end of the holiday, they’ll send out your next contract. Can I have my scarf back, please?

INT. KYOTO – LEILA’S APARTMENT – DAY/ TOKYO – BIGSIE’S APARTMENT – DAY

Split screen.

Leila walks around her apartment talking on the phone. Her studio is full of paintings, canvases and painting tools. It’s quite messy and cluttered. Bigsie’s larger apartment by comparison is organised, clean and minimalistic.

BIGSIE (ENGLISH)

You are being emotionally manipulated by a cult.

LEILA (ENGLISH)

At least I’m not being fired. Yet.

BIGSIE

The premise is completely absurd. They are holding you hostage to a task that is impossible to confirm. You should just tick every box right now. They will never know.

LEILA

That’s kind of cheating, though… And maybe they will know, somehow. Maybe that’s part of the test.

BIGSIE

Lei, I strongly advise you to find alternative employment.

LEILA

Bigs, it’s not that bad. Maybe it was a good thing! Putting goals down on paper gave me focus.

BIGSIE

You are justifying an abusive relationship to me right now. Anyway, what did you write?

LEILA

Well, since all of Head Office gets to know anyway, I guess I can tell you.

Leila fishes the paper out of her bag.

LEILA

OK, item one: exercise.

BIGSIE

Unoriginal.

LEILA

Yeah, I was warming up. OK, number 2: learn to cook.

BIGSIE

Unwise. And the cause of deep anguish, even poverty, to your local convenience store owner.

LEILA

Hush you. Three: See more of Kyoto. You know, I’ve been here two years now, and I feel like I hardly know the place.

BIGSIE

Unsurprising. I have observed you to be a creature of habit.

LEILA

I guess that was the point of making us do the list.

BIGSIE

Hm. Is that its conclusion?

LEILA

Well… The others are kind of embarrassing.

BIGSIE

I’m trying to recall when that was ever a factor in-

LEILA

Fine! Watch a scary movie. Study more Japanese.

BIGSIE

Hmmm?

LEILA

Make a new friend. Forgive someone. And…

She stares at the paper, then puts it face down on the table.

LEILA

That’s all.

BIGSIE

Quite heavy at the end there. Especially the part about getting a new friend. Very hurtful.

LEILA

I didn’t say a new best friend. And you left me!

BIGSIE

Most unwillingly, and I am scheming a return. Unless you quit and come to Tokyo?

LEILA

Bigsie, if I stay with this company, they might transfer me there eventually.

BIGSIE

Hmph. Unlikely.

LEILA

Anyway, it’s at the bottom of the list because I have no idea where to even find friends…

BIGSIE

Lei. It’s spring.

Leila looks towards the painting of the cherry blossoms she was doing earlier.

EXT. KYOTO – KAMOGAWA – DAY

Blue sheets and picnic blankets line the grass by the Kamogawa river. Cherry blossom trees extend into the hazy distance.

Leila sits on the embankment, hidden by low hanging pink branches, watching groups of people walk past carrying plastic bags of alcohol and food.

LEILA (ENGLISH)

(mutters)

My name is Leila James. I am twenty-five years old and from Australia. I’ve been in Japan for two years and I work as an English conversation teacher. My name is Leila James.

She breathes shakily and comes out from beneath the trees.

She walks along the dirt path, slowing as she approaches a large group of young Westerners. They are very loud. No one looks at her. Leila stalls for a second.

She keeps walking.

EXT. KYOTO – KAMOGAWA RIVER – LATE AFTERNOON

Leila paints at her easel again. The sun is setting, and she is capturing a tranquil scene of the river, without any people in it.

Around her, is the noise of a dozen cheerful parties in full swing. Groups of tipsy people wander past. Leila flinches a little at some loud, if positive, commentary on her work.

She sighs and puts down her brush, comparing the scenes. She starts to pack up.

ERI (27), a young Japanese woman, stands behind Leila, looking at the painting.

ERI (ENGLISH)

Hello.

Leila jumps. Her paintbrush goes flying. She and Eri scramble to pick it up. Eri finds it first and passes it to Leila.

LEILA (ENGLISH)

Thanks.

ERI

No problem. By the way, I’m Eri.

LEILA

Oh, nice to meet you.

The silence hangs for a second, until Leila belatedly realises.

LEILA

Oh, I’m Leila.

ERI

Nice to meet you. Are you a student?

LEILA

No. I teach English for Gova.

Eri nods. Again the slight pause.

ERI

Now you ask me something.

LEILA

Oh, yeah, sorry, um. Are you a student?

ERI

No. I work at the rock climbing gym, over there.

She points, and Leila realises that Eri is reasonably built.

ERI

I want to improve my English.

LEILA

Oh, that’s great.

Awkward pause.

LEILA

It’s starting to get dark. I gotta get this packed up.

ERI

Oh, sure. I’ll help.

