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ambitionsource · 3 years

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AMBITION Season 3 ♫ “Moment of Truth” [ 3.08 ]

CREATED BY Esther (waterstribe) & Maggie (quincywillows) || Official Page || AO3

SHOWDOWN – Adams and Haverford go head-to-head at the senior showdown finals. The A class scrambles when their polished routine is thrown into jeopardy, and Riley takes control. Charlie makes difficult decisions, culminating in a major confession.

72 Minutes (34.5K words) || No content warnings apply.

[ ← Can You Dig It? ] [ S3 Synopsis ] [ Nature of the Beast → ]

( Follow along with the music on Spotify here! )

EXT. AAA - AUDITORIUM - DAY

We launch into the episode, the midseason finale, with focus on Riley’s inspiration board. It not only has the same old stuff from the last couple of seasons but now is updated with new mementos and charming keepsakes -- photos of her and friends (at least one for each bestie), a program from semis and West Side Story, a snapshot of Susan Egan as Belle on Broadway, brochures for NYU and Barnard, plenty of photos of Lucas.

Then we drift down, finding RILEY MATTHEWS settled in the bay window seat beneath it. She’s got her laptop on her lap, hair braided over both shoulders, and gaze focused as she takes a deep breath and then definitively hits her mousepad.

On the laptop screen, the webpage changes, showing a confirmation page on the college common application. Congratulations! Your application has been submitted. When she clicks back to the home page, we see it’s not the only one -- she’s got half a dozen applications officially done and squared away. The only one left hanging is NYU, shooting for the Tisch performing arts program still an uncertain shot.

But otherwise, she’s done. She lets out a pronounced exhale, lifting her head to look at the camera. Not only is her relief palpable, there’s something else shining in her eyes -- excitement. Yes, it’s daunting, but now the future is out there waiting for her.

Optimistic opening tones kick in, setting us truly into motion as Riley pushes her laptop off her lap and jumps to her feet.

Song Cue ♫ ♪ “Love It Or Leave It” as performed by Tess Henley || Performed by Riley Matthews

Riley’s vocals are easy and carefree as she steps into the performance, dancing around her bedroom in victory for finally being free of applications. She spins and stops in front of her whiteboard, crossing the task off her list with a flourish. When she steps away and out of frame, the writing left behind reminds us just what’s at stake this week.

SENIOR SHOWDOWN FINALS!!

It’s all come down to this moment, and all things considered, Riley seems in good spirits. She continues her energetic singing and grabs her backpack, slinging it over her shoulder as she climbs out the bay window…

EXT. NEW YORK STREETS - DAY

And onto the streets of her city, taking her sunshine optimism on the road. She continues through the first chorus as she dances along the walk to school, interspersing her commute with skips, slides, and even a few ballet movements and twirls. She deftly avoids other passersby and sends smiles around selflessly, not letting anything tamper her bright mood.

INT. MINKUS HOME - FARKLE’S BEDROOM - DAY

Not everyone is in quite the same high spirit, however. FARKLE MINKUS finishes submitting his last application, to University of Southern California in Los Angeles. He hovers for a moment before hitting submit, then goes back to his email inbox, where an unread email from his therapist is waiting for him. Just from the preview of the email, we can tell that she’s reaching out to check in with him after what happened last week when he suddenly left their appointment.

Any new diagnosis can be scary, but…

Farkle can’t look at it right now. He closes his laptop, taking a deep, centering breath and trying to get back in the zone. This is the week where he has to have it together. This is not the week to be less than perfect.

Looking for a boost of confidence, he reaches into his closet and pulls out his infamous blazer. If there were ever a moment to channel the old him, now would be the time. He pulls his arms through the sleeves, adjusting it on his shoulders and absorbing its energy.

Then he heads out, holding his chin high.

INT. BABINEAUX HOME - ZAY’S BEDROOM - DAY

ZAY BABINEAUX could probably use some of that confidence too. He’s also looking at his applications. Only one remains unsent -- his one for Turner Academy. As much as he’s dying to go there, with how everything has changed, he can’t bring himself to hit submit.

And this morning won’t be when he does. He runs from it yet again, shutting his laptop.

