EXT. SEATTLE

CUT TO:

INT. COFFEE SHOP-DAY

It is a cold and rainy day in Washington State. There are clouds forming overhead, an indicator of a continuing storm expected to last many more hours and possibly throughout the night. Kayla scrolls through her camera at all of the images she has captured of seattle and all who inhabit it. She observes through the window many Seattle natives who are walking through the downpour without an umbrella.

KAYLA

It must be a Seattle thing.. people walking in the rain without an umbrella.. without a care in the world they are getting soaked by this terrible weather.

The weather is calming down some; Kayla takes advantage of this and steps outside of the gloomy coffee shop. She stands queitly in front of the mirrored window with her camera in one hand, the other hand glides its fingers gently across the pinwheel allowing her to view the art she has captured recently in Seattle.

NAMELESS STRANGER

Hey!!!

Kayla had been mezmorized by her camera but is suddenly caught off guard by the screams echoing in the distance.

NAMELESS STRANGER

Nice camera!

Kayla isnt used to being yelled at and doesnt believe the shouting is directed toward her or her middle class canon camera

NAMELESS STRANGER

Are you taking pictures of the buildings here too?!

Kayla is still caught off guard and has a look of confusion which doesnt phase the stranger

NAMELESS STRANGER

There is a competition here you know… and a grand prize… we meet here every month

The words are a jumble for Kayla’s ears as she struggles to keep up with his rapid spit fire. A competition is something she would never be prepared for, there are way too many photographers in Seattle to compete with and the quality of her camera isn’t even that good.

NAMELESS STRANGER

Well, it was good talking to you!

The stranger shouts out as he tramples by Kayla, knocking her camera out of her hand and onto the wet slick concrete of Seattle’s toughest streets. She quickly bows to the ground, ignoring all scratches and bruises developing on her knees as she kneels to the floor. Positively her dreams are over now. She surveys the camera, the screen is cracked, the lens has been shattered to pieces. The young man is long gone now, it seems as if her ambitions have followed him.

Kayla looks up and reads a sign placed above her head

KAYLA

Washington Street Meet… grand prize $5000… every last Sunday of the month…

the thought rings heavy in her head as she has never held such an amount of money in her fingertips before, and with conviction, never will. It seems this morning she may have been destined for greatness and with a swift kick to the nuts it was all taken away by a mysterious stranger.

The rain begins to pick up and the wind starts to rear its ugly head once again. It’s getting late and darkness is beginning to spread across the stormy blue skies. Kayla shuffles across the block to the rundown apartment building approximately three miles down the street from the dainty café she recently vacated. The thought of hundred-dollar bills drift through her mind as she eases into a long night of heart broken dreams.

The days passed slowly, drearily. It was the day of the big street meet and she knew all the top photographers from Seattle would be there. Kayla scooped up her broken camera and her old iPhone and hit the streets. As she came across the location destined to hold the locally famous event, her palms sweat profusely in anticipation. There were thousands of people there… photographers, models, and then there was her.

As Kayla approached a group of fellow photographers she noticed a familiar face in the crowd; the younger man that knocked the camera out of her hands.

NAMELESS STRANGER

Its so good to see you here!

The stranger seems clueless to the events which took place a few days prior but notices the damage to Kayla’s camera.

KAYLA

I figured i would stop by, just to get one picture

Kayla then held her phone up to the building adjacent from the couple and took a quick shot

KAYLA

There… that’ll have to do

She walked quietly away knowing that the battle inside of her was not unleashed. That although her desires were blocked due to the circumstances he brought upon her, she would not drag that guilt onto him.

When she arrived home that night she uploaded the photo to the contest site as a small consolation prize to the minor accomplishment she made that day. She would never win with the photo she submitted, but the idea of putting her art into motion made her feel as if she won a million dollars.

Weeks later Kayla received a phone call from a mysterious number that hadn’t been saved into her phone. It wasn’t like her to answer phone calls from strangers. Kayla pressed her finger against the screen and answered the phone

CALLER ON THE OTHER LINE- Distorted

Hello… i… -static- building in Seattle…

KAYLA

Another scam call… i should have known

Again the number rang loud through the silence. She opened her phone once more to hear a much louder voice speaking quickly in the distance.

CALLER ON THE OTHER LINE

You entered your photo into the Washington Street meet! It was incredible! You have what it takes to be the best and we have chosen you to win the grand prize!

