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ambitionsource · 3 months

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AMBITION “Coup De Foudre” [ 4.13 ]♮Part 2

INT. BLUE’S APARTMENT - DAY

Taking their own lore tour, Isa and the MacNamaras make their next stop on the Isa Essentials expedition. They drop by BLUE NGUYEN’s for a late lunch. They look just as trendy and laid back as the last time we saw them, and only slightly frazzled by the prospect of hosting one of the world’s biggest film stars for an afternoon tea.

BEATRIX TORRES and JERICHO TORRES are also in attendance, a fair representation of the company Isa has kept since they finally left the foster system. Ruby jumps right into socializing and goes to introduce herself, while Isa and Zachary hang back a moment in the entryway to take it all in.

Isa: Family reunion, part 3?

Whatever they want to share of their world, Zachary will take it. He gives them a gentle smile.

INT. CHARLIE’S APARTMENT - DAY

Charlie and Zay are back at the former’s apartment, crashed on the couch together. Even though Zay has only actually been there a few times, he seems to be quickly making himself at home, not at all out of place in the space.

And even though they’re being somewhat vague about their relationship status to everyone else at the moment, they once again are having no issue presenting like they’re reattached at the hip. Relative to the past, they’re quite cozy together on the couch, sitting far closer than they need to be given they have the whole thing to themselves. They could easily spread out with room to spare, but instead they’re both scrunched over on one side, shoulders and elbows and knees touching as if it’s so casual.

Right now, they’re flipping through brochures, looking at the courses the college Charlie has chosen -- but not yet revealed to the rest of us -- are offering. Classically, Zay seems unimpressed.

Charlie: Come on. “Marriage and Morals Among the Victorians?” ��The Art of the Diary?” [ humming excitedly ] “The Philosophical Life?” You can’t tell me those don’t sound interesting. Zay: Charlie. Charlie. Look at me. Look deep into my eyes. [ taking his face ] It does not sound interesting.

Oh, wah wah. Zay is just anti-academia. Charlie shrugs him off, making a face, but he knows he’s only teasing him. Honestly, it’s cute to see him so enthused about it, to get to watch him nerd out unapologetically again. It’s a far cry from how he seemed about Yale.

Zay raises his eyebrows when Charlie flips the page in the brochure, displaying the list of language courses. He points out Charlie could probably test out of that requirement given his French experience now -- unless he’s determined to take twenty credits a semester or whatever. Then he points towards another one beneath it on the list.

Zay: Though I suppose it might be wiser to brush up on your Italian. You know, in case they determine you guilty of gay crimes against humanity and ship you back to serve your sentence. Charlie: Whatever I was doing over there, I promise you, it wouldn’t be considered criminal. [ off his slightly jealous expression, with a grin ] Besides, I’ll have you know my Italian is decent. Zay: Oh, yeah? Prove it. Say something right now. Charlie: [ with a scoff ] I don’t have to prove it… Zay: Mm… that kind of just sounds like you don’t want to prove otherwise. And that I’m right.

God, he really is so cheeky… and a bit transparent. As if he just doesn’t want to hear him speak a foreign language again… so Charlie obliges, rolling his eyes just for the impression that he’s inconveniencing him.

Charlie: [ in Italian ] Isaiah, you are very stubborn… and quite wondrous. Zay: Okay… okay… you’re insulting me, aren’t you?

Maaaybe… just a little of everything. Charlie shrugs coyly, earning a nudge from Zay, who isn’t satisfied. That was just one sentence! Anyone can learn one sentence. Say something else.

Charlie: You are so demanding. What am I to you, Duolingo? Zay: No way -- that owl has way more rizz than you.

Um, hello?! Charlie scoffs out a laugh, lightly shoving him back. They fall into a playful brief back-and-forth, naturally ending up pressed closer together in the process, until Charlie finally relents and offers him one more treat through the chuckles.

Charlie: Ti amo! Ti amo molto, Zay, capisce?

Yes, Zay can translate that even with his limited knowledge of the language. And it hits exactly as intended, still knocking the wind out of him. That comment about his rizz was far too premature.

But Charlie did meet his request, so all right, he’ll reward him. He closes the small gap between them and gives him a kiss. It lingers, their lips brushing again as soon as they pull apart.

Zay: I mean, you could’ve just Googled that, but…

This guy. Honestly. Charlie shakes his head, endeared grin unstoppable, before stealing another kiss.

Zay: Let’s hear it again though. Just for thoroughness.

So transparent… but Charlie is happy to deliver. He’s got a lot of time to make up for.

Charlie: Ti amo, Zay. Zay: Yeah? Charlie: Mhm… [ another soft kiss ] Ti penso ogni giorno. Sempre. Amore mio. [ and another ] Ti amerò sempre.

Okay, Zay definitely can’t translate all of that, but he doesn’t need to. Charlie’s delivery gets the message across regardless, gentle and tender and just barely above a whisper. Palpable in its soft sincerity.

I think of you every day. All the time. My love. I will always love you.

If Zay didn’t want to get got, stumbling into another unbeatable, inescapable moment with Charlie Gardner, then he shouldn’t have fucked around. Now he’s found out… and, truth be told, he isn’t mad about it.

Zay: Okay, fuck me, then.

Charlie breaks into another laugh, then gladly accepts another kiss. They let this one linger too, blending naturally and effortlessly into another one… then another, just a tad more carried away…

Until they’re interrupted, keys jingling briefly in the lock before the apartment door swings open. They jump as Riley steps into the room, the three of them staring at each other with wide eyes for the briefest of moments before Riley immediately swoops into apologies.

Riley: OMG. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I’m interrupting, aren’t I? Sorry, sorry --

Based on the look on Zay’s face, yes, she is definitely interrupting -- but he can’t stay mad at Riley. He joins Charlie in assuring her that the intrusion is fine. She assures them in return that she won’t be long (so they can get back to whatever they were, um, doing… ha ha), she just wanted to stop by and pick some things up for Lucas.

Riley: We’re trying to consolidate all his things in one place before the big move -- I know there’s still a ton of time, but it’s a slow process. He keeps forgetting about this stuff that Grace is asking about, so I told him I’d stop by after class to grab it.

A lot on his mind making him distracted. This conversation rings a bell for Charlie, who recalls Lucas mentioning something similar. He climbs to his feet and claims he’ll go grab the box for her, disappearing back into Lucas’s room.

While they’re briefly alone, Riley settles onto the opposite end of the couch and turns her curious eyes on Zay. She glances over her shoulder to confirm Charlie is still searching, then drops her voice to a conspiratorial murmur.

Riley: Based on whatever I just walked in on, things seem pretty good between you two. Zay: Yeah. Thanks for that, by the way. Riley: So does that mean -- I mean, are you two…?

It almost feels dangerous to verbalize it, like it might shatter if they do. Are they actually, finally, back together? Could we get some official confirmation here? She can’t help it -- she’s nosy.

Much like before, despite Riley’s undeniable charm, Zay holds his ground. He gives her the same story he gave Maya, that they’re not confirming anything until they’ve wrapped up the loose ends in their current plans and made certain their choices will work out how they want. So for now, no additional clarity, but rest assured…

Zay: You’re right, things are good. [ glancing in the direction he left ] We’re working it out.

Together, this time. With communication, clarity, and no room for confusion. That makes all the difference.

Riley is clearly dying to know all the details, but she doesn’t push. She can respect their desire for privacy, and mostly, she just seems relieved they’re in a good place. It’s been a long, long three years of being in the middle of their tragedy, watching it all unfold and helpless to do anything about it.

Thankfully, her fix-it instincts are no longer needed here -- doubly good, considering she may not be here much longer. She jumps to her feet again when Charlie reemerges with the shoebox from Lucas’s room, handing it off to her with a smile. She thanks him, slipping her bag off her shoulder to tuck it safely away.

While she has both of them, she asks if they’re free over the next couple of days. She wants to go shopping for a few things before the potential major changes this summer, and she thought it would be a fun way for them to spend some quality time as a trio. Since they’ve basically never gotten to do that before, given past circumstances, and because she may not have many opportunities to do so soon if all goes to plan.

Yeah, her big plans… it’s clear based on how she speaks about it around them that she’s brought Charlie up to speed, too, so they’re in the loop. Zay still looks hesitant about the whole thing, but wisely chooses not to comment; Charlie seems less concerned, happily agreeing for both of them that they should be free.

Before Riley goes, she takes a second to check in with Charlie too, softening her voice as she broaches the topic. Not wanting to intrude any further, but they haven’t gotten much of a chance to talk…

Riley: Are you doing okay? You know, with the… with your family?

Charlie seems surprised she’s asking. He offers an unbothered smile, shrugging.

Charlie: Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine. Riley: Are you sure? I know this has to be hard, so -- Charlie: No, for sure, but I’m all good. Got other stuff to be focused on right now, anyway. So.

He brightens his smile, convincing as ever. Riley can only take him at his word -- she doesn’t exactly have time to wear him down otherwise.

So she says goodbye for now, giving him a quick hug and blowing Zay a kiss as she promises she’ll see them later this week. Charlie follows her to the door, seeing her out, before flopping back down to rejoin Zay on the couch. He brings an arm up to drape behind Zay on the couch, a detail Zay notices and is not at all opposed to. Kind of boyfriend behavior…

But his mind is caught on moments earlier. Riley brought it up so he didn’t have to, but admittedly, he’d been waiting for the right time to ask.

Zay: Did you mean what you said? Charlie: Hm? Zay: When Riley asked about your fam. Specifically, Helleanor. Charlie: Oh. Well, yeah. Zay, skeptical: Really? [ a beat ] I’m not trying to be pushy. I just know how… if you want to talk about it, then you know you can always --

In short, he thinks his unbothered, chill persona might be bullshit. Given all the history and context, he has very good reason to think so. But Charlie is apparently committed to it, truth or not, because he gives Zay the same shrug and manages a smile.

Charlie: No, yeah, I meant it. I’m good. Zay: … really. Charlie: I mean, is it how I wanted things to go? No. But I can’t change it. That’s not something I can control. No sense being inconsolable about it.

That’s mature, and neat, and everything… but it still doesn’t sound quite right. It kind of feels like they’re sixteen again, and Charlie is doing that thing where he’s so totally okay with everything it almost doesn’t feel human.

And just like then, Zay sees right through it. He can sense the plastic covering Charlie has plastered over this vulnerability, pretending it’s all fine, but he isn’t sure how to puncture it without making a big mess. One he doesn’t want to make, given how they’re finally in that place where things are pretty good.

Charlie basically echoes as much, giving him a smile that feels markedly more genuine.

Charlie: Besides, like I said, I have a lot of other stuff to be focusing on. [ gazing at him ] There’s a lot of good in my life right now.

That, at least, is true enough. Zay returns the smile, letting Charlie lean close and pull him into another kiss… though that uncertainty is still itching at the back of his mind.

INT. AAA - ATRIUM - DAY

To wrap up the afternoon, Isa takes Zachary and Ruby to Adams. It feels a bit surreal to walk through the doors again, to take in the vast, empty entryway that’s quiet save for JANITOR HARLEY KEINER allowing them inside.

Zachary: It’s nice of you to let us stop by. Harley: Through express permission of the principal himself only. It pays to be well-connected. Isa: I’m well aware, though not by choice. Harley: But you’re right. It’s not as though Isa would’ve finagled their way in here regardless of whether I said yes, likely with help from one of their many former classmates. These kids never do dastardly things like that. [ clasping his hands together ] Ain’t that right, De La Cruz? Isa: Completely. One-hundred percent. No one gets into this school that isn’t supposed to.

Uh-huh. Harley narrows his eyes slightly, then backs off, stating it was a pleasure to meet them all. Especially Zachary -- he’s a big fan.

Zachary: Oh, well. Thank you. Ruby: Most everybody is. You love the Hastings films, I’m guessing? Harley: Oh, no. I mean, don’t get me wrong, they’re good fun. But I’m all about the deep cuts. Like Hard Knock Flight, when you played that down-on-his-luck janitor who had to thwart the assassins? [ touching his chest ] I deeply felt that one. Thank you for your work.

