TBT1
FADE IN: INT. NEW YORK SUBWAY STATION - NIGHT It's late. Only a handful of people in the station. This makes it especially hard to miss the THREE MIDTWENTIES YOUNG WOMEN standing around in FORMAL GOWNS. Prada, Dior, Atelier Versace. Their shoes and bling are equally impressive. But while their outfits are lavish, their demeanor is pretty beat down. The young women in question are: JANE SLOAN, equal parts passion and determination. She’s Type A and driven. She always known that one day she would move to New York. She deeply loves the city, but sometimes gets a little overwhelmed by it. KAT EDISON, African American, bold, fearless. She was a gifted and overpraised child who grew into a young woman who has absolutely no idea that she's supposed to be intimidated by anyone. SUTTON BRADY, humble and dependable. Her hard work ethic is a definite byproduct of growing up in tough financial circumstances. She's too classy to flaunt her Ivy League degree, or maybe it's just that in this world it's not cool to admit she had to pay for it herself. But for this moment, all you really need to know about them is that they’ve definitely had better days. There's a palpable exhaustion here. Jane tugs at her Spanx. From the distance, we hear the EXPRESS TRAIN approaching. It doesn't stop at this station, which means that when it passes through, it will be crazy fast and crazy LOUD. In anticipation, a MAN puts his fingers in his ears. Jane sees this. Something about it gives her pause. She glances at Kat with a quick raise of her eyebrows as if to say, “Shall we?” Kat responds with a tired shrug. Jane turns to Sutton next. Sutton nods, a defiant smile forming. Together, Jane and Sutton step closer to the edge of the platform. Jane looks away. Jane and Sutton, now at the very edge, join hands. The train is getting closer. And closer. And closer. ISSUES - 2nd Rev. Network Draft - 5/27/2016 1. Kat can’t fight it any longer. She joins her friends, taking Jane’s free hand. The TRAIN explodes into frame. It's so loud that everyone else shrinks from the sound. But not our girls. They lean into it. AND SCREAM AS LOUD AS THEY FUCKING CAN. Their screams are drowned out by the sound of the train. Nobody else in the station even bothers looking up. If they notice, they don't care. This is New York. We FREEZE on the girls mid-scream, hair flying wildly from the wind of the train, and splash our TITLE CARD ACROSS THEIR FACES.