INT. GARDNER HOME - CHARLIE’S BEDROOM - DAY

CHARLIE GARDNER, on the other hand, has had no trouble submitting his applications. He’s just wrapping up sending in the last one, this one to the prestigious Princeton University. When you look at his full list of submitted apps, they’re all names like that -- Harvard, Yale, Brown, Columbia. Only a couple of others vary in focus, a couple of dance programs peppered in for flavor.

And yet, he seems nonplussed about all of them. In fact, he doesn’t seem to feel much of anything, detached from his college prospects. Like they don’t even belong to him -- and certainly not indicative of anything he wants. Hard to be, when he doesn’t even know what that is for himself.

He clicks back to the home page, glimpsing over his application one more time. One question on the common application seems to be glaring at him.

Tell us who you are.

Charlie glares back. It’s a wonder when the time will come to truly answer it…

INT. AAA - HALLWAY - DAY

Riley takes back control of the narrative, diving into the chorus again with a spring in her step. Some of her other peers feed off her positive energy, like YINDRA AMINO and JEFF MONROE, who dance around her as she passes them in the hall.

She makes her way to the dressing room hall and pushes through the doors…

INT. AAA - AUDITORIUM - DAY

And spins her way into the wings of the auditorium, back in top-tier shape after the debacles last episode. But the true heft of the lyrics don’t land until she sets her sights on something across the stage, that excited glimmer even brighter in her eyes.

LUCAS JAMES FRIAR. Clear to her through the clutter of her other classmates congregating on the stage, as if he’s spotlighted in her eyes. He’s working on discussing something for showdown with ASHER GARCIA and JADE BEAMON, but after a moment he lifts his gaze and locks eyes with her. Naturally, a small smile ghosts over his lips.

Riley bounces back into the rhythm, pulled in his direction like gravity.

Forgive me but I know what, I know what I want!

She weaves her way through others, skillfully dancing her way through the obstacles, only stumbling when she finally makes it to the other side of the stage. She basically collapses into Lucas, who catches her and steadies her upright, keeping her on her feet. Support and pseudo-choreography all at once.

Riley looks over her shoulder to grin at him, then spins so she’s facing him.

Sometimes I get the feeling I just can’t help myself…

She pulls him towards her and back out of the wings, actually managing to drag him along in half a dance for a good chunk of the remaining chorus. It’s no mystery where at least half of her good mood comes from, with the way she’s unable to stop smiling as she sings to him and twirls under his arm.

When she twirls away he lets her go, allowing her to traverse the stage freely for the rest of the number. As she’s finishing her cheerful solo, the rest of the A class makes their way onto the stage around her, all in rehearsal clothes.

Riley finally comes to a stop as the music peters out, finding her place in the dance lines and standing ready to move. The camera rotates around her, showing off the rest of the seniors also ready to roll, then panning to Lucas, Jeff, and Zay standing at the front of the stage with ERIC MATTHEWS, HARPER BURGESS, and MAYA HART.

And it’s Maya who takes over from there. She steps forward, clapping her hands together, and shatters the hopeful vibe with ease.

Maya: Alright, countrymen, get ready to have your ass kicked for the next five days. Showdown is Saturday, and I will be damned and cast to Hell if Haverford Shlep beats us for the seventh bloody year in a row. This is not amateur hour. And with God as my witness -- if you’re into that sort of thing -- we are going full fire and burning this showdown to the ground. [ lifting her bullhorn ] On your marks! And five, six, seven --

Cue title sequence.

INT. AAA - AUDITORIUM - DAY

We’re in the darkness of the wings, though we can still see most of the class doing run-throughs of their setlist and hear Maya clapping and shouting commands in the background. We’re looking through the lens of NICK YOGI’s camera, who has it facing towards himself. He speaks in a whisper, trying not to get targeted by Maya.

Yogi: So, AAA thotties, here’s where we’re at. After a wild semester, senior showdown is finally upon us, and the A class has been in better straits. A shit ton has happened to get us where we are now, so before I continue on with capturing all the magic and whimsy of showdown preparations --

Maya, off-screen: Is that what you call a kick-ball-change, Chey? When we lose on Saturday, I’m blaming it all on your kick-ball-change. Let’s go again!