Right… well, if that’s all, Harley will leave them to it. As he does, Isa gets sucked back into looking around the atrium. It’s not like it’s been ages since they’ve been here, with Eric as principal, but the scary part is how every time, it starts to feel further away. This reminder of how even as it remains unchanged, the clock is ticking, moving them further and further apart from this time and this place.

To Ruby and Zachary, though, it’s all brand new, and that eases the homesickness somewhat. Ruby is more than excited as she takes it all in, pointing out details Isa has mentioned like the staircase and the tall ceilings. She grows even more keen when she sees the display with all the photographs from past years and shows, a few from Beauty & The Beast still managing to hold their place.

Ruby: Look at your friends… oh, this is lovely. They all look so great. Zachary: You weren’t in this one? Isa: Nah. I decided to go back to my techie roots this time around. And it was better that way -- all my friends got to do their thing, get their starring moment, and I got to build a death contraption with my best friend. Kind of memories you just can’t substitute.

Zachary raises his eyebrows at “death trap,” but doesn’t get the chance to ask. Ruby finds the photograph of the entire cast and crew up by the top left -- which includes the techies -- and points it out.

Ruby: I’m sorry, but this is just too lovely. Look at you all! You’re going to have to show me all your pictures next time you’re out to visit and tell me all the stories.

Honestly, that sounds nice. Isa smiles.

Isa: I’ll put out a call to get an accurate roll of photos, sure. Zachary: That’ll be neat. I bet the boys will like it too. Ruby: Oh, and we should certainly invite Farkle over too. You’re both such good storytellers, and I’m sure his performer perspective would be a good counterbalance to whatever perspective you give us. Balance the biases, I think.

It’s a cute idea… but it just unwittingly tears open that cut in Isa’s chest again. They manage not to show it, keeping their smile intact, but it falters just enough to signal that the reminder digs deep.

And who knows how much longer they might have to even remotely try to fix it…

INT. MINKUS HOME - DAY

The next day, the door to the Minkus penthouse opens, Zay standing on the other side. He’s holding a shopping bag, and based on Farkle’s expression, he wasn’t expecting to see him.

Farkle: Hey? Zay: Hey. You gonna invite me in, or? Farkle: Oh, yeah. Sure.

He steps back, allowing him to step inside. Definitely not opposed to the surprise pop-in, but not at all prepared for it. His mind is on keeping his emotions in check, and getting ready for LA, and nowhere near base levels of cool to hang out with Zay -- if he had any at all to begin with.

Farkle: Uh, what are you doing here? Zay: Do you not read your texts? I mentioned I was gonna stop by while I was in the neighborhood. Jada’s only a couple stations away, so -- Farkle: Oh, uh, no. I didn’t see that. I haven’t been looking at my phone much lately.

Try at all. He’s basically actively avoiding it. Unhelpful, clearly, as Zay rolls his eyes.

Zay: Richest bitch in Manhattan, and you don’t even look at your brand new iPhone. Farkle: Actually, I have an Android. Zay: Even worse. Farkle: That’s not -- anyway. [ eyeing the bag ] Did you go shopping, or? Zay: No. This is why I’m here. Maya said you left these in your frantic dipping from France, and for some ungodly reason, she couldn’t just give them to you herself. Something about “I have career matters to attend to, Zayby,” something something blah blah blah.

So here they are. Zay hands over the bag, making it crystal clear neither of them should get used to him playing errand boy. Farkle thanks him, peeking into the bag to look at the contents and confirming they’re as Maya described.

Once that’s out of the way, it’s back to just the two of them standing around not sure what to say. Because every conversation they’ve had lately has been heated, or heavy, or grappling with these larger, grander young adult emotions that they aren’t sure how to handle just yet. That they aren’t sure how they keep having to handle together, why they seem drawn to one another’s melodrama like magnets.

Yet, again, here they are. Zay clears his throat.

Zay: So, you going back to LA? Farkle: Uh, yeah. I’m leaving tomorrow. Zay: Right. Well, good luck with all that. Farkle: Thanks. And you? Did you decide about Turner, or the tour? Zay: I did. Farkle: … and do I get to know what that is? Zay: Once the relevant parties know, then everyone else will get to know. That’s the way I’m playing it. Sorry. No advanced previews for the people. Farkle: Boy, you love the drama of suspense. [ off his pithy shrug ] I’m assuming Charlie got to know, though. Zay: He ain’t people.

Fair enough. Farkle doesn’t even bother to question it -- he knows the history, way more than Zay thinks he does, and even if he didn’t, it wouldn’t seem confusing to him. Charlie’s got that way about him, for one, but also it’s always been clear the two of them have something special. Friendship or more. There’s just something different about them.

That’s what Farkle thinks he wants -- what he’s been searching for this whole time. He wants that sort of feeling where it goes without saying that you’ll share everything; that you’re inherently, automatically set apart from the rest.

Clearly, that’s not in his cards. So he swallows his jealousy and moves on.

Anyway, Zay commends Farkle for heading back to LA. Given all the history there now, he can imagine it feels like a mixed bag. Farkle nods, compelled to make a confession.

Farkle: I thought about moving back here, actually. Zay: Oh. Wow. [ a beat ] Why? Farkle: That chilling a possibility? Zay: No. It just -- you know, shitty ex aside, it seems like you’ve got good things going out there. I suppose you’ll hear from that agent soon, and you already made a splash in the theater scene at USC in your freshman year. That’s not something to spit on. Farkle: Yeah… yeah, that’s true. Zay: So it’s not like I don’t think you could do the same here, eventually, but when the dominos seem to have aligned so well out there… Farkle: That’s true. You’re right. I’m not saying you aren’t. I guess… just, with the other stuff…

The Jordan of it all, and the bits Zay doesn’t know. The potential of Isa; the warm familiarity of this town and its colorful cast of characters.

Farkle: Lame, maybe, but I kind of thought being back here with the cohort would be the same as before. More… stable. I don’t know.

Zay gets it. Honestly, he does. Not just because he’s human, and the allure of going back to what you know is one of the oldest, most base desires in the book, but because he knows the impact a toxic relationship can have. How it leaves you hollow, sends you searching for ways to bring back that feeling of purpose and joy again. He may not have all the context to Farkle’s current headspace, but he has that much.

Zay: Hey, I mean, I don’t think you’re making the wrong decision. Going back. Farkle: No? Zay: Nah. For one, yeah, the idea of getting to spiritually go back to Adams is nice, but it’s not that simple. I don’t know who you’re counting in your “cohort,” but most of us aren’t even going to be here in the coming weeks, months, etc. Lucas is dipping -- and Riley is going with him, apparently. Farkle: Right… Zay: Nigel might be jumping across the pond if he can hack it. Yindra and Jade and Maya -- I assume -- are going back to the west coast. Farke: And you’ll be…? Zay: Nice try. My point is, I get where you’re coming from. Really, I do. But it’s never gonna be that again. Triple A… it was good, when we had it. I wouldn’t trade it for anything. But it’s done now. We’ve gotta get used to working with… whatever version of our cohort we’ve got now. It wouldn’t be as easy as just hopping a flight back home.

That’s the trick about homesickness. Usually, it’s nostalgia in disguise, and unlike a house, you can’t walk back through the doors of the past. You can hold onto it, cherish the memories, try to nurture what you took with you into the present, but that’s all you can do. You can’t go back, whether you want to or not.

And that feels even more potent when you’re healing from something like Jordan. Zay understands that -- he understands better than Farkle can probably imagine.

Zay: I know how shitty it feels to have the sense that you wasted an entire year of your life. That you lost that time to someone who didn’t deserve it. It sucks. But you didn’t waste that time. And even if you did, so what? You’ve got so much more time ahead to make up for it. Dude, we’re literally at the start of everything. Just because you flubbed your first steps doesn’t mean you’re down for good.

He’s a prime example. He fucked up his start at Adams, and he turned out okay. He has amazing friends. They ended up with Riley. He had the chance to meet the love of his life, and then had the chance to find him again when things fell apart the first time. Life is just a series of starts, over and over again, and the only thing that changes that reality is when you choose not to get back up.

Zay: In short, saccharine aside, you’ll be fine, man. I believe in you.

Somehow, that means everything. It wasn’t easy to earn Zay’s friendship -- and boy, did Farkle flub it too many times to count -- but they’re here now. Somehow stuck together, melodramatic magnets… and somehow, that’s not the worst thing in the world. In fact, Zay might even say he’s glad about it.

Farkle pushes his luck, as per usual, stepping forward to pull Zay into a hug. Zay is startled at first, not used to such blatant affection between them, but after a moment he returns it.

Farkle: Thank you. For believing in me. Zay: You’re welcome. [ a beat ] Don’t make me regret it.

Farkle laughs, sniffling to keep the tears at bay. But he holds on as long as Zay will let him, soaking up his support while it’s tangible in his arms.

He knows when the time comes to head back across the country, he’s going to need it.

INT. NYU - ADVISOR’S OFFICE - DAY

Nigel is wrapping up a meeting with his guidance counselor. He’s finally told them about his intentions to transfer, and thankfully, the counselor is more than willing to help. They’ve outlined all of the steps he’ll need to take in the next semester to hopefully achieve a successful spring change, should all go well, and offered resources for him to dig into during the summer to prepare.

Nigel smiles, offering sincere thanks.

EXT. NYU - CAMPUS - DAY

Nigel emerges from the admissions building, feeling a little lighter. It’s not a salve for everything -- his puzzles and problems to solve are still numerous -- but it’s a start. He’s got the tools now to go for his ambitions, so long as he can rally the courage to follow through.

More than that, he actually stood up and did it. He went and got what he needed, wasn’t afraid to ask for it. Didn’t wait for the perfect moment, or the least amount of friction; didn’t hold himself back until his girlfriend gave him permission or his parents pushed him out the door. He didn’t even need his diva-like friends to nudge him -- or rather, shove him, typically -- into following his own dreams. This time, he did it for himself.

Nigel cares about the unknowns still at play, but he cares about his future too. After such a difficult year, he cares, and that feels like the greatest triumph there is.

Song Cue ♫ ♪ “Golden” as performed by Hippo Campus || Performed by Nigel Chey

Nigel’s solo is pensive, thoughtful, a calm contrast to much of the other performances going on this episode. It’s still in his style, alternative and a little bit unpolished, but there’s a peace to it that he hasn’t really gotten to experience yet.

EXT. NEW YORK STREETS - DAY

As he traverses through the city, making his way back home, it feels like he’s seeing the city in a new light -- less constricting, not looming over him and threatening to topple.

He’s seeing himself differently, too. That’s a recurrent element to the rendition, as he catches his reflection in fountains and glossy shop windows. It doesn’t feel so difficult to look at himself anymore -- it’s starting to feel like he’s actually looking at himself again, whoever that may end up being. For once, the prospect of meeting the new him doesn’t feel so dreadful.

Why is it I want to change for you? Why is it I want to see this through?

More tellingly, although the lyrics to the song could easily be interpreted as sent towards a lover, when Nigel sings it this time, it doesn’t read that way. This isn’t a serenade to Jade, or some theoretical outsider looking in.

When Nigel sings about wanting to see things through, wanting to stop sleepwalking through life with hollowed out feelings, he’s dedicating it to himself.

INT. CHUBBIES - DAY

Riley is grabbing a late afternoon lunch with Josh before he heads back to Los Angeles, the two of them occupying the back corner booth of the diner. With that privacy, and given Lucas isn’t working a shift, Riley feels confident enough to tell Josh about her grand plans to move to California. She might be closer to her uncle before too long.

Josh doesn’t have the same panicked reaction as Farkle, but he’s not as unwaveringly supportive as Eric. Not that he doesn’t trust her instincts -- if she thinks this is what she wants, then okay, he’ll back her -- but it’s the rest of the world he doesn’t trust. She can control herself, yes, but she can’t control other people.

Riley: You don’t trust Lucas. Josh: That’s not what I said. I have no issue with him. When I met him at the wedding, he seemed cool. Kinda weird, but like, that’s all of your friends.

Touché. Riley shrugs, not denying that.

