Post by Deleted on Jun 18, 2016 17:20:09 GMT
FADE IN:
EXT. GRAYLAND BEACH – SEATTLE, WASHINGTON – JUNE 5TH, 2016
Grayland beach is deserted as a storm moves in from the west. Rain crashes down on the sandy beach as waves rush ashore.
A black Camaro sits parked, ignition off in the middle of the beach.
On the hood, sitting is JACK OWYNS, with a bottle of Jack Daniels in his hand. The bottle is almost empty. JACK takes another chug.
CUT TO:
INT. HOTEL ROOM – SEATTLE, WASHINGTON – EARLIER IN THE DAY
JACK OWYNS and DEANNA GREENE stand inside the hotel room. DEANNA has her arms folded, and from her facial expression, she is pissed off.
DEANNA GREENE
“You promised me. Jack, you
promised her!”
“You promised me. Jack, you
promised her!”
She points at MACKENZIE, who sits with earphones covering her ears as she watches a movie on her iPad.
DEANNA GREENE (CONT’D)
“Her, Jack, your daughter! You
told us you were done when
you got out. Done, Jack!”
“Her, Jack, your daughter! You
told us you were done when
you got out. Done, Jack!”
She unfolds her arms and clenches her fists.
DEANNA GREENE (CONT’D)
“I’m so stupid to think you,
of all people, could ever
change.”
“I’m so stupid to think you,
of all people, could ever
change.”
CUT TO:
EXT. GRAYLAND BEACH – SEATTLE, WASHINGTON – PRESENT
JACK empties the rest of the Jack Daniels, drinking down every last drop in the bottle. He pushes himself up from the hood of his black Camaro and steps away from his car. He walks towards the rough ocean, now completely soaking wet from the rain.
CUT TO:
INT. HOTEL ROOM – SEATTLE, WASHINGTON – EARLIER IN THE DAY
JACK OWYNS is no longer paying attention to DEANNA GREENE; instead, all his attention is on his daughter, MACKENZIE GREENE.
DEANNA GREENE
“You almost got your daughter
killed! Does that even
register with you!?”
killed! Does that even
register with you!?”
MACKENZIE looks away from her iPad and gives JACK a smile. A fresh bruise still on her face.
DEANNA GREENE (CONT’D)
“You, you. I’m done with this,
Jack; I promise you this. You
will never, ever—and I mean
ever—see her again.”
“You, you. I’m done with this,
Jack; I promise you this. You
will never, ever—and I mean
ever—see her again.”
JACK looked to DEANNA.
CUT TO:
EXT. GRAYLAND BEACH – SEATTLE, WASHINGTON – PRESENT
JACK’S steel-toe boots are fully under water as he stands on the shoreline.
JACK OWYNS (O.S.)
“I will fix this.”
“I will fix this.”
He hurls the empty Jack Daniels bottle into the ocean.
DEANNA GREENE (O.S.)
“It’s too late, Jack.”
“It’s too late, Jack.”
The sound of thunders rumbles above.
JACK OWYNS (O.S.)
“I—“
DEANNA GREENE (O.S.)
“Bye Jack.”
“I—“
DEANNA GREENE (O.S.)
“Bye Jack.”
JACK stared out into the ocean, with a look of misery and a look of complete fucking rage.
He spits into the ocean.
CUT TO:
EXT. GRAYLAND BEACH – SEATTLE, WASHINGTON – THE NEXT MORNING
The sun beams down on him as JACK rests against the tire of his car. He is passed out when that ever so annoying default iPhone ring begins blaring from his hoodie pocket. His eyelid flickers, trying to adjust to the sunlight burning his eyes as he blindly tries to find his cell phone. His new cell phone since he destroyed his other one the other day.
He pulls it from his pocket. The screen reads “UNKNOWN CALLER.”
He clicks answer and places it to his ear, and a voice speaks.
JACK OWYNS
“What? I– Who the fuck is
this? I don’t know no
Shawn fuckin’ DeLise.”
“What? I– Who the fuck is
this? I don’t know no
Shawn fuckin’ DeLise.”
The voice chats up a storm on the other end.
JACK OWYNS
“Deathcore is fuckin’ closed?
What? When? Are you fuckin’
kidding me right now?”
“Deathcore is fuckin’ closed?
What? When? Are you fuckin’
kidding me right now?”
JACK’S eyesopen as he notices people gathering, pointing and whispering at him. He flips them off.
JACK OWYNS
“San Fran? Joe DeLise. Yeah, name
sounds fuckin’ familiar. Fuck it.
I need a job. I’ll fuckin’ hear
you out.”
“San Fran? Joe DeLise. Yeah, name
sounds fuckin’ familiar. Fuck it.
I need a job. I’ll fuckin’ hear
you out.”
The voice on the other side responds.
JACK OWYNS
“I’ll be there when I fuckin’
get there.”
JACK hangs up his phone, rubs his eyes and takes another look at the people watching.
JACK OWYNS
“What the fuck you all looking at!?”
“What the fuck you all looking at!?”
He pulls himself up as people begin to scramble away. He digs into his pocket, finds his keys, and enters his black Camaro.
FADE TO BLACK.
