drama

"BYLINE" v1

INT. D.C. APARTMENT - DAY
Morning sunlight creeps through the shades on the window,
illuminating the floor. There are open Chinese takeout boxes
everywhere and stacks of papers and files on the cluttered
coffee table. A laptop is left half-open in the midst of the
stack, purring softly.
CU: There is a small picture frame on the end table beside
the couch. In it, a mid-20s couple is holding one another
smiling wide in what looks like a park.
Suddenly, a shrill buzz cuts through the sleepy air as a
cellphone alarm sounds. RHYS BECKETT stirs awake on a brown
leather couch, rubbing his eyes.
CU: The cellphone reads 8:30 AM with "WORK" bouncing
frantically on the screen.
RHYS drowsily reaches for the phone and taps the alarm away.
He sits up, takes a glance around his surroundings, almost as
if he is unsure of where he is. Then, he reaches for the
remote buried between the couch cushions and clicks on his
television.
MS: A news anchor's talking head appears on screen. RHYS gets
up to walk to the bathroom while the anchor continues with
the morning's breaking stories.
                  ANCHOR
         We're receiving reports this morning that
         members of the Senate were unable to reach
         a consensus over the President's proposed
         Social Security Plan, leading officials to
         believe that tomorrow's vote will once
         again be postponed. We're still awaiting
         comment from the White House on how the
         postponement will affect the contents of
         the Bill going forward. When we come back,
         is D.C.'s designer drug epidemic reaching
         new heights? Correspondent Lacie Danvers
         has more on the story.
RHYS brushes his teeth in the mirror, smiling mockingly at
his messy appearance, before turning on the shower. He turns
back to the mirror.

RHYS (huffs)

         Epidemic, huh?
He takes off his clothes and steps into the shower.
INT. D.C. APARTMENT - HALLWAY - DAY
RHYS exits his apartment, beanie on and jacket in hand as he
prepares to go to work. He is locking his apartment door when
the elevator dings in the distance. The doors slide apart and
out steps KATIE, a cute late-20s brunette. She's dressed in
chic sporty leggings and a jogging sweater that cant quite
hide how well-endowed she is and a headband. She has
headphones in but quickly takes them out as she approaches
RHYS.
                  KATIE
         Hi, Rhys. Long time no see.
RHYS, oblivious to her presence as he fiddles with his lock,
turns around.
                  RHYS
         Hmm? Oh, hey Katie. Uh, yea my bad. Lot of
         late nights recently. Work stuff, ya know.
         How ya been?
                  KATIE
         Can't complain. Haven't gotten much sleep
         lately though. I-I mean I've just been
         having trouble sleeping lately, so my
         doctor suggested I start exercising more.
         Figured I'd start today with a run.
                  RHYS
         You and me both.
KATIE looks him up and down, a smirk forming on her lips.
                  KATIE
         You sure you wanna go like that?
                  RHYS
         What? OH! Sorry, no I meant with the whole
         not sleeping thing. I'm just so-so busy
         lately that I'm either not laying down till
         like 5 a.m. or straight pulling all-
         nighters, which, if you haven't noticed by
         now, I am clearly way too old for.

> CUT TO:

1.

                  KATIE
              (chuckles)
         Oh I noticed...Well, if not sleeping is the
         game, I'd be happy to stop by sometime. We
         can keep each other company. Whaddaya say?
RHYS hesitates. KATIE looks up at him, a little flustered.
                  RHYS
         Uh-uh, yeah sure! I gotta run, but I'll see
         you later okay?
He starts off down the hallway toward the elevator.
MS: KATIE watches him for a moment before opening the door
across from his and going inside her apartment.

>CUT TO:

INT. NEWSPAPER OFFICE - DAY
RHYS walks through the front door of his publication's
building, bundled tight from the cold, coffee in hand. His
face is sullen, disinterested. As he buzzes through the
second door with his badge, he sees his Editor, JACK, mid-
40s, marching towards him pointing at the coffee cup.
                  JACK
         That from the cart on 6th Ave?
                  RHYS
         Nope. 8th.
                  JACK
         DAMNIT! You know I like the one on 6th!
                  RHYS
         Yah, I DO know. Which is why I purposely go
         four blocks out of my way every morning to
         the one on 8th so you won't steal my
         fucking coffee.
RHYS walks past JACK to his desk with JACK following behind.

2.