Josh: And I know he likes you. It doesn’t take a lot of observation to pick that up. I’m just saying that with a big choice like this -- and this goes for anything like this -- you need to look out for yourself. Like, have you talked about this with him? Riley: Not yet, but we’re going to. We’re meeting this weekend. Josh: Okay, then, prepare for the fact that he’ll be caught off-guard. He might not react the way you expect him to, at least at first. And because you don’t know how that might go, optimistic as you may be, take measures to protect yourself. I get that you’re not gungho about NYU, but maybe don’t signal to them you’re ghosting until you’re absolutely positive you’re going to California. Like, not just in your soul, but logistically. In concrete, tangible plans. Follow your heart, but don’t shoot yourself in the foot to do it.

Josh wants Riley to do whatever she believes she should do, he just wants her to take care of herself when doing it. It’s fair advice, coming from her thoughtful uncle who may just be a little bit older and wiser than the rest of them.

Admittedly, Riley was getting a bit caught up in the whirlwind excitement of the whole thing. She acknowledges his guidance, agreeing she won’t make any major shifts until she and Lucas are on the same page. Josh can breathe a little easier.

INT. CHARLIE’S APARTMENT - LUCAS’S BEDROOM - DAY

Lucas, on the other hand, is currently on the phone with Dylan and Asher. He explains to them that given Kenneth’s passing, he and Charlie agreed it would make sense for him to move back in with Grace to help her with the apartment as much as he can before his move in a couple months. Not to mention it’ll keep her from being so alone, whether she’d ever admit to feeling that way or not.

Speaking of that move, though… it’s really actually happening! Can you believe it? Although we can’t hear their end of the conversation, based on the way Lucas smiles, it’s clear that Dylan and Asher are being especially cheerleader about this. They’re excited for him, and they hope he’s excited too.

Lucas: Yeah. Yeah, I am. [ a beat ] Did you all see the link I sent to the program website?

He settles onto his stripped mattress as they respond, pulling his chunky laptop towards him where that webpage is still up. Even just looking at it makes Lucas smile, although it still feels surreal. He’s going somewhere. He’s actually doing this.

The only con, Dylan thinks, is that he has to face it alone. Lucas scoffs at first.

Lucas: As if I’ve ever had a problem going it alone?

Maybe once upon a time, but Lucas has softened since then, they argue. They know he’ll be fine, and it’ll be great, but it’s just a little sad he can’t bring any of them with him. Part of growing up and branching out, or whatever…

Well, maybe not quite. Dylan’s innocent commentary sends an unsettling shiver through Lucas as he remembers the fact that he may not be so alone after all. If Riley’s plans come to fruition, she’ll be dropping all of her various goings on here to trek across the country with him.

Lucas still isn’t sure how he feels about that concept -- which is even more confusing, since he figures it should be simple. He should be happy. He loves Riley, so it should be thrilling. It should be easy.

Lucas: What? Sorry. No, yeah, I’m still here.

But not for long. And unless he gets his mind together, Riley may not be either.

EXT. COLUMBIA UNIVERSITY - CAMPUS - DAY

Meanwhile, a stone’s throw away from Barnard where Riley once had her eye and just a stretch from Adams, Columbia University sits nestled in the heart of the upper west side. A beautiful, picturesque campus somehow interwoven into the concrete jungle, feeling just as classic Northeastern collegiate as its Ivy siblings and boasting the academic credentials to match.

This is where we find Charlie, standing by the fountain on the main thoroughfare through the center of campus. Looking around at it all, soaking up the view, breathing in the essence of what the (at least) next four years of his life are going to be like.

Yes, Charlie is attending Columbia University, starting in the fall. Based on the effortless smile on his face, he feels pretty good about that decision.

Zay, off-screen: Literally, how did they even fit this in here? It’s like they dropped a stuffy Harvard anvil on Harlem’s toe.

Charlie’s smile widens as he shakes his head, spinning around to face Zay. He’s brought him along to show him the campus, sharing where he’ll be spending the foreseeable future while Zay is going to be wherever he is in the meantime.

Zay doesn’t seem all that wowed, but that’s not surprising given his disdain for school. Honestly, it’s difficult to tell how much of his aloofness is genuine versus just playing it up for the bit.

Charlie: Columbia has been here for a long time. Way before Chubbies, and Adams, at least. Zay: Now you’re just lying. Chubbies is a historic landmark. It was circa the same era as the Egyptian pyramids. Don’t disrespect. Charlie: And isn’t this exactly the sort of place you’d expect someone like me to end up? Great place to foster Acute Nerd Disorder, don’t you think? Zay: You said it, not me…

Charlie feels compelled to defend his decision, enthusiastically launching into all of the positives about the school. The history, the commitment to academic rigor. The fact that he doesn’t have to leave the city; that it has so many different areas of study all with glowing recommendations.

Charlie: One reason I chose it is because it has a respected dance program, if I decide to go that route. But all of its departments are strong, which is something I wanted, since I don’t know what I want to do yet. History, English, education -- Zay: What did you sign up for as your starting major again? Charlie: English with a concentration in classic lit and a double minor in history and dance. Zay: Figures. Charlie: But that’s just to get my foot in the door. You know, give myself time to figure out what exactly I want to pursue. And with the options here -- I mean, you saw the course catalogue! Being here, I think I can really --

Yeah, this is nice promotional fodder and everything, but it all means nothing to Zay. There’s really only one thing he cares about, the only criteria that matters to him as to whether Charlie should spend another second of his life on it. He gently interrupts his rambling.

Zay: Are you happy?

The question is effective, bringing Charlie to a halt. He pauses for a moment, really thinking about it…

Then the smile is back. Bright, beautiful, breathtakingly real.

Charlie: Yeah. Yeah, I am.

Zay mirrors it. It’s so good to see that smile -- to know it’s genuine. That’s all that matters to him.

Zay: Then it’s good.

High expectations and Ivy pride be damned. Charlie’s grin brightens, absorbing the blessing for all its worth.

Anyway, Zay better get used to spending time in nerdom. Charlie closes the distance between them and comes to join him, taking his hands and reminding him that he’ll probably be getting decently familiar with this campus too in the coming years. That is, if he intends to visit him at all.

Which he will. Because we finally getting one piece of confirmation surrounding the mystery of Zay and Charlie, even if Zay’s exact status remains elusive…

They’re not splitting up. No matter what Zay intends to do. No breakups on the horizon for them, not if they can help it.

Distance or no distance, Zay and Charlie are staying together.

So yeah, Acute Nerd Disorder exposure is part of the package. Zay rolls his eyes, but steals a kiss immediately after, so he’s clearly not that put off about it. If it’s Charlie, then it’s worth it.

Academia doesn’t resume torture for another couple months, though, and as cute as this little prison tour is, Zay has some better ideas about how they could be spending their afternoon. Sure, they could continue to trudge around campus and see all the academic sights… or they could hop the train back to Charlie’s and engage in more troublesome fun. Doesn’t that sound way more appealing?

He initiates another kiss, this one slower and more suggestive, and Charlie smiles against his lips just because he’s so darn transparent.

Zay: So? What do you want to do?

Ain’t that always the question? At least Charlie feels empowered to decide these days. He contemplates for a moment, letting his gaze flit down to Zay’s lips. As if he’s seriously considering giving in…

But then he smirks, Catholic demon as ever, and pulls away. Slipping from Zay’s grasp, walking backwards and challenging him to follow. Because it’s the two of them, and it’s more fun to draw things out -- and it’s never as simple as Zay wants it to be.

This time, though, the cosmic teasing is in their control. They make the rules now. So when Zay sighs, he’s not actually mad, and the smile still on his face gives him away.

What does Charlie want to do? Well… as the upbeat, iconic pop instrumental kicks in…

Song Cue ♫ ♪ “Cut To The Feeling” as performed by Carly Rae Jepsen || Performed by Charlie Gardner & Zay Babineaux

If you can believe it, it’s actually been a full two seasons since we had an authentic, full-blown dance duet between Zay and Charlie. The last time was “Rewrite the Stars,” poetically, and that pas de deux was far more tragic than this return to form.

With this performance, the two of them did manage to defy expectations and chart their own destiny, so they’re free to be what they are. Enthusiastic, enlivened, full of energy and passion and fully enamored with one another. It’s a duet that is undeniably, unequivocally earned, and it feels all the more powerful because of that.

Charlie takes the opening verse, taunting Zay to follow his lead, which pulls them into a continued tour of the Columbia campus. But the focus is less on the school now, and more on them. Instead of making the jaunt about the university, it acts more as a backdrop for their choreographed back-and-forth. A shifting and changing set piece to their production, rather than the star.

Which makes sense -- when it’s Zay and Charlie, when the two of them really get to dance together, there’s no competition.

The playful nature persists throughout, a refreshing change of pace given their history. It feels more true to them, a promising representation of what their dynamic is allowed to be when both of them are at their best -- when they’re allowed to be themselves. Both of them -- especially Zay -- try more than once to steal a kiss, but the other swerves at the last second, nudging the teasing along just a bit longer. And as expert and sharp as their choreography is, there’s a looseness to it as well. The ease and fluid motion that comes from natural chemistry, totally uninhibited trust.

The most direct callback to the rendition’s spiritual predecessor happens at the bridge, when Zay and Charlie come together close again. Zay spins Charlie towards him and they bring each other close, foreheads pressed together as they move. A mirror image to how they were during the bridge of “Rewrite the Stars,” when the two of them were at odds and seconds away from falling apart.

The duets are equally emotional, but this time, it’s unbridled joy rather than despair. This time, they’re on the same page, walking in the same direction, and they’re no longer asking the universe for permission.

Take me to emotion, I want to go all the way Show me devotion and take me all the way

It’s not impossible. They proved it. Now, all that matters is what they want.

Charlie takes the belt at the end of the bridge, pulling back but keeping their hands locked together as he pulls Zay off again --

EXT. COLUMBIA UNIVERSITY - ROOFTOP - DAY

And they arrive on the roof of one of the campus buildings, just as the song implies, to finish out the final chorus. The sunset and horizon of their city behind them, choreography as strong as ever and smiles almost damningly radiant.

As the song comes to an end, and Charlie exhales the final repetition of the chorus, Zay finally wins. He spins Charlie back towards him and this time, he doesn’t slip away, rewarding Zay with a passionate, blissful kiss.

Exactly where the two of them belong. Amen.

Imani, pre-lap: So Zay isn’t going to do this tour?

INT. KITCHEN - NIGHT

Yindra is currently cooking dinner with her grandma, IMANI (70s), the one who hosts her when she’s home in the city. She’s short and stocky, stern and no-nonsense, but so full of love for her kin and community it cuts through even when she’s trying to be her most intimidating. Yindra is about half a foot taller than her, but you can see the resemblance, particularly in how both women carry themselves.

Another thing they have in common is being nosy, so yeah, Imani also wants the Zay tea. But just like everyone else, Yindra doesn’t have anything to give her.

Yindra: I don’t know. He hasn’t told us anything. Imani: Well, if he’s snuggling up to this white boy like you describe, then you’d think he’s made up his mind. Yindra: You’d think, but no. Zay and Charlie are just… like that. It’s legit with them. [ a beat ] Also, they’re both crazy. Imani: Hmph. Seems to run through that school of yours. Yindra: Tell me about it. But you’d like Charlie. He’s a good Christian fella -- a real one.

That does seem to actually win Imani over a bit. Yindra is distracted from chopping onion when her phone buzzes on the countertop.

Another update.

“This email is to inform you that ⅖ spots have officially been accepted in the group. Our time and opportunities are limited, so please respond with your decision as soon as possible.”

The clock keeps ticking down. She’s running out of time. Imani notices the distress in her features, asking what’s the matter. Nosy, yes, but protective too.

Yindra gives her the summary, explaining the opportunity and the offer on the table. Imani seems skeptical, just by nature, but Yindra does take care to give a balanced take and highlight the genuine pros of a career move like this. It is a potential game-changer, and she is excited about it. Mostly. There’s just this part of her, the distrusting, defensive part, that feels like she should be on her guard. And right now, she doesn’t have a ton of time to debate with that side.

Yindra: I just… wish there was a way to guarantee it would be worth it. That I could know I was going to get something out of it before signing my life away to this group.

Imani points out that whatever the contract is, it likely won’t be lifelong -- legally, that is. But she understands Yindra’s hesitation. In fact, if she could have it her way, Yindra wouldn’t do it.