KAYLA

Wow… i guess i didnt need a fancy camera to take amazing pictures… maybe im not just another Seattle photographer

The rain has slowed now, as Kayla steps outside of the gloomy old coffee shop she observes a handful of individuals clicking away with their cameras. Is it because the year is 2018 that everyone is a photographer now or is it just Seattle, she wonders. The way the sun is shining off every mirror glass window in this city is mesmerizing… a thought that crosses many a traveler’s mind, surely. Kayla lifts her camera every so precisely, so the small edge of the camera screen aligns perfectly to her golden eyes. Click, click, click the sound is rapid as she solidifies the moment in her handheld device forever.

A proud moment for Kayla, she strums her fingers along the circular wheel that allows her to shift through the pictures she has taken that day. “HEY!!” The scream stops her in her tracks. “Nice camera!” Screams a voice off in the distance. Certainly that voice wasn’t meant for me, she thinks, as her camera is anything but the fanciest piece of equipment on the block.

The sound gets closer as a younger gentleman scurries into her view. Kayla peers upward at this tall figure who appears to be carrying a fine piece of technology around his neck. “Are you taking pictures of the buildings here too?” He rambles on as Kayla continues to stand spooked and a little off guard. “There’s a competition you know… we meet up here every month… and there is a grand prize…” The words are a jumble for Kayla’s ears as she struggles to keep up with his rapid spit fire. A competition is something she would never be prepared for, there are way too many photographers in Seattle to compete with and the quality of her camera isn’t even that good.

“Well, it was good talking to you!” the stranger shouts as he tramples by Kayla, knocking her camera out of her hand and onto the wet slick concrete of Seattle’s toughest streets. She quickly bows to the ground, ignoring all scratches and bruises developing on her knees as she kneels to the floor. Positively her dreams are over now. She surveys the camera, the screen is cracked, the lens has been shattered to pieces. The young man is long gone now, it seems as if her ambitions have followed him.

A sign floats over her head as she stands up carrying the chunk of metal that was once her camera. “Washington Street Meet… grand prize $5000… every last Sunday of the month” “$5000” she whispers… the thought rings heavy in her head as she has never held such an amount of money in her fingertips before, and with conviction, never will. It seems this morning she may have been destined for greatness and with a swift kick to the nuts it was all taken away by a mysterious stranger.

The rain begins to pick up and the wind starts to rear its ugly head once again. It’s getting late and darkness is beginning to spread across the stormy blue skies. Kayla shuffles across the block to the rundown apartment building approximately three miles down the street from the dainty café she recently vacated. The thought of hundred-dollar bills drift through her mind as she eases into a long night of heart broken dreams.

The thought had never crossed her mind before; turning her hobby into cash at the Washington street meet. She woke up to the light shining brightly in her sky high apartment window on the left hand side and as she rolled over she noticed a broken camera to her right. The Washington street meet is only two days away and there’s no way she was going to be ready for it so soon.

The days passed slowly, drearily. It was the day of the big street meet and she knew all the top photographers from Seattle would be there. Kayla scooped up her broken camera and her old iPhone and hit the streets. As she came across the location destined to hold the locally famous event, her palms sweat profusely in anticipation. There were thousands of people there… photographers, models, and then there was her.

As Kayla approached a group of fellow photographers she noticed a familiar face in the crowd; the younger man that knocked the camera out of her hands. He seemed excited to see Kayla, as if the event that happened the night before were a thing of the past, but then again, he never turned around to see the damage he had done, so there were no problems in his eyes. He gave her a million dollar smile as she confronted him with an expression that could cut like glass. The gentleman looked down at the broken camera and noticed the visible scars across the screen.

The innocence in his eyes left her feeling as if she shouldn’t go so hard on him but the welts in her eyes from the tears building up told a different story. “Its so nice to see you here!” he exclaimed. “I figured I would stop by, just to get one picture” she said. Kayla then held her phone up to the building adjacent from the couple and took a quick shot. “There” She stated, “That’ll have to do” She walked quietly away knowing that the battle inside of her was not unleashed. That although her desires were blocked due to the circumstances he brought upon her, she would not drag that guilt onto him.

When she arrived home that night she uploaded the photo to the contest site as a small consolation prize to the minor accomplishment she made that day. She would never win with the photo she submitted, but the idea of putting her art into motion made her feel as if she won a million dollars.

