pink [rough]

A Screenplay by dono

andre, an anxiety ridden boy goes on a date with his then-dream girl nala.

pink

a screenplay

written by donovan banks

EXT. NEW CARROLTON METRO STATION " SUNSET

grey buses with blue, white and red decals file in and out of the drop off lane. departing from one of these buses is ANDRE, speeding off. he’s dressed in a plain ricotta-white, long-sleeved sweatshirt, slightly faded black levis jeans, draped from the pocket up by his black trench coat and stained, beige low-top vans. he dashes thru crowds of bewildered tourists and every-day commuters, who are equally as annoyed by the tourists as he is. he reaches the fare machine and puts $10 on his black silver-line smartrip, by way of scanner. he scans his smartrip and weaves thru other civilians to get to the top platform, in wait of the outgoing train.

[andre scraps his white iphone out of his pocket to play kilo kish’s K+ mixtape, as he does this he gets a text from TREY]

TREY

aye bruh

ANDRE

ay waddup

TREY

what u doin tonite son

ANDRE

out g-town w/ nala

TREY

N***A! when u gon stop takin’ these joints out

ANDRE

we just chillin, it’s not that big of deal frfr

TREY

yea yea. u say that til 2 months later when u playin’ 808s & heartbreak, cryin over her and s**t

ANDRE

yea ok man, peace

[he puts his phone away]

CUT TO:

INT. ORANGE LINE TRAIN

ANGLE ON- DOORS

[AUTOMATED DOOR CHIME]

CHIME

DOORS OPENING! STEP BACK, TO ALLOW CUSTOMERS TO EXIT, WHEN BOARDING, PLEASE MOVE TO THE CENTER OF THE CAR.

(double rings) STEP BACK, DOORS CLOSING!

this is basically a chorus, repeated every stop.

ANGLE ON " CENTERED VIEW OF CAR

andre sits on the train idly while waiting for the transfer at L’ENFANT PLAZA to the green line. he sits Indian style, dabbing methodically between his twitter/tumblr/instagram feeds. out of all of the available apps that allowed him to waste time or take himself out of awkward situations, he liked instagram the best. twitter while helpful for news, is too annoying. there’s always some braggadocios n***a, flexing with his clothes, or weed, or some materialistic bullshit, or another dude making misogynistic jokes for retweets and LOLs from other guys on his timeline. most of the time, twitter was just some redundant s**t that nobody will care about in the next 2 days, it never really matters but it kills time. tumblr is an enticing option, but it requires too much attention than applicable on the move. instagram allowed him to be in multiple places at once, seeing the world thru someone else’s perspective allowed him to transcend subjectivity in a weird way. whenever he’s waiting for something to happen he could go on there and see it happening for others. this didn’t make him feel envious, but instead he found solace in knowing that there was a happening, there was something else there outside of himself and his surroundings.

[TRAIN INTERCOM]

“next stop, l’enfant plaza”

CUT TO:

INT. TOP PLATFORM L’ENFANT PLAZA

andre gets off the train, and moves towards the elevator geared towards to the top platform of l’enfant. the station is about as crowded as u would expect it to be on a saturday night. it’s not even 8pm, the night is still young, and there aren’t any drunk white college kids stumbling around yet. there is still an significant amount of people, and a mix of nationalities. gentrification has swept thru dc, as it has most previously historically black cities, but there is still an prominent amount of minorities. every now and then, a white lady (about late 30’s) would evade him or clutch their purse as they came in close contact. this used to bother him, but not as much anymore. he couldn’t understand how someone as seemingly harmless and feminine as he was could intimidate anyone, but then again he is black, and this is america. this wasn’t that sad for him, he understood it, as did everyone else. subconsciously, this gradually influenced him to become more cautious of his actions.

as he’s ready to switch to the opposite platform adjacent to dual train tracks, he get’s a text from NALA, he pulls out his phone.

ANGLE ON " IPHONE SCREEN

NALA

hey!

ANDRE

hey wassup

NALA

i’m still gettin dressed so i’ll meet u @ the u street station @ 7:40, ok?

ANDRE

so… u don’t want me to meet u @ silver spring?