Yindra: Wait, seriously? Do you mean that? Imani: Yes! If I could have it my way, you’d stay right here in this apartment. You wouldn’t leave it. You would be safe, and protected, and you wouldn’t ever go out and see anyone or do anything. You’d be fully defended, full-time, and then these old bones could finally get some sleep at night.

Okay, so. She’s making a point. Yindra sighs, earning a mischievous smile from Imani.

Imani: I’m not entirely joking, you know. I do feel that way, in my gut. I’m sure Darius would say the same thing if he had to tell the truth. Your mama, too, if she were here. Yindra: Yeah, well, she isn’t. Imani: No, she is not. Because she had dreams she needed to pursue. I am not saying I agree with those choices -- you know she and I have a lot to debate -- but that’s life. That’s the part about raising kids they don’t truly tell you about, the bit where you have to let them fall out of the nest. Yindra: Fall? Not… I don’t know, spread their wings and soar? Imani: You can hope, but you don’t know. Even flying starts as a leap of faith.

Point is, Imani shares Yindra’s fears and reservations. Especially for a place like Hollywood. It’s good, she thinks, that Yindra is trying to really consider the consequences of what this choice might hold. And if she could dissuade her from this dream entirely, well, she would.

Yindra: But… Imani: But, your life is yours. Not mine. And this dream you have, this talent… it is immense, Yindra. It is meant to be shared with the world. I remember the first time you took a solo at church choir, and you brought the house down with those vocal chords of yours. I turned to your papa and I said, “Dari, that little girl is going to put us all through our paces.” You were born to push the limits, to shine beyond all this. [ a beat ] If this girl power thing is the first step on that path, well, then I’ll prepare to buckle up.

But she can do it. Imani knows she can. And if Yindra hates it, or decides it isn’t for her, then she has little doubt that this little girl with the big voice can find another way forward. Nothing has managed to stop her before.

Yindra smiles, touched. She reaches forward and wraps Imani in a hug.

Yindra: I love you, Mimi.

Imani allows it for a moment, hugging her back… then she clears her throat, nudging Yindra back to work.

Imani: These vegetables aren’t going to chop themselves!

Yindra laughs, relenting and getting back to work. On the counter, her phone still lingers on that open email.

Three spots left…

INT. HART APARTMENT - NIGHT

Maya is battling similar uncertainty about the future, scratching out lyrics in her songwriting notebook in frustration. She has one chance to save her downward spiral, to resuscitate her career before it ever really got to start. She’s mad at Justin and Melissa for letting this happen, for doing this to her; she’s mad at herself for letting it happen.

She’s mad at herself for doubting, even for a moment and even now, that this is what she’s born to do.

Katy comes to join her, bringing a cup of warm tea. She figured Maya might need it, since she’s clearly been working hard since she got home.

While she has her, Maya takes the opportunity to ask for Katy’s advice. She avoids any of the nitty-gritty details of her current career status -- if the idea of telling anyone what happened at the retreat is hard, having to confess to her mom is downright unfathomable -- but focuses instead on her current predicament. If she had one shot to put herself out there, to make a song that would be her Hail Mary, what would she do? How would she approach it?

Maya: Because right now, all I’m ending up with is a lot of scathing lines and a deep derision towards any variation of the word “haute.”

Katy laughs, then contemplates the question. She surely agrees Maya doesn’t need to do another “O.M.G.,” as she’s proven she’s an ace at that. She could pull off diva in her sleep. And that’s not guaranteed to make any waves -- she already rode that with her breakout drop.

Instead, Katy comes back to her tried and true advice, the sentiments she’s been teaching her daughter the entire time. Share some authentic. Something true. The same basis for why she thinks the best emotions come through when you’re sharing it as a duet.

Katy: This is your chance to leave an impact, right? So let them see something real. I know that badass, hard-working star is who you are, but there’s so much more than that in this heart of yours. [ tapping her chest ] Let people hear that. If you speak from that, baby, I promise, people will listen. With a voice like yours, it’s impossible not to.

With that, she’ll let her get back to the craft. Maya thanks her, giving her a quick kiss on the cheek before she departs. Once she’s alone again, Maya lets that guidance sink in, trying to decide what to do with it.

Lord knows she has plenty of emotion roiling through her right now. But no way is she writing about the Hollywood drama -- both out of self-preservation and out of pride. She doesn’t want to write a love song; those may sell, but that’s not true to her. That’s not real Maya Hart. It won’t ring true, not when it counts.

So what exactly is she meant to do?

EXT. APARTMENT BUILDING - DAY

Yindra is waiting outside Nigel’s building the next morning, impatiently waiting. She taps her feet and dances in place, seemingly possessed by an anxious energy she can’t shake off these days.

She gets another notification on her phone, and though it sends dread through her, this time it’s just a text. From Jade:

“Thanks again for this. I’ll text when we’re good to go”

No other context, and Yindra doesn’t get the chance to respond to offer any to us. Because like a sneak attack, another email comes through right after.

“This email is to inform you that ⅗ spots have officially been accepted in the group. Our time and opportunities are limited, so please respond with your decision as soon as possible.”

They’re going faster and faster now. Yindra opens her message thread with Aleena, thinking about seeing if she’s one of those three or a remaining holdout, but Nigel pushes out of his building and comes to greet her before she can do anything. She quickly pockets her phone.

Nigel: Hey. Sorry I took a couple minutes longer than expected -- everything cool? Yindra: What? Oh, yeah, no. Just another reminder that my entire future is on the line and ticking away by the second, but all g. I’m aces. Nigel: Yikes. Do you want to talk about it? Yindra: Genuinely? No. Right now, I just want to spend a lovely, chill afternoon hanging out with my lovely, chill bestie before I go back to the sunshine city from hell.

She throws an arm around Nigel’s shoulders. Then she glances up at the sky, eyeing the clouds rolling in.

Yindra: Whatever we do, though, better be strategic. Those clouds do not look promising. [ meeting his eyes ] Maybe we should grab an umbrella.

EXT. SOHO PARK - DAY

This time, it’s just Zachary accompanying Isa on their latest lore stop. Today, they’re in a park we’ve never seen before, something from further back in Isa’s childhood. They’re currently sitting on a bench at a picnic table, looking around at the park. Across the way, a couple of families are playing with their toddler-aged children.

Zachary: It’s a nice spot. Bit of a hidden gem, I’d say. Isa: Valerie used to bring me here. During that brief window of time where she thought she’d be a parent for real -- the first time. I was like, six? [ nodding towards the buildings ] She rented out the penthouse in that building and acted like it was going to be the real deal. She was going to blow this mothering thing out of the water. [ a beat ] Only being a mom isn’t a role you can play. It’s a full-time job.

And, evidently, Valerie wasn’t cut out for that kind of work. Zachary frowns, sympathetic, but doesn’t try to make it better. He’s not really about empty platitudes. It’s one thing Isa likes about him.

Isa: I was back in the system by the next year. But during that time, I’d come here a lot, with or without her. Was just… I don’t know, nice. A good place to think. Be in my own head. [ a beat ] I’ve only ever brought one other person here before. Lucas. I think we were freshmen, and he’d just gotten in trouble at Adams and into this huge argument with Jack for trying to discipline him. It wasn’t pretty. He needed to get out, to blow off steam, so I thought about this. We ditched last period and I brought him here.

And that was that. Other than that, she’s kept her distance, kept it sacred… until now.

Zachary: I can see why you’d want to protect it. Isa: [ blurting it out ] This terrifies me, you know. What we’re doing. Like, I’m happy about it -- so fucking happy, believe me. I can’t believe it’s worked out how it has, in spite of the hiccups. Most of which, classically, were my fault. Zachary: I’m happy about it too. Isa: But it’s scary. It’s so fucking scary. Because like… now you, and Ruby, and the kids… you’re like, in it. You’re in my life. You’re seeing all these parts, and pieces, and becoming a part of it too. [ swallowing ] And that means you can leave. You can take it all away just as easily as you came. And I’ve had a lot of that in my life already, and it’s just… so not worth the possibility. Usually, it isn’t. I’m seriously not good about people leaving me behind.

Given the history, it’s not hard for Zachary to imagine why. Isa takes a deep breath, reining the emotion back in. They can do this. They can have this conversation.

Isa: I’m getting better about it. You know, with time. And therapy -- therapy is good. But it’s still… it’s not easy. And I’m not gonna be perfect about it. I know you aren’t either. I just wanted you to know… all of that. Why I’m kind of a mess. There’s a lot of reasons, honestly, but like… when Val was coming back into my life, I thought I’d get better. I thought I’d get over it. Then she left again, forever, and now it’s like…

That fear is so real. How fast people can disappear -- no matter how much you love them. Zachary nods, allowing Isa the space to express it.

After a quiet moment, he speaks.

Zachary: I understand. I don’t think that fear is strange or messy at all. Especially with what you’ve been through -- something I contributed to.

Isa exhales, swiping at their eyes.

Zachary: And to be honest with you, I can’t make any promises that I will always be around. Not because I don’t want to be, but because neither of us knows what the future holds. There is a lot about life that I can’t control, and neither can you. Some of the hardest parts of life to me are just… accepting that. Embracing the things you cannot change, letting go of the need to have it all exactly how you want it. I know it’s not easy, trust me.

No kidding. Isa nods, meeting his eyes.

Zachary: But I promise you, for what I can control, I will always keep you in mind. I will always want you to be in my life. I’ve already missed nineteen years of it, and now that we’ve got it somewhat figured out, I don’t intend to miss much more. Whatever you want to share with me, whatever is in your control to share, I will take it. I can give you that much.

And he will, happily. They’re family now, even if they’re still figuring out what exactly that means.

Zachary: It took me long enough to learn about your existence, let alone know it. Now that I know you, Isa, I certainly don’t intend to let you go. Not if I can help it.

That reassurance is all Isa wanted to hear. They manage a smile, watery as it is. Zachary reaches out and affectionately ruffles their hair, a gesture so awkward dad and yet so perfect for the moment that Isa can’t help but laugh in spite of the heaviness.

It’s progress. They’re on their way.

And from what they can control, they think they’ll be okay.

INT. APARTMENT BUILDING - DAY

Nigel and Yindra have made it back safe and sound before the downpour, the latter shaking out their shared umbrella as they head down the hall towards the Chey apartment.

Nigel: You know, you really didn’t have to walk me home. Or all the way to my door. I have walked home many a time before. Yindra: Um, babe, yes I did. You’re a flight risk these days, didn’t you know? I take my eye off you too long, before I know it, you’ll have split and disappeared into some Shakespearean cult in the wilderness of Maine. [ shaking the umbrella pointedly ] You know they’ve got killer clowns up there, right?

Okay, now she’s being weird. Nigel cuts her a look, accenting her bizarre behavior, but no point in arguing with her now that they’re at his doorstep.

In a second, it’s all about to make sense anyway. Yindra bites her lip to hold back a smile --

INT. CHEY APARTMENT - DAY

As they walk right into a surprise waiting for them, Nigel’s entire family accosting him with a greeting the moment he steps back through the door.

All: Surprise!

Nigel is certainly effectively surprised -- and a little panic-stricken. He just about jumps out of his skin and has to take a second to come back to Earth, placing his hand on his chest to calm his heart. Yindra is almost giddy with glee behind him, both thrilled and amused by his reaction.

Once he manages to keep himself from having a heart attack, Nigel gets a better look at what exactly he’s walked into. His whole family is there -- yes, including LEONA CHEY, without any grumpiness to be seen -- as well as Zay and Riley. They’ve basically thrown together a little party, a clearly Riley-made banner strung along the ceiling that reads “London Bound!” and a traditional Filipino cake on the table in the kitchen his mother clearly baked for the occasion.

Then there’s Jade. In the middle of it all, that creative twinkle in her eye, smiling right at him with absolutely no hint of upset.

It’s kind of hard to wrap his head around. Nigel blinks, resisting the urge to rub his eyes.

Nigel: What is all this? Reyna: Word may have finally trickled down to us that you officially talked to your counselor about the transfer. Leona: No thanks to you. Were you just not going to tell us? Liezel: But we were planning this before that. Jade called us, when you were abroad, to plan the whole thing out. Once you told her, she couldn’t wait.

Oh? Nigel lets his gaze drift back to Jade, who steps forward to meet him in the middle.

