SCENE 21: THE QUIET RETURN

INT. WILLIAM’S APARTMENT – DAY

TOP SHOT – THE RECORD PLAYER

A vinyl spins. Music already plays — a warm, jazzy instrumental. Light. Alive. Full of quiet possibility.

WIDE SHOT – THE ROOM

Golden afternoon light pours through the open curtains. The space is clean. Clear. Airy. No clutter. No chaos.

WILLIAM crosses the room — calm, unhurried.

He lowers himself into the armchair, like an exhale.

The music wraps around him — gentle and grounding.

WIDER SIDE ANGLE

He sits still.

The coffee table beside him — both in frame.

It’s empty.

CAMERA LINGERS – THE TABLE

No bottles. No papers. Just space.

The absence speaks.

CLOSE-UP – WILLIAM’S FACE (PORTRAIT)

He breathes in. Then out — slow, steady. Eyes close. The sunlight glows behind him — soft, golden.

A small smile. Peaceful.

Present.

The record plays on.

SCENE 22: THE QUIET TRUTH

INT. HER APARTMENT – NIGHT

Warm lamplight. Record crackles.

RUBY on the couch, flipping through a magazine.

SHE walks in with two mugs of tea.

Hands one to Ruby, sits beside her.

RUBY
(teasing)
No way you shot with her. Seriously?

SHE
(smiling)
Yeah.
(beat)
It was good.
(then, quieter)
It should’ve felt bigger.

A pause.

Ruby senses something’s shifted.

SHE
I don’t know.
Lately it’s like I’m doing everything
I thought I wanted — But it feels off.
Like there’s something I’m meant to be doing,
But I can’t name it yet.

RUBY
(nods)
That moment hits different, doesn’t it?
When you stop pretending it’s enough.

SHE
Yeah.
And I’m tired. Not from doing too much —
From doing what doesn’t feel right anymore.
I don’t even know what to do.

RUBY
You don’t need to figure it all out.
Just stop doing what’s not true to you anymore.
(beat)
Cut the noise.
And what’s real will finally have space to show up.

They sit with that.

Quiet.

No fixing. Just truth.

SCENE 23: DOORS UNLOCKED

INT. MUSIC STUDIO – NIGHT

The room hums — a faint vibration still in the air.

In the center: WILLIAM. Alone. Headphones on.

Surrounded by layers of sound — and flow.

His fingers ghost over strings.

A cinematic swell builds.

A deep, aching cello.

A violin shimmer.

Behind glass — in the side room: THOMAS, watching. Mid-conversation with JAYDEN, the engineer.

JAYDEN
You want clean?
Or more chaotic for this track?

THOMAS
(still watching William)
Whatever that sound is.
That’s what I want.

Jayden follows his gaze.

JAYDEN
Oh — that’s Will. Quiet guy.
Doesn’t say much.

THOMAS
He doesn’t need to.
(beat)
Turn it up.

Jayden nudges the fader. William’s music grows — more texture, more pull. It’s not polished. Not perfect.

But it’s undeniable.

INT. MUSIC STUDIO – MINUTES LATER

William removes his headphones.

Breathes.

Stretches. Still in it.

The door creaks open.

Thomas enters — calm, focused.

No intro. No small talk. Like he was meant to be here.

THOMAS
You composed that?

WILLIAM
(blinks)
Yeah... just sketches.

THOMAS
They don’t feel like sketches.
They feel real.

William looks at him — something unspoken lands.

THOMAS
I’m producing a film.
In New York for now.
And whatever that sound is —
That’s exactly what I’m looking for.

Thomas steps closer. Hands him a card. Simple. Weighted.

THOMAS
Come back tomorrow.
11 a.m. Let’s build something.

A pause — only a breath — William nods.

WILLIAM
Yeah.
I’ll be here.

Thomas turns to leave — But stops at the door.

Looks back.

THOMAS
You don’t need polish.
You just need a bigger room.

He exits. Door clicks shut.

William stands there. Looks at the card.

INSERT — CARD:

THOMAS CAINE

Just the name.

Just the weight.

He tucks it into his jacket.

Breathes again — not faster.

Deeper.

SCENE 24: THE BREAK

INT. LIVING ROOM – EVENING

CLOSE-UP – HER FACE

She inhales sharply. The room is dim. A soft lamp glows beside her. She lies on the couch, notebook in hand, scribbling — tense. Distant.
The faint hum of the city outside is the only sound.