Yogi: Dave and I thought it might be smart to quickly recap how exactly we ended up in this mess.

INT. AAA - A/V CLUB STUDIO - DAY

Obviously filmed as an earlier segment, the camera now focuses on DAVE WILLIAMS casually seated at the news desk across from wherever Yogi is set up. The footage is far from polished, shot more like a documentary, and it’s not clear whether Dave realizes they’re filming or if he thinks they’re just shooting the shit. He’s not looking at the camera, eyes directed at his best friend off-screen.

Dave: It’s so crazy, man. Like, I feel like it all started when Charlie left Triple A.

Yogi: Oh?

Dave: Yeah, dude. ‘Cause like, who even cared about Haverford before that, you know? Like, they sucked or whatever, but no one really gave a shit. We knew we’d have to face them with showdown, but the moment Charlie jumped ship it’s like it got all personal. Like he defected to the dark side, and so suddenly we had to know the dark side. You know, like that blonde bitch from Camp Rock and Camp Star which didn’t even exist until they needed a rival and suddenly it had all these important characters in it.

Yogi, trying not to laugh: For sure.

Dave: And the thing is like -- I don’t know if we really told him enough when he was like, actually here, but -- Charlie is good. He was one of our best performers, or at least most reliable, and between him and Zay it’s like we had a monopoly on dance. Hotels on that shit. Showdown felt pretty assured, because when you’ve got dudes who can dance like that, I mean, what was anyone even gonna do to top it? But then Charlie transfers, that juice gets drained by half, and the rest of the dominoes fall.

Yogi: Uh huh. Go on.

Dave: And TBH, I feel like that was part of another thing too -- what happened to Zay. Because everyone knows he went like mega-diva earlier this year, and he didn’t used to be like that. I don’t know if anyone else noticed, but I feel like he and Charlie were close? Best friends, really, which makes sense, since they’re like bonded by dance and stuff. And so when Charlie left I feel like that just totally… like knocked him flat, and made him go all haywire, and all that is what led to him going nuts and never taking a break and fucking up his leg.

Yogi: That’s an interesting take. The way you connect the dots amazes me.

Dave, earnest: But like, look dude, I totally get it. It’s like, I think about if you left Triple A all the sudden and just left me behind. I’d be bummed as fuck. Like I wouldn’t even wanna be at this stupid school anymore. I think Zay is way tougher than I’ll ever be.

Yogi: Wow… that was so sweet. [ sniffling theatrically ] I just need a moment --

The tape cuts quickly, still at the same angle, but indicating a lapse in filming.

Yogi: Would you really wanna not stay at Triple A?

Dave: Why would I, if you’re not here to make it fun?

Yogi: What about Lucas?

Dave: Oh yeah… okay, I’d probably stay. But it wouldn’t be the same.

Yogi, amused: That makes more sense.

The tape cuts again, this time Dave having changed positions. He’s sitting slouched in the chair with one of his entire legs propped up on the table in front of him -- i.e., like a weirdo boy who can’t sit normally.

Yogi: So Zay gets fucked up.

Dave: Zay gets hurt, and that’s a major blow. I mean, there’s where we’re at right now, trying to figure out some bizarro way to replace him. But he was a huge part of the original routine, so now we’re like trying to put a band-aid over a bazooka hole. Then all the money stuff added on top of that which totally distracted us for way more time than we can spare. Not being able to be in the auditorium wasn’t good either.

Yogi: Nope.

Dave: Then with Dora’s mom dying, that like knocked her out of the ring. Which is bad, because Dora is like our tiny, terrifying WWE fighter. A little secret weapon. But like, RIP Valerie and all that.

Yogi: Rest easy, queen.

Dave: But we need the win. Lucas needs it to give scholarships to all the destitute future AAA thotties, and I really feel like if we lose, Maya is going to go full Carrie. But with everyone all wigged over college apps and stuff, and the legacy of six years of Ls hanging over us… it’s not looking good, chief. I wouldn’t say that out there for risk of getting shanked by Maya’s stiletto, but a good reporter tells the truth.

Yogi: Right you are. So if you could say one thing to us for later, win or lose, what say you, Dave?