Nigel: You’re not mad at me? Jade: [ with a shake of her head ] Mm-mm. Nigel: But you were. You definitely were. Jade: Mm… not mad. Surprised, yes. Caught off-guard, yes. You could’ve gone about telling me better. Nigel: No delusions about that, believe me. Jade: But after I thought about it for longer than a split-second reaction… no. Of course not. This makes total sense. And if it feels right to you, following your passion, then it has to be good. Who am I to stand in the way of that?

So no, they’re fine. They’re going to be fine. Nigel exhales, relieved, and pulls her into a hug. She returns it, tightly, happy to be back in his embrace.

Then he realizes something, pulling back and giving her a look. She keeps her arms around his neck.

Nigel: So you weren’t icing me out this whole time, you were just holding me in suspense? For the hell of it? Jade: Think of it as payback. Besides, it felt appropriate -- I know you like a little bit of Shakespearean drama.

Oh, she is so… and he is so, so lucky. He can’t help but smile, shaking his head and stealing a quick kiss.

Leona: Ew.

But the party wasn’t the only trick she had up her sleeve. The group of them have been conspiring, and their results are something his parents are obviously eager to share with him. Jade takes his hand and guides him over to join them.

Ernesto: We know that even if you do this, if you manage to get accepted -- Zay/Riley: He will. Yindra: Hell yeah. Ernesto: Then it’s not going to be a cake walk. There will be financial matters to figure out. Hopefully, scholarships will do a lot of that for us. Yindra: Hell yeah. Liezel: But just in case -- we’ve pulled together a little something. As a team effort. We -- Reyna: Jusko, Liezel, just give it to him already! I’ll drop dead before you do at this rate!

All of them erupt into laughter, LIEZEL CHEY relenting. She reaches behind her near the cake and retrieves an envelope, holding it out for Nigel to take. He does, uncertain, eyeing the group of them before unsealing it and discovering what’s inside.

It’s a balance ledger from their bank, congratulating him on the opening of his brand new savings account. A different one than the one he’s had with his parents as co-signers since he was thirteen; one with more money than he’s ever actually had on his own pocket.

The starting balance is well over a couple thousand dollars. He stares at it, mouth dropping open.

Nigel: What -- what is this? [ to his parents ] This isn’t yours, is it? You need --

Liezel shakes her head, smile bright, while Ernesto pulls her close into a side hug.

Ernesto: It’s yours. We may have done a bit of last-minute community fundraising in the past week or so -- Reyna: All Jade’s idea. And with help from a genius like Riley -- instant success! Riley: I may have plugged some of my connections in the campaign world and tossed a word to my mom’s rich law friends. Zay: I passed word around Turner. Yindra: I did nothing because I have no money and no friends with money, but I provided moral support. Liezel: And we reached out to everyone we knew. Ernesto: They all know how much this means to you, how much you love doing this. When we told them your dream, they did not hesitate.

It certainly won’t cover everything, not even close. But it’s something. It’s a bit of cover, a safety net for a rainy day when he ends up thousands of miles away on his own.

And still more than that, too. Nigel turns his gaze back to Jade, welling up. She smiles, also a little choked up at his reaction.

Jade: I wanted you to see how many people believe in you. How many of us know this is what you’re meant to do. That there are so many people who will do everything they can to help you get there. Every step of the way.

Nigel exhales, stepping forward again and pulling her into an even tighter hug. She returns it just as enthusiastically.

Nigel: I love you. Holy shit. Liezel: Nigel. Jade: [ with laughter ] I love you too.

Reyna swipes a tear from her eye, so very happy to see how far Nigel has come. Riley hugs Zay close, Yindra dogpiling on their embrace and throwing her arm around both of their shoulders.

When Jade and Nigel pull apart, he directs that gratitude all around.

Nigel: I love all of you. Seriously. Thank you. [ voice cracking ] Thank you for being my family.

There’s nothing else he’d rather be. Liezel starts to cry, meeting him in the middle for a hug that Ernesto joins. Before long, it’s a full-on group hug, everyone crowding around Nigel and wrapping him in a warm embrace. Even Leona, who Reyna pulls into the pile with only a little adolescent reluctance.

Love, all the way around and all the way through.

EXT. MINKUS BUILDING - DAY

Love isn’t always as gentle as a summer breeze, though. Sometimes, it’s a hurricane, torrential and unpredictable -- and it can leave you with battle scars.

The rain is certainly threatening torrential now, falling in sheets off the side of the building and creating a symphony of splatters on the sidewalk. Even so, Isa waits, just barely sheltered under the extended edifice of the building over the driveway. They’re sitting on the steps outside the revolving doors, teeth chattering from the wind and arms crossed tight around their knees. It’s not clear how long they’ve been out there.

But what is clear is that they’re not going anywhere. Not until they get the chance to see him again, to say their piece. They’re not going to throw away their one shot to make this right.

Thankfully, they don’t have to wait much longer, but that’s about where the good news ends. Farkle steps outside with his suitcase, scanning for the Minkus car and spotting Isa on the steps instead. For a moment, he just stares, seemingly unable to comprehend that they’re actually there.

Then the driver comes dashing out from the car to take his bag, and it blows his cover. Isa catches the movement, then realizes where the chauffeur is heading, whipping to look over their shoulder and seeing Farkle standing there like a deer in headlights. They scramble to their feet just as the driver takes his bag, stumbling up the steps to reach his level.

Farkle starts to follow the driver down as if they’re not there, like he didn’t see them, but Isa isn’t going to play those games. Not today. Not when it matters this much.

Isa: Farkle. Farkle, wait!

He does, as if bewitched by their voice. He freezes in his retreat, screwing his eyes shut and making a point of staying faced away. He doesn’t trust himself if he looks them in the eye; he doesn’t know what he might say, or what might come spilling out of him that he can’t control.

They have to speak up, more so than usual, because the rain is making an uproar of its own.

Isa: Are you leaving already? Farkle: Yes. The jet leaves JFK in an hour. [ swallowing his emotion ] So if you’ll excuse me -- Isa: No, don’t --

Isa steps forward, closing some of the safe distance between them as Farkle goes still again. God, why is it so hard to walk away from them?

Isa doesn’t waste the brief opportunity. They take a deep breath, willing the words to come out when they need it to most. When it matters, right now, in spite of the rain and the chill and the way they’re trembling for reasons other than the weather.

Isa: You have to know I didn’t mean it. The stuff I said at the wedding.

Farkle winces, twisting his mouth into a line. When he responds, his voice comes out shaky.

Farkle: I don’t know what you mean these days. Been getting a lot of mixed signals. When I get any at all. Isa: I know. I know, and I’m sorry about that. All right? I haven’t been -- I don’t know how to handle this shit. I barely know how to handle any shit, but I’m working on it. This, though… I’m making it up as I go. And I know that sucks, and it isn’t fair, especially because this is the one thing that… [ come on, speak ] That actually matters. This is when it all really matters.

Sure sounds like saying just the right thing… and yet, somehow, that almost hurts more. Because how many times has Isa said something that totally knocked Farkle over, that took his breath away, only for it to be ripped away before too long?

Isa: But you have to know that what happened at the wedding wasn’t how I feel. I know you know that. Farkle: I don’t think you can speak for me. Isa: Farkle, come on. It was just… there was so much going on, and it had been an… insane day. I was so overwhelmed, and it just… I just shut down. But that doesn’t mean that’s what I felt. You have to be fair to me, too. Farkle: [ with a scoff ] Fair? Isa: Will you just look at me? If you do, you’ll look me in the eyes and see that I’m not -- Farkle: I can’t. [ shaking his head to himself ] I can’t. You know what that means, right?

Woof. Okay. Low blow, but perhaps earned. Isa can feel their resolve cracking, can feel that disgusting sense of shame and tears billowing up in their chest, but they force themselves to hold it together.

Isa: Farkle, please. Can we just talk about this? Farkle: I don’t think there’s anything more to say. Isa: Stop. Don’t be like that. There is, and we can work it out. We just -- if you’ll just listen -- Farkle: I can’t. I have to go. I have a plane to catch. Isa, frustrated: You’re not catching anything, you’re taking a private jet.

Regardless, Farkle seems set on his choice. He is going to walk away from them, from this, without even trying to put it back together. And that feels so damning to Isa, so unbearable a possibility, that they lunge forward without thinking and try to take his hand.

Isa: Farkle, please -- Farkle: No!

He yanks away from them, nearly stumbling down the step beneath them. Isa backs off, unprepared for the intensity of his response. He does grant their earlier wish, though, spinning around to face them but keeping a comfortable space between them. It doesn’t feel smart to get any closer -- not when emotions are running high like they are now.

Farkle: I can’t, Isa. I can’t do it anymore. I can’t handle another conversation, where we say the same old things but go nowhere. Where you tell me things I want to hear, because you know I want to hear them, but that’s all it is. Empty words. Hot air. Isa, quiet: [ with a shake of their head ] That’s not what it is. Farkle: Because I can’t -- [ voice cracking ] I can’t keep doing this. I can’t keep putting my heart on the floor, like some sick, sacrificial lamb, just to watch it get crushed. Over and over and over again, by people that I am desperate to have put it on a pedestal. I can’t keep… tearing myself apart for other people, people that I -- [ unable to finish it ] only to end up like this. Feeling like this. It’s hard enough living in my own head, the way God threw it together. I can’t keep holding my breath waiting, and living for, the promise that it’s real. I’m not gonna survive it.

So no. He doesn’t want to hear what they have to say. Even though that pathetic, sensitive side of him is dying to hear them out, to let them back in, they can’t do it anymore. He’s simply not strong enough. Sorry if that’s pitiful, or makes them feel like shit, but it’s the truth. This is where they’ve ended up.

And that’s not entirely Isa’s fault -- there’s certainly a large Jordan-shaped shadow looming over all of this -- but they contributed. Even though they wish they hadn’t; even though every inch of them is begging for that to change. They want to make it better. They do.

Isa: Farkle…

But they can’t. Not this time. Farkle simply shakes his head.

Song Cue ♫ ♪ “The Winner Takes It All” as performed by Mamma Mia! Original Movie Cast || Performed by Farkle Minkus (starting at 00:30)

[ Lyrics specific to characters -- follow along here! ]

Farkle launches into the ABBA and musical theater bombshell with the emotional aplomb it deserves, guaranteeing that we’re in for a juggernaut (as if Farkle Minkus is capable of delivering anything else).

I don’t want to talk about things we’ve gone through Though it’s hurting me, now it’s history

He starts off soft, still reluctant to even broach the surface of all these emotions -- of Isa -- but running out of places to turn with Isa basically forcing his hand. Kind of just like the mirror image of him at the wedding, though of course in the heat of the moment, that irony is lost on them.

EXT. MINKUS BUILDING - SCULPTURE GARDEN - DAY

Unfortunately, the lyrics are almost perfect for them, just with a few minor tweaks to really bring it home. We dig deeper into them as Farkle moves from a fragile first rendition of the chorus into the next verse, transitioning to the sculpture garden around the back of the towering building. It’s sheltered underneath another extension of the building, so it keeps them dry for now.

Farkle traipses through the classic and modern statues as he moves through the next few bars, using them as a shield to keep safe distance between him and Isa. Isa, who is desperately trying to keep up, but turned all around in this terrain they’re unfamiliar in. In every shot, something about the scenery separates them, keeping them abstracted from one another -- ripples in a reflecting pool; a blockish structure directly framed between them; them almost catching a glimpse of one another, but not entirely, partially hidden and blended into a similarly posed piece of artwork.

EXT. MINKUS BUILDING - DAY

Until we get to the bridge. When it hits, we end up back where we started, Isa chasing after Farkle around the front of the building. But there’s no more running in circles; the cycle ends here. They make it all the way down the front steps, onto the sidewalk and out into the rain, before Farkle spins around and throws out his final say.

I don’t want to talk! Because it makes me feel sad And I understand -- you’ve come to shake my hand

Farkle is practically spitting the words even with his excellent pitch, caught between a wail and a snarl. So tangled up in several competing emotions -- hurt, anger, lust, confusion -- that it just might tear him to pieces. It makes for a compelling performance, undoubtedly, but hell if it doesn’t ache to watch.

Especially for Isa. They stand in the rain with him, shaking their head. At how wrong he has their intentions; at how little he views himself. At how horrifically this beautiful disaster has spun-out, tragic yet somehow grotesquely fitting for an Icarus and his Dethroned Queen.

(It also, not coincidentally, has quite a few shades of this).

But right now, in this vulnerable a state, even the most loving empathy would just feel like pity. So Farkle takes Isa’s obvious emotion for personal indignation, some of his old pride at least rearing up enough to help him prevail in this last argument. His next words are dripping with sarcasm, even as they’re just on the brink of total emotional fallout.

I apologize if it makes you feel bad Seeing me so tense, no self-confidence But you see…

Then he slams into the final chorus, belting out the titular adage as he whirls away from Isa and leaves them behind. Dashing through the rain towards his getaway car, not able to stomach one more second of the confrontation without risking total collapse.

Isa doesn’t fight him this time. They don’t chase after him. They let him go, because if he’s made anything clear enough, it’s that that is the least they could for him right now.

INT. MINKUS CAR - MOVING - DAY

Farkle slams the car door and slumps back against the seats, immediately descending into tears as soon as Isa is out of sight. He rails into the final, powerhouse notes of the performance, delivering a gut-wrench he hasn’t quite achieved since “Santa Fe.” “Dear John” was up there too, but that pain was different. That pain was righteous, liberating, a musical exorcism in the aim of something better.

This is none of that. This just hurts. Palpably, potently, through every muscle in his body.

EXT. MINKUS BUILDING - DAY

Isa obviously feels the same, given the tears that are streaming down their face. They give up and crumple back on the steps, not sheltered from the rain, hiding their head in their hands.

EXT. AIRPORT JETWAY - DAY

As the final backing vocals carry us through to the end, Farkle exits the family car and jogs towards the jet waiting on the runway. He doesn’t look back, doesn’t second-guess. Right now, the only thing he wants to be is away.

INT. PRIVATE JET - DAY

As the backing choir winds down and the music dwindles to a simmer, Farkle tosses his backpack aside and collapses into one of the seats. He tilts his head against the window, looking out towards the rain on the runway… and then it really hits him. Slowly, then all at once.

He almost whimpers the last line, voice quickly deteriorating to the tears.

The winner takes it all…

INT. YINDRA’S ROOM - NIGHT

That evening, Yindra is surprised when she receives a text from Kimmy Price. She asks whether or not Yindra is back in Los Angeles yet, or if she’s still in New York on holiday.

Kind of a specific question, but Yindra gives her an honest answer. She texts back that she’s still in New York, and won’t be back in LA until the weekend.

Kimmy answers back surprisingly fast, and with an unexpected twist.

“oooookay that’s perfect!!! i’m actually in nyc right now too and was hoping we could meet up? maybe coffee tomorrow? let me know 😊😊”

Okay… definitely not what Yindra was expecting. What is her competitor doing in New York when she’s from Ohio, for one, but more so why would she want to meet up with her? When everything is so up in the air, and there’s absolutely nothing to gain from it?

But then, why is Yindra so suspicious about it -- does everything have to have an ulterior motive? Is this what the rest of her life is going to be, doubting every friendly face because they might slip poison in her macchiato?

She doesn’t want to live that way. If she’s going to do this, have this career, she isn’t going to become that person. Not if she has any say.

So she responds affirmatively, texting Kimmy an agreement and telling her she’ll send her the address of this place she likes. It’s pretty popular in her neck of the woods.

Kimmy reacts with a heart, which Yindra chooses against her anxiety to take at face value.

INT. JACK AND ERIC’S PLACE - ISA’S ROOM - NIGHT

Rain still pouring outside, Isa makes it back to their room at Eric’s, drenched and exhausted. His place was the first one they thought to go to, even though he isn’t there. It’s safer here, more secure. And right now, after all that, they need solitude to work through this on their own.

They peel off their soaked jacket, their tee at least having been spared the worst of it. They know they should go shower, dry off, maybe just climb into bed and forget it all for the night. But it wouldn’t be so easy -- there’s way too much bubbling up in their chest, in their mind, desperate to be felt. Needing to be expressed. All the things they didn’t get to say, all the reassurances and explanations and simple declarations Farkle didn’t give them the chance to give.

But it has to come out some way. Sometime. Farkle wasn’t ready to hear it now, and honestly, he may not ever be. But Isa has to get it out. They have to express it.

And maybe, in the future, if there’s even a chance…

So they use their words. Isa settles down at their desk and pulls a fresh piece of paper from the drawer, grabbing their pen and starting to write. Pouring everything out into a letter -- the way they’ve learned to do for years now, one of the only therapy tricks that has done them true good. The same method Farkle used a year ago, that ended up detonating at a more opportune -- or perhaps inopportune -- time.

Isa doesn’t hold back. They don’t think they could.

INT. THRIFT STORE - DAY

Once the sun has risen again and the rain has ebbed, Riley is sifting through the racks at one of her favorite spots. Getting her New York fashion fix in before she might not get to enjoy it again for a while. And with important intention, too, as she’s trying to pick out an outfit for her conversation with Lucas.

She pulls a pretty floral dress off the rack, vintage and just a bit quirky, but totally Riley. Excitement sparks in her eyes as she flips it over, checking for any obvious red flags.

Charlie, off-screen: Oh, that looks awesome.

Riley lifts her gaze, smiling as Charlie comes over to join her. As promised, they’re sharing this shopping afternoon.

Riley: You think? Charlie: Definitely. It’s completely your style -- and I’m pretty sure you’re one of the only people on Earth that could pull this off. Zay: Speak for yourself. I’m standing right here.

Zay swings around the side of one of the pillars nearby, standing on the pedestal with the mannequins. Charlie gives him an exasperated -- but fond, always so damn fond -- look.

Charlie: This? You really think you’d look better than Riley in this. Zay: Bet. Give it to me, I’ll try it on right now. Riley: Yeah, no thanks. I don’t need you ripping it with your dancer biceps before I even get the chance to wear it.

Their loss. Zay shrugs, crossing his arms and leaning against the post. If they’re both so confident that this is the right one, though, then Riley doesn’t need much more convincing.

Riley: I’m sold. I think Lucas will like it too -- it’s one of his favorite colors. Zay: Isn’t he colorblind? Charlie: [ ignoring him ] He will for sure. But also like, you’re the one wearing it. That’s all it takes. Zay: Not that he deserves it, but…

All right, that’s enough cheek out of you, Babineaux. Charlie and Riley both shoot him a glare, so he relents, stepping down off the pedestal and coming to join them in between the racks. Although Zay has always had a knack for taking shots at Lucas, Riley is more sensitive than usual right now, so she addresses it head on.

Riley: You don’t seriously mean that, right? I mean, I know he’s not your favorite person. And I know that me moving and everything -- I get why it probably seems like a lot. But are you really that deadset against it? [ eyeing them ] Not that anything you say will have remotely any impact on my decision.

Yeah, that much they both know. Hard to change the mind of Riley Matthews when she’s determined… but her vulnerability shines through anyway.

Zay and Charlie are two of her best friends, two of the most important people in her life, and she trust their judgment. How do they really feel about it, aside from the characteristic digs?

Charlie has no issue, which he’s made clear since Riley told him. He’ll support her choice no matter what, just like she’s always done for him. Zay, on the other hand… both of them look at him pointedly, waiting for him to say his piece.

Well?

After a long moment, Zay sighs. Because no, Lucas is not his favorite person, and yes, he hates the idea of Riley moving so far away (selfishly, that is). But in truth…

Zay: No, I’m not that pressed. It’s what you want, and if makes you happy, then my opinion is pretty much irrelevant. [ a beat ] He loves you. And you love him, for some reason, so…

So no, he’s not going to get in Riley’s way. No, despite his theatricality, he trusts her judgment without hesitation. He loves her, so he’ll always want to protect her, but if this is what she’s decided is the best for her, then who is he to argue?

They both love her, and they will miss her, but it’s Riley’s future. Whatever she chooses to do, they’re behind her. Every step of the way.

Riley smiles, realizing in an instant that she’s about to be so far away from them. Just when she’s finally gotten them back, together and at peace, the way it all belongs. She finds herself tearing up.

Riley: I’m going, and all that, but God, what am I going to do without you guys?

It’s a question all of us are wondering, Riley. Charlie starts to tear up too, because naturally, and Zay shakes his head affectionately.

Zay: Y’all. I swear.

But he doesn’t want to think about it either. So instead he pulls them both into a hug, Riley leaning into it automatically and holding them both close.

No matter what the future holds, she knows for sure she is never letting them go again.

INT. LUCAS’S APARTMENT - DAY

As mentioned previously, in light of Kenneth’s death, the apartment is going through a bit of an overhaul while they go through his things. Trying to declutter, take some of the stuff out so that Grace isn’t left all alone with it all.

Right now, GRACE FRIAR is going through a box of photos, one that got buried somewhere in the last several years. Rather than too deep into the past, this is more close the present than it seems -- Polaroids from Lucas’s toddler years, right in that delicate time between heaven and hell. When things still felt possible, hopeful, and her love was so bright… but the shadows were always looming just around the corner. It was never quite settled; they never really had peace.

She lifts her gaze when the front door opens, tensing just slightly out of old habit. But it’s only Lucas who walks into the room, giving her a nod. He briefly steps into the kitchen to drop groceries and claims he is working on getting the last of his things from Charlie’s apartment, and apologizes for how he hasn’t been around as much as he hoped.

Grace shrugs, waving off his apologies. No need. There’s no rush, really. When he steps back into the room, she holds out one of the photos for him -- one of the two of them, two-year-old Lucas plopped in her lap, both of them looking gentle and unsure. Not quite sure they’re meant to be there, but making it work anyway.

The spitting image, truly.

Grace: Have you ever seen these?

Lucas shakes his head before he even sees the pictures. They never were big on sharing mementos around here. He takes the Polaroid, looking at it for himself.

Grace: I think Ken took that. Once we actually finally got this couch in here. Lucas: Looks like you don’t want to be there. [ a beat ] Me either.

Grace smiles, slightly amused in spite of the macabre edge to that. Maybe that’s true, but that’s the hand they were dealt.

Grace: And here we are still. [ taking it back ] You’re finally getting to go where you want to be, though.

Lest he forget the strides he’s made, and the freedom they’ve both just begun to explore. Lucas absorbs that, glancing down at the rest of the photographs in the box as Grace sifts through them.

They almost feel fake. Like staged replicas, because of how normal they look. If you flipped through those snapshots, you might be able to believe just for a second that their family was like everybody else.

Lucas: Can I ask you a question?

Grace nods. Lucas knows what he wants to ask -- needs to ask, at this point -- but he finds it hard to put into words.

Lucas: How… I mean… things with dad. [ shaking his head ] How did… Grace: I know what you’re asking.

Lucas meets her eyes, surprised. Does she? She recedes a bit, inherently growing shy, but she pushes forward regardless.

Grace: You want to know how it ended up like this. How did I ever let myself get here?

So she does know. Maybe because she’s asked it herself, numerous times, for much longer than Lucas ever contemplated it. He nods, sheepish.

Grace carefully puts the box onto the coffee table. After a long moment of quiet, she sighs.

Grace: It wasn’t always like this. [ a beat ] I know you probably find that hard to believe. But… it wasn’t. It didn’t start this way. Ken… he wasn’t always this… much. Not at the beginning.

It wasn’t all bad. Like most abusive relationships, it was hard to leave for a reason.

Grace: I loved your dad. And he loved me. Really, he did. And sometimes… it was good. [ delicately emotional ] It was really good.

But not always. Not enough. Not, ultimately, in the ways that matter most. And if you asked her to define when it changed, when the switch flipped -- if it ever actually did, rather than a long, gradual descent into a new kind of normal -- she wouldn’t be able to tell you. When you’re in it, living the day to day, it just sort of happens. Before you know it, that’s where you are.

That’s exactly what Lucas doesn’t want to hear.

Grace shrugs, shaking her head wordlessly.

Grace: So how did I end up here? I don’t know. I fell in love. Then, sometime in the last twenty years… I woke up.

And now they’re here. Survivors, in spite of it all.

Lucas frowns.