                  JACK
         Hey, don't get mad at me cause I prefer to
         start my day with quality, not that watered
         down bullshit. But, I'm actually surprised
         to see you here at all to be honest. I
         thought you'd submit remotely again this
         week. Figured you were still sulking.
                  RHYS
         I am not sulking.
RHYS unbuttons his coat and sits down at his cubicle.
                  JACK
         Fine. Brooding then, whatever you wanna
         call being holed up in that musty apartment
         for the last two and a half weeks.
JACK leans in, looking around to make sure he isn't
overheard.
                  JACK
         Well? Have you heard from her at least?
                  RHYS
              (irritated)
         No Jack, I haven't heard from her. Any
         other personal questions you wanna ask or
         can I get to work now?
                  JACK
         Don't be a dick alright? I'm just checking
         on you. And yes actually, where's that
         Senate piece you owe me? I don't know if
         you've taken a break from your "Fortress of
         Solitude" long enough to notice, but the
         real world's still going to shit. The vote
         will most likely get postponed to next week
         which makes your original angle stale. The
         Hill is your beat, so I'm gonna need
         something else to fill the page by
         Wednesday's meeting, otherwise it's both
         our asses.

3.

RHYS (sighs)

         I know, alright. Don't worry, I'll figure
         something out.
                  JACK
         Oh, I'm sure you will. I'd hate to have to
         fire you on you're first week back.
JACK picks up the coffee cup and takes a sip as he walks
away.
                  JACK
              (murmurs)
         Ugh, horrible.
RHYS, annoyed but not exactly surprised, watches him walk
away with his cup. He turns back toward his laptop and begins
his research.

>CUT TO:

INT. NEWSPAPER OFFICE - AFTERNOON
CU: The small digital clock on RHYS' desk reads 1:30 PM.
RHYS looks around the office cautiously as other reporters
chat with each other and make their way out the building to
lunch. He looks once more at the clock, then carefully opens
a cabinet on the floor and retrieves something from inside.
CU: It's a small prescription pill bottle. The label reads
Fentanyl. There is no patient name, but the description reads
ANXIETY.
He slides the bottle into is pocket and stands up, heading
towards the Men's restroom.
INT. MENS RESTROOM - AFTERNOON
RHYS opens the nearest stall and steps inside.
MS: His face and demeanor have changed. He is no longer calm
and collected but manic looking, as he frantically fiddles
with the bottle cap.

>CUT TO:

4.

As he attempts to open the cap, he hears the bathroom door
swing open, startling him. The cap pops off and many of the
small white pills fall straight into the toilet below.
                  RHYS
              (whispers)
                  SHIT!
CU: The inside of the bottle only has three pills left.
Annoyed, he quickly tosses the pills back down his throat,
flushes the evidence in the toilet, and hurriedly exits the
restroom.

> CUT TO:

INT. NEWSPAPER OFFICE - AFTERNOON
We see RHYS march up to his desk and quickly grab his coat
from the back of his chair.

CUT TO:

EXT. ALLEYWAY - AFTERNOON
RHYS is standing in the alleyway smoking a cigarette, bundled
tight as he hides from the wind chill. He pulls his phone out
from his coat pocket to check the time. It's 2:25 P.M
                  RHYS
              (shivers)
         Where the fuck is this kid?
Suddenly there is a short screech of bike tires coming to a
halt. A YOUNG MAN, barely 25, gets off the bike and walks it
toward the alleyway. He is dressed in a blue bubble jacket,
grey sweat shorts, and a beanie, with a heavy-looking
backpack. RHYS has a confused expression as he looks the
YOUNG MAN up and down.
                  RHYS
         Shorts? You're shitting me? You do realize
         it's like 30 degrees right now, right?
RHYS pulls his wallet from his back pocket as the YOUNG MAN
unzips the backpack.

5.

                  YOUNG MAN
         Hmm? Oh, nah I barely noticed. I'm from
         Connecticut, bro. This pussy cold don't
         even phase me. How much you need fam? I
         gotta say you ran out pretty quick.
He laughs as he pulls a black binder from the backpack and
opens one of the flaps. Inside is full of pills, all
different shapes, sizes, and colors. RHYS hands him the $200
cash from the wallet.
                  RHYS
         Same as before, just the scripts. I, uh,
         lost the last bottle somewhere.
                  YOUNG MAN
         Oh Fasho, bro, no worries. Well as long as
         the money's good, you can "lose" it as much
         as you want.
The YOUNG MAN flicks through the bills with his thumb before
tucking the money in his inside jacket pocket. He packs the
binder back in the bag and picks up his bike. He checks his
watch.
                  YOUNG MAN
              Ahh SHIT!
                  RHYS
              (startled)

                           What, what!?

                  YOUNG MAN
         I'mma be late for class again, fuck...I'll
         catch you later bro! Hit my line if you
         need me.
Without another word he jumps onto the bike and dashes off
down the street. RHYS, surprised, watches him leave before
exiting the alley.
                  RHYS
              (sarcastic)
         Okay, "BRO"...
HE heads down the street back toward his building.
MS: In the distance a black sedan cooly pulls away from the
curb across the street from the alley.

6.

7. CUT TO: