INT. 12TH FLOOR KANE ADVERTISING OFFICE BUILDING — EVENING LEAH, a 32-year-old businesswoman sits at the head of a long glass table. Her brown hair is pulled back into a severe bun and her white button up shirt is no longer tucked into her navy suit pants. She takes a deep breath, rubs her green eyes, and relaxes back into her chair. LEAH clears her throat to get everyone’s attention. LEAH: Alright, everyone, I guess that’s enough for tonight. I’ll see everyone tomorrow at six. BRET: Six? It’s eight o’clock now. We can’t come in a little later? You know, since we stayed three hours over today? LEAH stands, bends over, and places her hands on the table in front of her.
LEAH: Yes, Bret. Six. This company isn’t run by slackers. We have work to do. Sometimes you have to put forth a little effort. BRET, a 30-year-old man with dark blonde hair, an angry hazel stare, and a sneer, rolls his eyes. He stands, puts his tan suit jacket back on over his blue shirt, and grabs his suitcase and tie. He then looks at LEAH. BRET: Yes, Madam Drill Sergeant. Everyone but LEAH walks out the conference room door. She sits back down in her chair and opens her laptop. LEAH types for a few minutes before she abruptly stops, puts her hands over her face, and lets out a sob. INT. MULLIGANS PUB — LATE NIGHT BRET is shooting pool with his cousin LOGAN, while they wait for their food. BRET: What the hell is taking her so long? LOGAN: Dude, chill out. We barely ordered five minutes ago. BRET: Well, since I have to get up in less than six hours, I don’t have much time. LOGAN: That sucks. Why’s your team leader being such a hard-ass? Is this project that important? BRET: No. It’s not even one of our bigger clients. She probably just needs to get laid. LOGAN: I can help with that. BRET smiles at LOGAN, then looks at his phone that started beeping. BRET scowls at the message. LOGAN: That Aunt Penny? BRET: Yeah. She’s been messaging me all day, asking me what to do next. Everyone she talks to just keeps shutting her down. LOGAN: What did they call Adam’s death? “A bombing accident”? They won’t tell you anything else? BRET (angrily): No. My brother died fighting with them and all they can do is give us the runaround on how and why he died. BRET squeezes his phone in his hand until his knuckles turn white. LOGAN: That’s some bull, man. I’m sorry. The waitress walks over with their food. INT. 12TH FLOOR KANE ADVERTISING OFFICE BUILDING — MORNING BRET walks into the conference room last. LEAH stands at the front as the last person sits. LEAH stares at BRET in the doorway. LEAH (sarcastically sweet): Ah, Bret, only five minutes late. Must be a good day, since you’re here so early. BRET (mumbling): Why are you in charge? LEAH: Okay, now that everyone is here, let’s get started. Everyone at the table looks down at their files and laptops. BRET continues to glare at LEAH. INT. REID CAFE — AFTERNOON LEAH sits at a table for two with her sister JEN, a 28-year-old woman with brunette hair and hazel eyes. They are drinking their coffee, waiting on their lunch. JEN: Can’t believe you found the time to have lunch with me. LEAH: No offense, but I would have preferred working through lunch. But, everyone else whined about a break. JEN: You’ve been working, like, a ridiculous amount of time lately. LEAH: I have stuff to get done. I have a demanding job. JEN: Just odd that your job wasn’t this demanding until last month. LEAH (irritated): We are not talking about this. JEN: Why? Why can’t we ever talk about mom? You’re the only one that misses her like I do. We were her only kids. LEAH (angrily): We are not talking about this. JEN: This? She was our mother. You act like if you ignore the fact that she died, it didn’t happen. That’s not healthy. LEAH (still angry): She had breast cancer. She didn’t tell us so we could prepare. I’ll deal with it when I’m ready. JEN: Okay. I’ve been going to this grief counseling group to help me deal. JEN pulls a pamphlet out of her purse and slides it across the table to LEAH. JEN (cont’d, quietly): Just think about it. LEAH grabs the pamphlet and stands. She shoves some money on the table. LEAH (rushing): I have to get back. There are some things I need to do before the others get back.... JEN (pleading): Leah don’t.... LEAH (distractedly): I’ll see you later. LEAH rushes out of the cafe. JEN stares sadly after her. INT. 12TH FLOOR KANE ADVERTISING OFFICE BUILDING — EVENING Everyone is walking out the door to go home. BRET stands waiting for everyone to leave. LEAH is still seated looking at her laptop. LEAH (distractedly): Do you need something Bret? BRET (too calmly): Yeah, I do. LEAH looks up at BRET. LEAH (annoyed): What? BRET (glaring): What is your problem? LEAH: Excuse me? BRET (angry): You heard me. What is shoved so far up your ass that you feel the need to make everyone as miserable as you? LEAH stands up with a shocked look on her face. LEAH (infuriated): How dare you talk to me like that? There is nothing wrong with me, I just like to get my work done and make it the best it can be. BRET: That’s bull. I knew from co-workers that you were hardworking and pushed your team, but this—this is ridiculous. LEAH: Look, I know it may be hard for a slacker like you to understand.... BRET walks towards LEAH, standing inches from her, cutting her off. BRET (hollers): Slacker? I’m one of the best employees here. And, it’s not just me who thinks you’re making our lives dreadful. I’m just the only one with balls to stand up to you. LEAH (arrogantly): Then just transfer groups, if the work’s too hard for you. BRET (smiling cruelly): Oh, you’d like that, wouldn’t you? No. I’m going to stay here just to make your days as awful as you make mine. BRET grabs his suitcase and storms out of the office. LEAH sits down and puts her head in her hands. EXT. KANE ADVERTISING OFFICE BUILDING — EVENING BRET stops to answer his phone. BRET (calmly): Hello? PENNY O.S.: I’m done Bret. I have to move on. BRET (sadly): I think that’s best for you, Ma. PENNY O.S.: I think you need to, too. BRET: I’m trying. PENNY O.S.: I have the number for the grief counseling center I went to today. I think you should go. BRET (softly): Yeah, maybe. INT. ALLARD HOSPITAL GRIEF COUNSELING OFFICE — AFTERNOON BRET walks in, taking a paper from the COUNSELOR, and looks around the room. He sees three rows of chairs in front of a podium. COUNSELOR: Okay, everyone, please take a seat. Everyone in the room, including BRET sit down. COUNSELOR: Now everyone, we have a few new members. One has bravely decided to introduce herself first. The COUNSLEOR gestures to a woman in a sundress with brunette hair who stands. LEAH (nervously): Hi, I’m Leah. I just recently lost my mom to breast cancer. LEAH looks around the room and sees BRET. END SCENE. Comments are closed.
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