NALA

i mean u don’t HAVE to, i just don’t want u 2 go thru 2 much trouble L

ANDRE

ok i won’t, see u later

NALA

wow, ur an a*****e [side eye emoji]

ANDRE

but….. nvm i’ll see u later

NALA

uh huh [side eye emoji]

he scatters and stumble upon a thread with a text from about 2 hours ago from ALEXIS

ALEXIS

wanna come over? J

displaying an anxious but concentrated expression, he tries to think up a lie to blow her off but he eventually loses interest.

he puts his phone away and heads towards to opposite platform.

CUT TO:

INT. STARBUCKS (GALLERY) " NIGHT (6:40pm)

andre waits for the barista to make his espresso while listening to “how’s it wrong” by toro y moi on his phone. next to him is a couple, a hispanic girl with curly dark brown hair with blonde highlights in a brown duffle coat, and a black guy who looks sorta looks like a cross between michael jackson circa 1984 and maxwell on the cover of now, they’re no older than 20. he can’t really make out their names or what they’re saying but their conversation seems substantial by the looks of it. they hold hands, she lays her head on his shoulder, it looks like love. nobody knows for sure what random couples on the street are really like behind closed doors but it’s like an advertisement, it looks nice, and u can’t judge until u experience the actual product urself. it’s not that he wasn’t okay with being alone, he’s spent most of his high school years learning to like himself. he was never an complete outsider but he enjoyed to isolate himself, this put him in a space where he had to deal with himself and who he truly was. all throughout that time he’s longed not for someone to make him feel as if he was worthy of adoration, but for someone to grow with. a partner to be their every step of the way to help smooth out the rough patches that we all experience in life, to experience love again. this love wasn’t movie love, it wasn’t done up with makeup and a pyrotechnic filled happily ever after, he knows love doesn’t last forever. love isn’t about ownership for him, it isn’t about being able to claim someone as HIS, it was about the comfort of a confidant. the ability to be able to have a question and to know exactly who to go for an answer to. the ability to have someone to discuss dreams with and social issues with and to be unapologetically himself around. this is what love was for him, a confidant, not-

ANGLE ON " BARISTA

BARISTA

GRANDE CARAMEL MACHIATTO WITH SOY!

ANGLE ON " CENTERED VIEW OF COUNTER

ANDRE

that’s me, thanks dude

andre reaches out and grabs his expression then walks out of the café.

CUT TO:

EXT. GALLERY PLACE STREETS " NIGHT (7pm)

copious amounts of lights emerge from 5 story shops and cars (mostly taxis) which smother the streets, not extremely, but indefinitely. andre walks aimlessly on the sidewalk. many people walk the street, most are white, adult tourists. there’s a group of people on the corner shouting at an extremist group which is trying to discourage people from abortions using bible scriptures, nothing really out of the normal. it’s not that cold, its around 35 degrees, but his espresso is still releasing steam.

he pulls out a pack of marlboro red 100 cigarettes out of his pocket. there are about 15 left in the box, he removes one and puts it in his left hand between his middle and index fingers. he doesn’t smoke cigarettes heavily, about 1-2 a day on weekdays and around 3 on weekends. cigarettes aren’t really an addiction for him either, he’s been weeks without them with no present urges before. however, he indulges in them to relieve anxiety. he pulls out a box of matches in his pocket, strikes one, and lights the cigarette.

ANDRE

(takes 2 hits)

s**t

the first couple of hits always chokes him a little.

while he is methodically exchanging sips of his espresso with cigarette pulls, a white guy about age 23 with a orange knitted beanie walks up to him.

GUY

hey man, do you have another cig?

ANDRE

(widens eyes)

um-yea man, here ya go

he passes a cigarette to GUY

GUY

Thanks man!

GUY lights up

GUY stands adjacent to andre, he kind of wishes that GUY would go away so he could enjoy himself but he was never an assertive person, he lets him stay.

GUY

So what are you doing tonight man?

ANDRE

(takes a drag)

going out with some friends

GUY

Oh ok man that’s cool! I’m out with my friends, a night away from the family

andre thinks for a second, it’s no way this guy should be this young with a family.

ANDRE

wait, u have a family?

GUY

Yeah! A wife and a 3 year old son

ANDRE

how old are u?

