(no subject)
Author: openmydoors
Prompt #: 12
Warnings: An ending that doesn't make sense! Yay!
Wordcount: Around 900
Author's Notes: I went the unconventional route and tried something different. The formatting was difficult, and still isn't perfect. I hope it's readable.
INT/EXT. LESLIE TRENT’S CAR - NIGHT
JACKSON TRENT, a high school senior, glances at the rear view mirror as he drives along an empty residential street. He is dressed in a wrinkled shirt and dark jeans. He wears glasses. The houses he passes are identical to each other - large, picket-fenced, and expensive. There is no music playing in the car.
INT. LESLIE TRENT’S CAR - NIGHT
Jackson wipes his sweaty palms, one at a time, on his jeans. He adjusts his glasses.
EXT. SHOT - JESSICA MAK’S HOUSE
Establishing shot. It is the only house for blocks with its lights on. Faint heavy-bass music can be heard.
INT/EXT. LESLIE TRENT’S CAR - NIGHT
The car slows to a crawl and parks a block down from JESSICA MAK’S HOUSE. Jackson visibly relaxes once the car has come to a complete stop. He makes his way out of the seat and stands next to the open door, staring at JESSICA MAK’S HOUSE with tired eyes.
EXT. LESLIE TRENT’S CAR - NIGHT
Four silhouetted figures approach the car with drunken candor. The light from a nearby lamp post reveals them to be: SAMSON ALCANTRA, a rugby forward; VERONICA DOUGLAS, his barely conscious girlfriend; HUNTER WAKAYAMA, the school newspaper editor-in-chief and stoner extraordinaire; and IKE CHHOR, Jackson’s lab partner.
JACKSON
About time, you jerks. I’ve been waiting for half a freaking hour.
SAMSON
You seriously couldn’t park any closer?
HUNTER
Yeah, we woulda, like, got here earlier if you’d’ve parked closer to Jess’ house, man.
Hunter takes a drag off a half-finished joint and grins at Jackson.
JACKSON
A beat. Jackson shoots a glance at Ike, then at Hunter.
JACKSON
What the hell’s he doing here.
HUNTER
He just followed us out here man. He, like, lives near Ronnie or something. Isn’t that right, Ronnie?
Veronica mumbles something against Samson’s chest, and stumbles. Samson catches her easily. It has a recurring feel.
JACKSON
But Ronnie’s not going home tonight.
Jackson raises an eyebrow at Samson. Samson nods in confirmation.
IKE
So am I getting a ride or what?
Jackson scrubs a hand over his face, leaning on the car. Arguing with Ike is going to make his night longer, so he makes a decision.
JACKSON
Get the fuck in the car.
INT. LESLIE TRENT’S CAR - NIGHT
Hunter has taken the passenger seat, with Ike immediately behind Jackson. Samson looks huge, sitting in the middle. Veronica’s face is pressed against the cold glass of the car window.
IKE
Can we get some music up in here? Sounds like a funeral or something. I think I can hear crickets. Nope, make that definitely hear crickets.
Ike makes cricket sounds, then laughs at his own joke.
JACKSON
No music.
Ike stays silent for a beat, then starts singing.
JACKSON
No singing.
HUNTER
You don’t. The universe just hates you. Want some of this?
He offers the joint to Jackson.
JACKSON
HUNTER
Suit yourself.
EXT. HUNTER WAKAYAMA’S HOUSE - NIGHT
Hunter exits the car and waves beatifically back at the car while walking backwards. He stumbles once, and lets out chortle.
EXT. SAMSON ALCANTRA’S HOUSE - NIGHT
Samson ruffles Jackson’s hair before gently maneuvering Veronica out of the car.
SAMSON
See you in a couple hours, buddy.
Samson slams the door closed behind him with a foot. Jackson rolls down the passenger seat window.
JACKSON
Samson grins over his shoulder.
INT/EXT. LESLIE TRENT’S CAR - NIGHT
The car slows at a stop sign and comes to a stop. Jackson turns to face his unwanted passenger.
JACKSON
Where to, asshole?
IKE
You hungry? I’m starving. I know this place just down the road -
JACKSON
It’s the middle of the night, nothing up here’s open.
IKE
Sure it is. If we can’t find anything up here, though, we could always just nip downtown for a few -
JACKSON
It’s almost four in the morning, Ike. I’m not going downtown. Just tell me where to drop you off so I can get some shuteye before I fail my calc test, yeah?
Jackson turns back around to face the stop sign. Ike has fallen silent.
JACKSON
Ike.
IKE
376 Brentwood Avenue.
Jackson looks up at the rear view mirror, frowning.
JACKSON
Isn’t that where Ronnie lives?
Ike fidgets, looking outside the window to avoid responding.
JACKSON
Ike doesn’t respond. After a beat, he opens the door and hops out of the car without a word. He’s run half a block before Jackson can react. Jackson stares after him, mouth agape.
JACKSON
(quietly)
Ike, what the hell.