INT. HART APARTMENT - DAY

A knock on the door startles Maya out of her meditation, one of her last-ditch efforts to evoke some musical exorcism that’ll give her the hit she needs. She frowns, getting to her feet and calling over her shoulder.

Maya: Mom? Are you expecting someone?

INT. APARTMENT BUILDING - HALLWAY - DAY

It’s not for Katy. When she pulls open the door, Isa is standing on the other side. Surprised she actually opened the door, a hair sheepish, but obviously purposeful in their showing up.

After a moment of shock, though, Maya isn’t the most receptive host. She immediately starts to close the door.

Maya: I don’t have anything to say to you. Isa: Maya, wait! Please.

They hold their arm out, more than prepared to be crushed with a slam of the door. But Maya isn’t so moved by that -- they’re more taken aback by the “please,” the gentle plea from someone who is rarely gentle nor prone to beg. Neither of them are. It’s part of what made them so alike.

So against her prideful instincts, Maya doesn’t shut them out. They open the door a bit further, inviting Isa to make their case. They get one chance, so they better make it count.

Isa: I’m not here to make you like me again. I’m not here to apologize, or explain myself -- not to you. I know it wouldn’t make a difference.

Somehow, Maya seems a bit stung by that. And maybe, just maybe, a little disappointed.

Maya: Then why are you here? Isa: Because you’re the last hope I’ve got. And I’m at the point where I’m not above throwing out Hail Marys.

Okay, slightly intrigued… Isa reaches into their back pocket and retrieves a letter. Sealed with care, Farkle’s name written on the front.

Maya: You have to be kidding me. Isa: It’s all I’ve got left. I need him to know the truth. I had to say it somehow. But I know if I just send it -- if it even makes it at all, the postal service sucks ass -- he won’t open it. Not now. Maya, biting: I wonder why. Isa: You’re right. I know, you’re right, okay, and it’s beyond my good grace to ask for this. I… messed up, big time, and he doesn’t owe me this. Neither do you. Nobody owes me anything.

God, the pride of this must be killing them. Maya can imagine it, like secondhand smoke. Even so, here Isa is, doing it anyway. Because it’s that important to them; because it means that much.

Isa: But I just… I had to say my piece. So that at least I know I tried. At least there’s a chance… [ clearing their throat ] You love him. You love Farkle more than anybody on this planet. I know that. And I know you know him better than anybody.

Maya isn’t going to argue with that. She raises her eyebrows.

Isa: So from one person who cares about him to another… [ turning the letter in their fingers ] You’ll know if he’s ready to hear it. If ever. You can give it to him, whenever it’s okay, and he might actually give it a chance.

Isa meets her eyes, achingly sincere. Vulnerable with Maya, in this moment, in a way they haven’t gotten to be around each other in over a year.

Isa: So, I’m asking you. Just… take this. Whether you give it to him or not, I can’t control that. But I can at least give it every effort I can. Take every chance I have.

So… they hold out the letter, waiting for Maya to accept it. Praying that she will.

Isa: Please.

It’s a pretty impassioned pitch. Maya isn’t immune to a well delivered pitch… and truthfully, even if Isa hadn’t put their entire soul into the sell, Maya probably would’ve taken it regardless. The rift between them may be gaping and growing by the minute, but the ghost of their friendship is still there. The fondness they have for each other still lingers -- is probably always going to linger.

After a beat, Maya takes it, delicate in her manicured hands.

Isa exhales, nodding a silent thank you. Already relieved by the gesture, even if the letter never makes it to its final destination. At least they did everything they could.

Before they can make themselves scarce again, Maya offers one more remark.

Maya: He really loved you, you know.

Just in case they weren’t painfully aware. Farkle loves hard, maybe too hard, and he loved Isa with every ounce of his being. He loved them, and they fucked it up.

They know. God, does Isa know.

Isa: I know… [ shyly ] And I know you did, too.

That’s a confession that actually catches Maya off-guard. Isa’s admittance, after months of growing and time to heal, that they know Maya didn’t mean to hurt them when she left. That they both made mistakes, and mishandled the situation, which brought them where they are now. That regardless of what state they’re in now, the friendship they had before was real -- it meant something, enough to haunt both of them and wonder if it’s ever a possibility they could get it back.

Right now, that’s a no. But the future… well, none of them can know. Maya swallows.

Maya: Bye, Isa. Isa: Yeah. Bye. [ after a beat ] See you around?

Will they… after another contemplative moment, Maya clears her throat.

Maya: Guess we’ll see.

For now, it’s time to close the door. Maya does so, leaving Isa on the other side. They take a deep breath, closing their eyes and willing themselves to be okay with letting go.

INT. HART APARTMENT - DAY

Maya exhales an equally weighted sigh, leaning back against the door. She’s not usually so affected by other people; she isn’t usually so overwhelmed by people she’s dropped from her life. Why is this so different? Why is Isa so hard to shake off?

Because it was love. They loved each other, because of and in spite of their flaws. It was real.

Now it’s gone. Whatever version of them that existed before, it’s over now. They both have to figure out how to move forward -- as individuals, and a shared concept.

INT. APARTMENT BUILDING - DAY

Isa will try. That’s all they can do. As they take their first step onward and leave the apartment behind, and the synth-laden opening notes float in…

EXT. NEW YORK STREETS - DAY

Song Cue ♫ ♪ “You Let Me Down” as performed by Alessia Cara || Performed by Isa De La Cruz & Maya Hart

Isa starts off the emotional duet, stepping out of the apartment building and into the fresh air. Breathing it in, using it to power their march forward. They can move past this -- they have to. There’s no other choice.

Even with the ache, though, the performance is a marked improvement over where they started the season. Now the anger of the unexpected betrayal has ebbed, and they can both think clearly. They can reflect, look back on what happened, see where they both went wrong. They can accept that it isn’t a simple issue of “I’m right, you’re wrong” -- like most relationships -- and that the mistakes they made don’t completely erase the good that they shared.

They loved each other. They let each other down. Those two things can coexist. That’s life.

INT. HART APARTMENT - DAY

Maya picks up the second verse, moving away from the door to head towards the window. She pulls the curtain back, looking for Isa on the streets -- but they’re already gone. The moment has already passed.

It’s time to move on. Maya settles onto the window sill, tilting her head against the pane.

You're elusive and it kills me Inconclusive, never-ending

Whether their story is actually over is hard to say. Neither of them can know right now, in the present moment, what the future might hold. They just have to sit with this, try to wrap their heads around it, find a way to live with it.

They continue to pass the remaining lines back-and-forth split between Maya stoic in the window and Isa’s walk home, bringing a thoughtful and uncharacteristically demure conclusion to their journey for now. Isa takes the bridge, emphasizing the longing for how things used to be.

I will keep it, keep it sacred Like it's golden, wish you nothing But an exhale, and I'm hoping you hear when I say

Then the two of them sing the next line in unison, in balanced harmony, bringing that confession of mutual fault to musical light.

I never meant to let you down

Then we linger with Maya, still looking out the window. She takes the final line, soft and regretful, before the song fades away as softly as it arrived. For a moment, Maya sits in the quiet, heavy with the feeling…

Then it strikes her. This. This is what she’s feeling -- this is the great emotional mystery of her life right now, the one she’s been grappling with and battling and forcing down for an entire year. A cocktail of emotions she’s still struggling to figure out, to untangle the web of pride and loss and warmth and wistfulness knotted in her chest.

Inspiration has arrived like a lightning strike, overwhelming and electric. Maya climbs off the window sill and reaches for her songwriting notebook.

Time to get to work.

EXT. SVORSKI’S COFFEE - DAY

KIMMY PRICE is already at a table outside the familiar coffee spot when Yindra arrives, beaming brightly when she sees her coming. She waves and stands to greet her once she approaches, offering a friendly Midwestern-charm hug. Like they’re already friends catching up, rather than one-off acquaintances who may or may not be in direct competition with one another.

Kimmy: I’m so glad this was able to work out. Feels like fate!

Or maybe a sign… Yindra blinks.

Yindra: Right… yeah, for sure. Kimmy: I haven’t ordered yet, so we can go grab something together whenever you’re ready. Unless they come out and take orders? I’ve never been here before, so. Yindra: No, uh, yeah, usually if they see people at these tables they’ll come take the order for you. Sometimes. I guess we’ll see.

Sounds good. For now, that just leaves the two of them… Kimmy is all smiles, and the crazy thing is, it feels authentic. She’s not throwing on a plastic one for the Hollywood sheen; she doesn’t seem to have something scheming up her sleeves.

She is, for whatever reason, just happy to see Yindra again. It’s that simple.

Kimmy: I’m actually so excited to be here. It’s my first time in the city. Thought I’d take a trip to visit it, in case this all ends up working out and I’m stuck in LA for a long while. I’m a lot closer now in Ohio than I will be. Do you miss New York when you’re on the west coast? Yindra: Um… it’s… they’re different.

True enough. The small talk is nice, and everything, but with the stakes so high, Yindra can’t help but cut right to what she wants to know.

Yindra: Did you hear from them? The execs? Did you get an offer?

She doubts she’d be here talking to her if she didn’t -- that would be truly weird. Her instincts are right, as Kimmy nods enthusiastically.

Kimmy: I did. I accepted basically immediately. I mean, I talked it over with my folks and friends and everything, but it was a no-brainer really. I’m so keen. [ a beat ] Did you? Get an invite?

Yindra hesitates, instinctively holding her cards close to the vest… then she folds. No reason not to.

Yindra: Yeah, I did. Kimmy: Yes! [ with a clap ] I knew it. I knew you’d be one of them. Your voice is way too good not to. And the harmony you had with Tabitha, when you did that high-note, low-note thing in your workshop project?

Clearly, Kimmy was paying attention. And she’s glad to hear her instincts were right -- this is actually the exact reason she was hoping they could meet up on such short notice.

Yindra: You mean you didn’t just want to spend some time with dazzling lil ol’ me? Kimmy: Oh, no, I mean, that too. I’m so excited to bond with everyone. But if you got an invitation -- Yindra: Try to talk me out of it? Kimmy: OMG, no. The complete opposite! If you weren’t already convinced, I wanted to make sure I got the chance to try to win you over.

Oh. Huh. Yindra raises her eyebrows, skeptical, but she doesn’t interrupt or walk away.

Kimmy: The group needs your voice, Yindra. You really are so, so good. And I feel like with your personality, the whole laid-back, cool but bubbly thing -- that’s exactly the balance we need. You have an oomph, and the general public will so be drawn to that. It can add a little fire to the overall picture. I know I certainly don’t add that -- despite the hair, ha ha. Yindra: You’ve really thought a lot about this. You believe in this that much? Kimmy: Of course! A bunch of talented, driven gals coming together to take this world by storm… I mean, why wouldn’t I want to be a part of it?

That’s a good question, Kimmy. Her approach is so wholesome, yet aware, and so unabashedly passionate. It’s kind of refreshing, after all of the doom-and-gloom and the common too-cool-for-school vibe of the industry these days.

Kimmy: I just… I think this could be something. Something really, really great. Call it a feeling, intuition, I don’t know, but I trust it. I’m big on trusting my gut. [ with a grin ] And to have the chance to work with other young women who are so good, and gifted, who care about this as much as I do… I’m not gonna pass that up. Even if it lasts a snap in the grand scheme of things, I’ll take that start any day.

So she hopes Yindra seriously considers joining. Because she does think she is uber talented, some of the best vocal chops they had, and Kimmy would truly like to get her know her better and become friends. Maybe that’s corny, but it’s the truth. Kimmy doesn’t know how to be any other way.

And sometimes, corny works, because she’s kind of reinventing Yindra’s entire perspective on the whole thing right now. Why does it only have to be a potential cage, full of pitfalls and trap doors? Couldn’t there be some hope in it too? Maybe it’s not so much about what the future does or doesn’t have in store for Yindra -- what matters, at the end of the day, is the perspective she takes walking into it.

For now, she isn’t making any promises, but she assures Kimmy she’ll think long and hard about it. And fast, considering the spots are going quick. Kimmy beams.

Yindra: So, uh, I don’t know if they’re ever going to come out here or not. You want to go actually order drinks, or?

Kimmy laughs, nodding. The two of them get to their feet, Yindra opening the door for Kimmy as they step inside the shop.