LEILA

It’s ok…

A light shines out from Eri’s phone, illuminating everything clearly. She puts it in Leila’s bike basket and bends to help. They catch eyes for a second and Eri smiles, but Leila looks away quickly.

EXT. KYOTO – KAMOGAWA RIVER – EVENING

Eri carries Leila’s easel as they come up some stairs.

LEILA (JAPANESE)

Thank you.

(English)

This is me.

ERI (JAPANESE)

You’re welcome.

Leila takes back her easel.

LEILA (ENGLISH)

Can I ask something? How do you just go up to people and start talking? Isn’t it scary?

Eri considers.

ERI (ENGLISH)

I… think, if it sucks, I don’t have to see them again.

She laughs and Leila laughs too after a second. Eri waves her hand in a negating motion.

ERI

No way! It’s so scary, but I have my goal.

She points forward with two hands.

ERI

I go straight to that.

LEILA

What is it? Your goal?

ERI

I want to live overseas. So, I need English. If I think of my goal, I’m not so scared. What about you?

LEILA

Goals? Yeah, a list of them.

ERI

Just think of that.

She smiles and waves. Leila waves back and walks up the steps. At the top, she gets a message and checks.

BIGSIE

Did you succeed in forming new acquaintances today?

Leila swears.

LEILA

Eri!

Eri has disappeared into the darkness. Leila sighs.

EXT. KYOTO – KAMOGAWA – DAY

Leila hovers by a large group of Westerners, her fingers tap left, left, right, right, at the top of her thighs.

LEILA (ENGLISH)

(whispers)

Hi, my name is Leila James. I’m here to make friends. My goal is to make friends.

She puts her hands together and points, then takes a breath, comes right up to the edge of the blue mat.

SOPHIA (23) a Western girl smiles at her. Leila smiles back. The sun seems to be shining extra strongly, with highlights and soft glare on Sophia.

SOFIA (ENGLISH)

Hi.

LEILA (ENGLISH)

Hi. I’m-

Sophia cuts her off with a sharp hand gesture. The light dims, becomes a little cold, hard edged.

SOFIA

Don’t tell me now. We’re about to do the group introductions, and I hate hearing the same information over again.

(bellows)

Oi! Everyone! Let’s make the circle now! If people are late, too bad.

She points out a spot for Leila in the circle and stands over the group, directing people where to sit and when to make the circle bigger.

She spins around, considering, then points at BEN (24), a Western man about two spots away from Leila.

SOFIA

You! First!

The direction she indicates means that Leila will be the third person. Leila sips at her drink, eyes down.

BEN (ENGLISH)

Hi… I’m Ben. I’m from Canada. I’ve been living in Japan for a few years now. Yeah. That’s about it.

Polite applause. Leila’s eyes widen, her breath shortens, her fingers push into the crinkly plastic of the mat.

SOFIA

You! Next!

MARCIE (26), a Western woman, waves cheerfully to the group. She sits next to Leila.

MARCIE (ENGLISH)

Hey everyone, I’m Marcie. I’m from Bristol, UK. I teach in-

Leila shuts her eyes, blood pumping in her ears.

The wind picks up. Someone exclaims. Leila opens her eyes. Cherry blossoms are swirling through the air. Marcie’s introduction halts as the group stares up in wonder at the beautiful scene. Phones raise to capture the petal-blizzard.

Leila finds that she is being covered in several of the petals. One of them falls in her drink. She looks at it, smiles and takes a deeper breath.

SOFIA

Focus, people! Thanks, Marcie.

Marcie stutters, but Sophia ignores her.

SOPHIA

You! Next!

She points at Leila who takes a deep breath.

LEILA

Uh, hello. My name is Leila James. I am 25 years old and from Australia. I’ve been in Japan for two years and I work as an English conversation teacher. I, uh, love living in Japan. I can ride my bike anywhere; I eat way too much convenience store food, like, every day… but I don’t really know many people yet.

SOFIA

OK, thank-

LEILA

Sorry, um, nice to meet you all. Let’s be friends!

Everyone claps.

SOFIA

Cute, Leila. Bit shorter next time. OK. You! Next!

INT. KYOTO – LEILA’S APARTMENT – NIGHT

Leila enters her dark apartment, still clutching her plastic bag. She puts the empty tins in the sink and spins once, squealing a little as she does.

Her phone buzzes and she stops for a moment to check the message.

SOPHIA’S MESSAGE (ENGLISH)

Coffee by the river tomorrow. Come!

She smiles and taps out a reply.

LEILA’S MESSAGE (ENGLISH)

Yep. See ya there.

She switches on a light, putting the phone down beside the sheet of paper with her list. She digs around for a pen, then does a large check mark next to “make new friends”.

Beneath that, in big, bold letters:

“Find a girlfriend.”

She puts the pen down beside it.

FADE TO BLACK.