Prompt #: 12
Warnings: An ending that doesn't make sense! Yay!
Wordcount: Around 900
Author's Notes: I went the unconventional route and tried something different. The formatting was difficult, and still isn't perfect. I hope it's readable.
INT/EXT. LESLIE TRENT’S CAR - NIGHT
JACKSON TRENT, a high school senior, glances at the rear view mirror as he drives along an empty residential street. He is dressed in a wrinkled shirt and dark jeans. He wears glasses. The houses he passes are identical to each other - large, picket-fenced, and expensive. There is no music playing in the car.
INT. LESLIE TRENT’S CAR - NIGHT
Jackson wipes his sweaty palms, one at a time, on his jeans. He adjusts his glasses.
EXT. SHOT - JESSICA MAK’S HOUSE
Establishing shot. It is the only house for blocks with its lights on. Faint heavy-bass music can be heard.
INT/EXT. LESLIE TRENT’S CAR - NIGHT
The car slows to a crawl and parks a block down from JESSICA MAK’S HOUSE. Jackson visibly relaxes once the car has come to a complete stop. He makes his way out of the seat and stands next to the open door, staring at JESSICA MAK’S HOUSE with tired eyes.
EXT. LESLIE TRENT’S CAR - NIGHT
Four silhouetted figures approach the car with drunken candor. The light from a nearby lamp post reveals them to be: SAMSON ALCANTRA, a rugby forward; VERONICA DOUGLAS, his barely conscious girlfriend; HUNTER WAKAYAMA, the school newspaper editor-in-chief and stoner extraordinaire; and IKE CHHOR, Jackson’s lab partner.
JACKSON
About time, you jerks. I’ve been waiting for half a freaking hour.
SAMSON
You seriously couldn’t park any closer?
HUNTER
Yeah, we woulda, like, got here earlier if you’d’ve parked closer to Jess’ house, man.
Hunter takes a drag off a half-finished joint and grins at Jackson.
JACKSON
- (snorting)
A beat. Jackson shoots a glance at Ike, then at Hunter.
JACKSON
What the hell’s he doing here.
HUNTER
He just followed us out here man. He, like, lives near Ronnie or something. Isn’t that right, Ronnie?
Veronica mumbles something against Samson’s chest, and stumbles. Samson catches her easily. It has a recurring feel.
JACKSON
But Ronnie’s not going home tonight.
Jackson raises an eyebrow at Samson. Samson nods in confirmation.
IKE
So am I getting a ride or what?
Jackson scrubs a hand over his face, leaning on the car. Arguing with Ike is going to make his night longer, so he makes a decision.
JACKSON
Get the fuck in the car.
INT. LESLIE TRENT’S CAR - NIGHT
Hunter has taken the passenger seat, with Ike immediately behind Jackson. Samson looks huge, sitting in the middle. Veronica’s face is pressed against the cold glass of the car window.
IKE
Can we get some music up in here? Sounds like a funeral or something. I think I can hear crickets. Nope, make that definitely hear crickets.
Ike makes cricket sounds, then laughs at his own joke.
JACKSON
No music.
Ike stays silent for a beat, then starts singing.
JACKSON
No singing.
- (to Hunter)
HUNTER
You don’t. The universe just hates you. Want some of this?
He offers the joint to Jackson.
JACKSON
- (exasperated)
HUNTER
Suit yourself.
EXT. HUNTER WAKAYAMA’S HOUSE - NIGHT
Hunter exits the car and waves beatifically back at the car while walking backwards. He stumbles once, and lets out chortle.
EXT. SAMSON ALCANTRA’S HOUSE - NIGHT
Samson ruffles Jackson’s hair before gently maneuvering Veronica out of the car.
SAMSON
See you in a couple hours, buddy.
Samson slams the door closed behind him with a foot. Jackson rolls down the passenger seat window.
JACKSON
- (yelling)
Samson grins over his shoulder.
INT/EXT. LESLIE TRENT’S CAR - NIGHT
The car slows at a stop sign and comes to a stop. Jackson turns to face his unwanted passenger.
JACKSON
Where to, asshole?
IKE
You hungry? I’m starving. I know this place just down the road -
JACKSON
It’s the middle of the night, nothing up here’s open.
IKE
Sure it is. If we can’t find anything up here, though, we could always just nip downtown for a few -
JACKSON
It’s almost four in the morning, Ike. I’m not going downtown. Just tell me where to drop you off so I can get some shuteye before I fail my calc test, yeah?
Jackson turns back around to face the stop sign. Ike has fallen silent.
JACKSON
Ike.
IKE
376 Brentwood Avenue.
Jackson looks up at the rear view mirror, frowning.
JACKSON
Isn’t that where Ronnie lives?
Ike fidgets, looking outside the window to avoid responding.
JACKSON
- (losing his patience)
Ike doesn’t respond. After a beat, he opens the door and hops out of the car without a word. He’s run half a block before Jackson can react. Jackson stares after him, mouth agape.
JACKSON
(quietly)
Ike, what the hell.