SFX: The doorbell rings.

She looks up, surprised.

She opens the door —

CHAD stands there. Unbothered.

CHAD
(nonchalant)
Hey. You weren’t picking up.

HER
(cold, flat)
So?

He steps in without being invited. Like he always does.

CHAD
(acting casual)
Look, if you’re going to act like this—

She interrupts.

HER
(staring, incredulous)
Then what?
You’ll drag me lower?
That’s your thing, right?
I hit bottom — and then you’re satisfied?

CHAD
(blinks)
What is your problem?

HER
(voice steady)
That you’re happiest when I’m at my lowest.

He flinches.

Can’t hide the little smile.

Caught.

Unmasked.

CHAD
No—

HER
Yeah.
You were my problem.
(beat)
Get out.

She steps forward.

Calm. Clear. Final.

She opens the door.

Doesn’t look at him.

Waits.

HER
(quietly)
Now.

He steps out — still stunned.

She slams the door shut.

CLOSE-UP – HER BACK AGAINST THE DOOR

She slides down slowly, body trembling. Breathing shallow.

She’s not crying — just breaking.

CLOSE-UP – HER FACE

Eyes closed. A long breath.

And then — the slightest exhale.

Not relief, not yet.

SILENCE.

The camera holds on her for a beat longer.

She looks around the room —

The emptiness of it feeling suddenly overwhelming.

INT. KITCHEN – MINUTES LATER

She walks to the kitchen wall. The old landline hangs there.

She stares at it.

She picks it up.

Dials.

SFX: Ringtone. Then—

AUTOMATED VOICE (V.O.)

The person you are trying to reach is not available. Please leave a message after the tone.

BEEP.

HER
(soft, hesitant)
Hey, Dad. Um…
It’s been a long time.
I hope you’re okay.

She pauses. Fingers twisting the cord.

HER
I just…
I miss you.

A beat. Stillness.

HER
(softer)
Call me. Please.

She hangs up.

Stands there in silence.

The silence holds.

Then —

SFX: Keys jingle.

Door creaks open.

Amy bursts in, casual, loud, smiling.

AMY
Hey!
(beat, noticing her)
Oof — you good?

HER
(shrugs)
Just a shitty day.

AMY
(grinning)
Perfect. You’re coming out with us tomorrow.
No excuses. It’s happening.

She glances back at the phone.

Then at Amy.

Then nods.

A small surrender.

HER
(small smile)
Yeah.
Maybe I need that.

AMY
Yes. You’re gonna forget everything.

CLOSE-UP — HER FACE

Still heavy.

But something small shifts.

A quiet beginning of relief.

SCENE 25: BEFORE THE TURN

INT. WILLIAM’S APARTMENT – MORNING

Soft light slips through dusty blinds, casting long stripes across the floor.

WILLIAM moves with quiet urgency — combing his hair, spraying cologne, switching shirts. The apartment hasn’t changed. But he has.

WIDE SHOT

Stacks of sheet music. Coffee mugs. Old takeout boxes.

Still cluttered — but now, William stands in the middle. Shirt tucked in. Folder in hand.

Present. Clear. Ready.

He grabs his keys.

The business card.

His sheet music.

CLOSE-UP: THE MIRROR

He pauses.

Adjusts his collar.

Fixes one last button.

His reflection stares back — not perfect. Not fully steady. But willing.

WILLIAM
(softly, to himself)
You got this.

A breath.

Not nerves. Not ego. Just belief.

He nods once — like he’s locking it in.

DOOR OPENS.

He steps into the light.

And we hold.

Because this is the moment before.

And he’s finally ready for what’s next.

SCENE 26: STILLNESS

INT. HER BEDROOM – MORNING

Muted morning light slips through the blinds, painting soft lines across the room.

She lies curled beneath the blanket — still, quiet.

Eyes open. Awake. But far away.

A beat.

Her hand reaches toward the nightstand. Finds her notebook.

Opens to a blank page.

She stares.

Not at the page — but at the space between the lines.

Her gaze drifts toward the window.

The curtains shift in the breeze.

Outside — the gentle hush of morning.

She doesn’t write. She doesn’t move.

She just is.

Breathing.

Watching.

Feeling.

[published 27/6/2025]
>> signal sent