GUY

25, I’m 25 years old man. It’s crazy but I actually like it, knowing that I have someone to live for makes me feel all fuzzy inside, you know? You just can’t explain it.

he couldn’t believe that someone was this young so committed to something. he’s never had plans to get married or to have children, it was always a frightening thought to bring another being into this world, especially at a young age. he thought of it to be selfish. to bring a brown boy or girl into a world such as this, a world where their imagination would be compressed into a one-tracked spectrum of “reality”, as all adults lives have been. the idea of one day having to come home to his little girl crying because some boys were making fun of her hair. the idea of one day having to come home to his son being called white for writing poems instead of throwing footballs. this terrified him, to the point where he scraped the idea of children all together. while these thoughts are occurring in his head he completely disregards what GUY is saying, he slowly but surely makes his way out of this

situation.

ANDRE

ok man i gotta go, have a nice night

GUY

ok bye man!

andre walks towards the station, still dragging his cigarette.

CUT TO:

INT. U STREET METRO STATION (7:50pm)

andre is on his phone waiting for NALA. he doesn’t bother texting her, questioning where she is. he doesn’t want to seem too anxious, after all it’s only been 10 minutes.

(iphone reads

NALA 1 minute

iMessage)

he slides open the iMessage

NALA

hey, i’m off the train, where r u?

he looks around and eventually spots her from a distance, he doesn’t respond to the text, instead he runs up and taps her on the left shoulder from behind and walks to her right. she looks over her left shoulder and sees no one, then turns around and see’s him, she laughs and jokingly hits his shoulder.

NALA

don’t be runnin up on me like that!

ANDRE

(smirks)

(mockingly) don’t run up on me like that!

they walk towards the train.

CUT TO:

INT. BLUE LINE TRAIN

they sit next to each other lounged on orange seats. NALA talks about her trip from silver spring to the station and leaves out no details. andre is listening but this whole time he can’t really pay that much attention.

NALA distracts him, not by her words, but by her presence, her essence. she’s soft spoken but outspoken, she has a lot to say, about everything. he values her thoughts more than his own because being a woman of color, she has a drastically different perspective of life than he does, she just knows what’s really up. women have to be aware of not only how they present themselves but how others interpret them, NALA knows how to present herself without compromising herself, she is NALA all the way. she’s average height with dark brown curls that spawn upwards and descend towards their ends which meet about an inch past her shoulder. her eyes are a rich brown, not dull, u can see there is something more to them than just a color. tonight’s she’s wearing black high-waisted pants, a fitted black crop top, high-top nubuck black timberlands and a oversized black windbreaker. “prototype” from the love below rings in his head as she goes on and on spewing tangents of the whatever comes to mind. she’s put together, she knows what she wants to say and she articulates it well. anxiety begins to kick in and he tries not to let it show. his mind becomes cluttered with thoughts of what he could say or do to spoil any positive sentiments she carries of him. reality and anecdotal precognition play a role in this disorganization. it’s almost schizophrenic, u can’t really be sure if it’s all in ur head or if ur actually making a fool of urself by slurring ur words or drifting off into a introspective flashes of self consciousness in which u analyze how u may be presenting urself. this removes him from the situation at hand, often. in defense, he swiftly grasps his sleeve in between his thumb and index finger, this gives him a feeling of shelter, almost like a hermit, or a recluse. this act doesn’t defend him from any possible blows to his self-esteem but this has become second nature, it happens so often it doesn’t even come to him until-

NALA
why do u keep doing that?

ANDRE
doing wha?

NALA

that s**t with ur wrist, like ur tryna cook or something

ANDRE
oh s**t, i just do that sometimes, i don’t know why, it’s comfortable

NALA
[LOL’s]
ur awkward, not in a bad way, in a different way, it’s cute tho

ANDRE

awkward how?

NALA

like michael cera, nick & norah’s playlist type, ya know?

ANDRE

so the type of michael cera that makes playlist’s for his ex all day? and end’s up f****n some random girl while lookin for a death grips-esque band? sounds about right, but i’d rather be scott pilgrim, michael cera

NALA

that michael cera had faith in himself, sooooooooo maybe not yet (giggles)

SIDE NOTE: this wasn’t her way of dissing him, it was more of challenge for him to grow. NALA has a way with reading people, this allowed her to distance herself from most problematic situations that arise throughout her life or in contrast gravitate towards people who could use her assistance, she was almost mystical in this sense.