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Text

BAU as College Professors AU

*cracks knuckles*

Penelope

penelope is a graphic design professor

she loves teaching kids about the wonders of photoshop!!

hates illustrator and indesign with a burning passion

(the illustrator pen tool can fucking choke for all she cares)

(AND HOW THE FUCK DO YOU PUT THE FRONT AND COVER TOGETHER IN INDESIGN!?!?)

(she really hates both applications sm 😭)

is always reluctant to teach them but does it begrudgingly

(she’s just glad there’s other professors in the department that teach editorial and graphic illustration)

teaches photography!!

encourages the students to be as expressive as they want to be with their pictures!!!

she’ll be just as enthusiastic to see a close up of a sneaker as she is to see a sunset landscape shot

teaches the graphic design studio classes too!!

she always has music playing!!

half the time, her students come into the class and her glasses are all skewed, her hands are covered in paint or glue and some abstract art piece is sitting on her desk

when the students ask her what it is, she just gives the projects human names

“hey professor... what did you make there?” “oh, this?? her name is... pam.... yeah, pam”

she doesn’t offer up any further explination than that

and the students just accept it

her office light is always off

but she has multiple fairy lights in various colors hung up

her office is v inviting!!!

students come to her to vent or to talk about their problems bc the campus therapist doesn’t help all lmao

she always has on the most unique outfits but she pulls them off so well

a ray of sunshine tbh!!

Spencer

teaches major science and math courses

he teaches chemistry but only chem for majors in chemistry

it’s not that he can’t teach chem for non majors

but he sometimes gets too ahead of himself and forgets he’s teaching a course for non majors

it’s easier for him to teach for majors because the students can follow his ramblings better

he teaches upper level math courses and usually only has like three students in those classes

he’ll sit up on his desk and debate with the students for the entire hour about the riemann hypothesis

he gets excited because the students are just as enthusiastic as he is

he is two extremes

he either shows up to his classroom like a half hour early and writes out all his notes on the board so that when the students come in, he can go right into lecture

or he’ll show up two minutes before class starts with his hair disheveled, his tie undone and his expression glazed over and just be like “listen up i woke up late and just downed an entire pot of coffee i brewed with several cans of monster energy—i don’t exist on this dimension anymore”

on those days, he lets his students work on other projects for other classes because he knows it’s not fair to ask his students to focus if he’s not

he helps them with their homework

penelope brings him lunch sometimes to make sure he’s eating

he appreciates it a lot because between lesson plans and grading, he sometimes forgets to eat

he’s absolutely the youngest prof on campus

sometimes even his students are older than he is

but everyone addresses him correctly and respects him bc he’s really chill

his office is a disorganized mess

there’s files and papers all over his desk

and a sculpture penelope made for him (she named that one “roger”)

psychology professor

she really has a passion for teaching and learning about human psychology

(she may have started to become interested in psychology bc her sister was in the psch honors course before she died)

she comes across as a little hostile and unapproachable tbh

but she’s young

and she’s attractive

and she’s not conveniently what people think a professor looks like

she’ll respect her students if they respect her

she didn’t graduate the top of her class and work her ass off for the degree to not be respected

if there’s any inappropriate comments aimmed towards her or anyone in the class, she kicks the aggressor out immediately

she stands at the front of the room and lectures for the beginning part of the semester

once she’s built a good rapport with her students (and vise versa), she becomes more chill

she’ll sit on the edge of her desk and encourage discussion rather than following a book or a set plan

(she finds it’s more interesting that way anyway)

sometimes her students will show up ten minutes before class starts just to talk with her once they’re comfortable with her

she always answers her emails students send her (queen shit tbh 👑)

some kids in the psych major course playfully call her “mom” because she always asks them how they’re doing and about their week

(she hasn’t decided how she feels about it, but she also lets it slide)

always wears pants suits but cuffs the sleeves to the jackets

her office always smells like eucalyptus because she has a small mist diffuser plugged in

she also has a small fish tank with a beta fish inside (its the appropriate size too!!)

(she let a student name the fish—it’s name is sir bubbles of argon)

she also has a sculpture from penelope (“her name is maxine”)

her desk is very organized and clean!!

there’s a small couch in her office and her door is always open

sometimes, students will come in if they’re having a hard time and need someone to talk to

they know jj is there to listen and she always seems to understand (she doesn’t judge them either)

Emily

teaches three languages, both for majors and non majors

spanish, french and russian

(she’s also quite fluent in arabic and italian and can hold her own if she’s speaking in german or mandarin, but the students don’t need to know that)

she’s actually very intimidating lmao

students are so scared of her 😭

she’s serious af

(she smiles in class sometimes though!!)

(besides, she’s only serious inside the classroom)

(outside the classroom, she might even be as approachable as penelope)

always dressed in expensive black suits, polished heeled shoes with very dark makeup and a “don’t fuck with me” steely attitude to match

she also wears expensive watches

she always stands at the front of the class and slowly paces the entire hour

one time someone decided to fuck off in her spanish 101 class

she didn’t even yell at him, she glared

rumor has it the kid was never spotted on campus again after that

(BOY SHE SCARED HIM SO BAD HE DROPPED TF OUT)

despite that, her classes are some of the easiest to take

one because emily has a way of teaching that helps all students understand

and two because her voice is naturally very easy to listen to

students taking her french 101 are going to leave the class speaking fluent conversational french

she also doesn’t tolerate people being racist, sexist, homophobic, transphobic, etc in her class

if she catches a bigoted comment someone makes in her class, she kicks them immediately

she brings in her cat sometimes

he’s all black and his name is sergio

(he’s her esa that she brings in when she’s feeling really stressed out)

he’s clipped on a harness and sits on her shoulder or on her desk

if he meows, she accepts it as an answer

it’s the only time the students ever see professor emily prentiss as soft

well

other than the days she has the class watch foreign films because the students can tell emily has a fondness for them

her office is pretty organized like jj’s

instead of it being light and inviting, emily decorated her office on a more dark side

she has a few animal skulls, crystals and other gothic memorabilia on her desk or bookshelf

she has a small cat bed on the corner of her desk that sergio sleeps in

on the other corner is a sculpture penelope made her

(it kinda looks like a crow and emily named it kurt)

really, the only colors in her office are dark, deep purples and the small lesbian pride flag sticker on the back of her laptop

Derek

teaches history classes

but like modern history

from like 1940s to present

he refuses to follow most western history books bc they’re not accurate like at all

in his first year of teaching, the dean of his department made him use a book and he hated every second of it

how accurate could the information be if they portray king tut as a white guy???

he graduated under one of the best historians in the country

he also traveled a lot after he graduated and met a lot of people that had first hand experience with major historical events

that’s really what he bases his teachings off of—first hand experiences and encounters

every two weeks or so, he’ll invite in guest speakers to his classes to talk about what they went through (depending on his lesson plans)

that’s how he likes to teach and learn (bc he always loves to learn new things!!)

this is random, but also he is the type of professor to randomly box jump up onto a desk

he also sits in chairs backwards and has a more laid back style to teaching

his exams are based on what the students can learn from history rather than the information itself

he’s always dressed super casual!!

solid color, short sleeve button ups are a favorite!! (no tie)

he gets along with all the students

he’ll talk to the athletes about their games but sound just as enthusiastic and genuine talking with students who are majors in fine arts about their projects

he’s just a v down to earth professor tbh!!

he brings in clooney so much

like... every friday

it’s just another bonus of taking his history classes!!

he and penelope are dating

his office is full of sculptures she makes for him 🥺

he drops by her graphic design studio class with clooney to help out or even to just watch

he’s supportive and encouraging of penelope and her art!!

other than the sculptures penelope makes him, his office is a bit more disorganized than jj’s or emily’s, but cleaner than spencer’s

he has a few papers scattered on his desk but mostly he’s a little more put together

his office door has a small basketball hoop attached that he plays around with if he’s bored (and if penelope is busy)

both he and penelope have a dog bed in their office and water bowls for clooney when he comes in

Hotch

law professor

is the most intimidating professor on campus

seriously

if students think professor prentiss is intimidating, they haven’t met professor hotchner

he stands in the front of the room and goes over his lecture without pausing or asking questions

his voice is naturally low and intimidating and he actually never smiles

his attire and appearance is always so professional

suits

ties that are tied so tight, they look like they’re choking him

shoes so polished, he can see his reflection in them

hair always styled neatly

pants and jacket are always wrinkle free

his classes are difficult

not just because of the subject matter, but because he has a very organized, straight forward method to his teaching

students wouldn’t dare act up in his class—they’d be absolute idiots to

he’s quiet and reserved outside the classroom

if the others hear anyone talking shit about hotch behind his back, they’re always quick to come to his defense

they actually know hotch

they know he puts on a hardass exterior, but really he’s just a softie

he always lets them hang in his office with him

he listens to spencer’s ramblings and is extremely patient with him

he has lunch with emily every other day

even if she’s a pain in his ass 99% of the time, he likes that she sticks around and that he can trust her

he shows up to all of penelope’s art shows

and sometimes sits in on derek’s lectures when he has guest speakers

jj brings him pastries from the coffee shop on campus sometimes

he knows that he can come to her if he ever has anything he needs to talk about

(he never opens up to her but he really appreciates the sentiment nonetheless)

penelope has definitely made hotch a few sculptures

(he keeps them at home, but he does have one of her paintings hanging in his office)

speaking of his office it’s hands down the most organized out of all of them

his desk is so clean besides the picture of his son he proudly displays at the corner

he always has his lights off and his door shut

he seems so unapproachable, especially in class

but sometimes his lecture notes have crayon scribbles all over the page

or a small sock will fall out of his briefcase

and maybe, even for a moment, his serious demeanor falls when he spots them

and it almost reassures the students that he is human

Rossi

actually he’s the only one besides maybe reid i can see being a criminology professor

is a retired fbi agent

and successful author

so like that hasn’t changed from canon

but because he doesn’t work for the fbi anymore, he has absolutely no chill and tells all secrets

he’ll be like

talking to his class about a case he worked on in ‘83

and be halfway talking about details of cases that were supposed to be confidential

he’ll pause and go “oops” but keep talking lmaooo

penelope actually never made him a sculpture

instead she made him a coffee mug she made on the wheel and glazed herself!! (she even made her own glaze bc she’s extra like that)

carved on the side is “world’s best italian dad”

(this is because when emily introduced rossi to the group she was like “yeah he’s kinda like my dad” and now everyone calls him “dad”)

(he loves it so much though and proudly accepts his title)

he loves his mug so much and uses it every single day!!!

he’s the only professor besides penelope that let his students refer to him without the title of “professor”

he gives off kind old grandpa vibes

and that he’s only teaching because he really doesn’t have anything better to do during his retirement

but he’s chill and his class is interesting to take

(plus he really does love to teach)

he’ll ramble on and on about his “golden years” as an agent

he will especially talk a student’s ear off if they come up to him and tell him that they read one [or all] of his books

he writes a different quote on his board every single day

his attire is always business casual

he sits on the edge of the desk or on a swivel chair because it’s comfy

he was doing a lecture on jack the ripper and just pushed himself around on the swivel chair, slowly spinning around the front of the room

his voice kept changing in volume every few words because of him facing the wall and then a few moments later facing the classroom

his students refer to him as a “living breathing meme”

he has no idea what the fuck that means

but he take it as a compliment

his office is empty because he goes home after he’s done with classes lmao

he doesn’t do paperwork

or fuck with technology (he never fucking responds to emails smh)

so he has no need for an office

#criminal minds au #penelope garcia #spencer reid #jennifer jereau #emily prentiss #derek morgan #aaron hotch hotchner #david rossi #honestly not much has changed about rossi from canon #but #ye #also #half of these are based on my college experiences lmao #my history professor brought his pair of poodles to class like every other week and it was the only reason i didn’t drop the class #my math professor walked into class one morning and just fucking box jumped up onto a fucking desk for no reason #during dead week my graphic design professor let us watch katy perry music videos for an entire class period it was grear #my gd studio professor was a weird dude but his class was so much fun #i’m still pressed about professors not responding to my emails tbh #professors: email me if you have any concerns or questions #me: (emails profs)#profs: (never respond or even read emails)#fuck right off lmao #long post #emily has a sculpture now pls #college professor au

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