Weeks later Kayla received a phone call from a mysterious number that hadn’t been saved into her phone. It wasn’t like her to answer phone calls from strangers. The repetitive scam calls from Nigerian princes had her traumatized of ever answering the phone to a number she had never seen before, but something about this number gave her a trickle of faith. On the final ring Kayla pressed her finger steadily against the cold screen of her old iPhone.

A raspy voice in the background mumbled something about a building in Seattle and then the line got staticky. “Another scam call” she thought to herself as she put down the phone. But yet again the number rang loud through the silence. She opened her phone once more to hear a much louder voice speaking quickly in the distance. “You entered your photo into the Washington Street meet! It was incredible! You have what it takes to be the best and we have chosen you to win the grand prize!” Her heart stopped as she heard the man on the other line yelling these words into her ears. She didn't need a fancy camera to take great pictures… I guess in the end, she wasn’t just another Seattle Photographer.

JERRY: [still breathing, but barely] I live in a four-story brownstone rooming-house on the upper West Side between Columbus Avenue and Central Park West. [he spits out droplets of blood as he stutters out these words] I live on the top floor…. and I planned to walk north to the zoo…. [he talks more rapidly now]

POLICE OFFICER: [flabbergasted] Sir… are you okay?! Let me call a medic! [He scrambles for his mic and wearily mumbles to the dispatcher on the other line]

JERRY: [face down in a puddle of his own blood which continues to drip steady from his mouth, but still screams out excitedly] No need! [he stands now, barely] You see, I walk this way quite often! I don’t often talk to strangers, unless of course I'm asking for a beer or the directions to the john…

POLICE OFFICER; [still in shock] Sir, who did this to you?! You must lay back down!

JERRY: Every once in a while I like to talk to someone… get to know them, ya know?

[an ambulance finally arrives]

JERRY: While I would love to chat, I really must get to the zoo… you see, at the zoo… [he continues to mumble under his breath] I'm trying to learn more about the way humans exist with animals!

[Medic walks toward Jerry cautiously]

JERRY: This is about more than just a bench… [he rips the knife from his stomach and begins to wave it at the medic] You need to fight for your self respect!

[Police officer draws his weapon and points it at Jerry]

POLICE OFFICER: Drop the weapon or I will have to use deadly force!

JERRY: [waves the knife proudly] Fight me for your dignity!

[Officer shoots Jerry, he lies there motionless, he is finally dead]

[a phone rings loudly in Jerry’s pocket, it is the mental hospital]

MENTAL HOSPITAL NURSE: [in a frantic voice] JERRY?! We have been searching for you! Please give us your location so we can pick you up!

POLICE OFFICER: [quietly into phone] He lives in a four story house on the upper west side, he planned to walk north to the zoo… [he continues on to tell his story]

I had spent so much time being alone, i thought i had it all figured out. “If i can just push everyone away, neglect all possible hapiness i could invoke amongst myself, or anyone else for that matter, one day, the “right one” will fight my demons… and love me enough to stay. “ It seemed easy enough right? Then one day he arrived.

There was something so charming about a man who was nothing like myself. Quiet when i was loud, low key when i was high paced. I took care of him like a child… cleaning up after him, the messes he made throughout the house, out in public, using my emotions as a mop and our belongings as a…

Anyway.. he loved his mother and called her every day. There’s a lot to say about a man that loves his mother… and his sister too, if he loves them so unconditionally, imagine how he would love me. What a strange way to think. I will cook for him, i will clean for him, ill act as a man and a woman and a mother and… wait…

The councelor says its because i was always alone growing up. Its because i was an only child in a house that didnt pay any attention to me. Its because im reaching out for love in situations that feel familiar to me. “It seems like in your childhood, everyone left you, youre holding on to him because you want, just for once, for someone to stay” They’re all wrong though, i want him to stay because i need him in my life… wait… need?

“It seems like in your childhood everyone left you, you’re holding on to him because you want, just for once, for someone to stay”

He reminded me of a time when i begged him to stay. It was about two years ago that this situation happened. I remember crying harder than i ever have as i held on to his body like an anchor in the roughest seas. What would i do without him? I had pushed everyone away for so long, he was the only person i wanted to stay… he had to be the one, right? “You need me” he said during a time that i finally worked up the courage to stand up to this cowardly lion.

The truth that i found within myself is that i do not need. It is safe to use the word “want” but the only things in life we need are air, water, sleep and food. He is sorry though. He is going to change as soon as he gets home. He will cook. He will clean. He will be a changed man soon. He says we are meant to be. He says he will never leave. I guess the counselor was right when she said i just wanted someone who would stay.