ANDRE

so tell me, the all-knowing one that is nala, how do i reach this stage of scott pilgrim?

NALA

wellllll………. (she flips her hair over her shoulders) u get like me basically! don’t ever rely on anyone to love u for u. u gotta wake up and tell urself, whatever happens today happens, but all u can do thru it all is be true to urself and honest with urself. life’s not forever, it’s no time to be feelin’ sorry for urself

CUT TO:

EXT. GEORGETOWN STREETS " NIGHT

ANGLE ON- ANDRE AND NALA

andre and nala walk, side by side (not touching), with no clear destination yet. the streets are somewhat populated by not too much, just quiet enough to make u feel comfortable with being out with a partner. a majority of the people who aren’t andre and nala are in their mid 20’s, getting drunk at one of the bars.

andre pulls out his cigarettes, strikes a match, and lights one.

NALA

that’s a bad habit

ANDRE

what is?

NALA

smoking cigarettes, i mean, i smoke them sometimes but to always keep a pack as u do is a habit.

andre takes a long, exaggerated drag of the cigarette and french inhales the smoke for emphasis.

ANDRE

it doesn’t really matter, we’re all gonna die anyways

NALA

whoa, ur depressing

ANDRE

the truth is depressing most of the time.

nala looks up at the sky, it’s night time and it’s really pretty out. it’s the beginning of the month so there’s a full moon out accompanied by the scattered white glow of stars.

ANGLE ON " NALA

NALA

do u ever think about if there’s something else out there? besides us, ya know? like more to this. i’d love to go to mars.

ANGLE ON " ANDRE AND NALA

ANDRE

we’re only one galaxy. there’s another 10,000 that we can see and there’s estimated to be over hundreds of billions out there in the cosmos. we’ll probably never see intelligent life in our existence tho.

we’ll be dead by 2200

NALA

that’s probably true, depressing, but real

she takes the cigarette out of his hand and takes a hit.

ANDRE

i thought it was a bad habit?

NALA

(blowing smoke into ANDRE’s face)

we’re all gonna die someday right?

CUT TO:

EXT. UNDERNEATH KEY BRIDGE " NIGHT

NALA and ANDRE walk on the left side of a stoned sidewalk, ridden with rocks, adjacent to a stream of water that runs along the pathway.

NALA

(shivering)

it’s f*****g cold

NALA pulls out a backwood with about a gram stuffed in it. andre pulls out a joint rolled with a RAWS paper. he pulls a blue BIC lighter out of his pocket and lights the joint while it’s in his mouth. during the verbal exchange they take turns dragging and passing the joint.

NALA

we need some music, u wanna play a song or should i?

ANDRE

(coughing)

u go first then i’ll go

NALA pulls out her black iPhone 5S and plays “so high” by doja cat on high volume.

ANDRE

that’s a cliché but wise choice on ur part.

NALA

its corny but its okay to be corny, u know like… i like… f**k i forgot what I was gonna say

ANDRE

(mockingly)

don’t do drugs kids

NALA

why do u smoke?

ANDRE

why do YOU smoke?

NALA

it’s something to do, ya know? and it’s good for social settings, it helps me get into the creative mode with my paintings and all that s**t. plus s**t gets overwhelming, like trying to find the balance between realism and optimism, ya know? like trying to let ur mind run free and get back to that childlike state of happiness and infinite imagination, trying to make urself believe that anything is possible when u know it’s not. we’re all kinda poisioned, ya know? like along the way that imagination and happiness is stripped from us by garnering more knowledge and understanding that s**t isn’t real all peaches and rainbows… but oh yea! back to weed, it’s just no down side to it forreal, nobodies ever given me a reason to stop…. oh s**t! and plus like i’ve been reading these studies from huffpost lately and s**t, and like… all the stigmas are getting debunked and s**t like its really cool to see the truth for once.

a 10 second silence ensues, not just because they’re both high at this point, instead it’s a mutual feeling of understanding arising that isn’t tangible.

ANDRE

uhhh…. I think this one is done

NALA lights up the backwood.

ANDRE pulls out his phone and plays “lost in the world” by kanye west.

NALA

u remember when u said “we’re all gonna die anyways”? …. i was wondering… what makes u look at life that way?

ANDRE

it’s not really looking at it, it’s just being real. i don’t see the point in pretending with this s**t ya know? i know my time here is limited. in juxtaposition to the timeline of the existence of the universe, we’re not even 1%. i’m one of 7 trillion people on this earth, we all are different and live different lives, everyone is special, and that’s cool, but in the end we’re all equal in death.

NALA

so do u think life is meaningless? like there’s no reason for us to be here?

ANDRE

objectively speaking, yea like, there’s no reason to this s**t, but we’re human and we are conscious of our existence, thus creating perspective. this life s**t is all perspective. i’m human, i have this perspective so therefore subjectively, life has whatever meaning i choose to give it. it’s kind of a paradox, i don’t know where I’m going with this anymore.

NALA

i just go with the flow man, like whatever happens, happens. u can’t really stop s**t, so why trip over it?

ANDRE

i’m not trippin’, it’s just like whatever to me now.

NALA

what’s whatever?

ANDRE

death

NALA

that’s like the scariest thing, but it also seems so peaceful. just silencing all the noise, ya know? i used to wish on it, like years back, but the scariest part of it all is being alone in the end.

ANDRE

we’re alone in the beginning, so it’s only right to be alone in the end.

NALA

i don’t want to be alone

CUT TO:

INT. GOOD STUFF EATERY (RESTARUANT) " NIGHT

ANDRE and NALA are on the second floor of the restaurant, this is the dining floor. a singular line of booth-like chairs accompanied by table sets are to the left of the staircase which leads to the second floor. there is also an additional 4 table sets by the windows, which are to the front of the building. there are 2 HD TV’s on the wall’s above the booths, which are separated respectively by two large rectangular mirrors. the space is relatively quiet and tranquil, there’s about 3 other couples other than ANDRE and NALA. they dine at the tables nearest to the windows, across from one another sitting face to face. ANDRE is eating a veggie burger, fries and drinking from a 1 Liter bottle of smartwater. NALA has ordered a bacon burger, fries and a vanilla milkshake.

NALA

THIS IS LIKE SO F*****G GOOD, OH MY GOD!

she takes huge bites of the burger, not monstrously atrocious bites, but u can tell that she is enjoying it. she continues to mutter words off as she eats, describing how tasty her meal is but ANDRE isn’t paying that much attention. ANDRE pulls his iPhone out of his pocket and unlocks it to read a text message.

ALEXIS

youre a f*****g a*****e!

he lets out an annoyed sigh and puts his phone back in his coat pocket.

NALA waves her hand over his eyes to refocus his attention on her.

NALA

UMM HELLO? DO U HEAR ME TALKING TO U OR NAH?

ANDRE sort of jumps up and retracts to focusing on NALA.

ANDRE

oh s**t, im sorry i was looking at something.

NALA

thats just like a leo

ANDRE

like a what?

NALA

a LEO! ur all withdrawn and introspective, because ur a leo.

ANDRE

(defensively)

yo… shut up

NALA

excuse me?

ANDRE

u don’t know me like that. u can’t tell me who i am based off the position of the sun and the moon on my birth month. that’s f****n stupid.

NALA

YOU’RE F****N STUPID! u don’t know everything n***a!

a profuse pause ensues amongst the two of them, engendering cringe worthy awkwardness. andre spends the next minute or so, which seems like an hour, picking at the food on his plate in an idle position of discomfort. within this timeframe, nala’s phone rings and she leaves the table. andre wonders about who she could possibly speaking to at this time of night momentarily, but denounces this as futile and continues picking at his half-eaten fries.

time goes by…

minutes turn to what seems like hours, th-

NALA

[returning to the table]

hey..

ANDRE

yo, im sorry for-

NALA

[interrupting]

don’t say “sorry”. “sorry” is for people who mean what they say or do, but aren’t honest enough to take responsibility.

ANDRE

but i am sorry, i didn’t want to be disrespectful.