Dave: Well, I’d say “good luck, Charlie,” but as I just said, Charlie is gone. And he’s with the enemy, so I can’t give him any luck.

Yogi: No. How about “good luck, Davie?”

Dave: [ looking miserably at the camera, which zooms in ] Good luck, Davie.

INT. AAA - AUDITORIUM - DAY

Back in the present, Yogi whispers a thanks to his best correspondent, Dave Williams, before throwing attention back to rehearsal.

Yogi: Time to see if we can salvage this L.

For a while, we stay with the camera perspective, Yogi stepping through the rows of his classmates to capture footage. Most of them toss him dirty looks or nearly bump into him, and SARAH CARLSON gives him an especially unimpressed glare when he gets up close to her.

Sarah: Aren’t you supposed to be rehearsing?

Haley, off-screen: Can we not have cameras rolling while we’re trying not to crash and burn this week?

Nate, off-screen: Oh, no, Yogi. Run. Yogi, run --

Yogi whips around, coming lens-to-face with a very haughty Maya. She narrows her eyes.

Yogi: Oh, Neptune…

The camera cuts to black.

Back in our usual frame, Maya snaps the camera shut, pointing for him to get back to his place in formation. He snatches his device back, holding his head high as he marches back to his spot.

Yogi: Just trying to preserve the memories. You all will thank me someday when you want to relive these moments.

Zay: I don’t want to live them now.

Maya snaps for them to run it again, moving back to the front of the stage. She claps them in, running the “Rain On Me” choreography beat-by-beat without vocals. Although the moves are still sharp, it just doesn’t feel as coherent without Zay, since the number was built with him in mind. And something just feels… off. Stale. Like we’ve seen it all before.

And distracted minds don’t help. Even with his blazer, Farkle can’t just magically return to top form, so he’s a couple steps behind. His uneasiness creates a ripple effect, those around him adjusting to avoid his missteps and just making ones of their own, until the whole ensemble is out of sync and lost. Maya growls, ceasing her clapping and holding her hands out to stop.

Maya: Come on, people! This whole thing is falling apart before my very eyes. Do not lose your heads now!

Lucas: Maybe it would help to not have a manic pixie nightmare girl screeching at them.

Maya: [ holding up a finger, not looking at him ] Didn’t ask you. Again, from the top! Five, six --

INT. HAVERFORD PREP - AUDITORIUM - DAY

BRANDON RIVAS is in the same role as Maya, clapping them through the choreography of “Seize the Day.”

Brandon: Seven, eight!

Unfortunately (for Adams), the boys are in much better shape. Their synchronization and energy are as sharp as ever, and they’re even back in full dress to work with the costumes. The only thing putting a dent in their perfect rendition is the fact that it seems they’ve introduced some new choreography here and there, Brandon correcting one or two peers while they perform.

Charlie is keeping up easily, but he admittedly seems put off by the changed details. His brow is furrowed as they run through the last pieces of the sequence, eyeing his classmates as they work to adjust their understanding of the number.

When they finish they hold their pose until Brandon signals for them to be at ease, launching into notes. He reminds them that they should put their vocal focus this week behind the new harmonies they’re learning for the middle piece in their setlist -- they’ve swapped it out for something different for finals.

Charlie fidgets until he works up the nerve to raise his hand, waiting for Brandon to acknowledge him. He does, raising his eyebrows at him, and Charlie clears his throat.

Charlie: Is there a reason we’re changing so much stuff? I thought the original choreo for the dance break in Newsies was fine. The judges liked it during semis.

Billy: Duh, of course you like it, Gardner. It’s your choreography.

The comment is said playfully, but there’s just the slightest of edges to it that BILLY ROSS doesn’t conceal. A few of the other Havies chuckle at this, but Charlie persists, trying not to let himself be deterred.

Charlie: And a whole new song for the middle? What was wrong with “Would You Mind?”

Dweezil: Does something have to be wrong to be improved?

Charlie: No, I’m only wondering --

Brandon: It’s fine, Charles. I get it. [ to the group ] Charles wants to know why we’re putting the effort into changing things around when the routines we’ve established have worked for us so far. Is that right?

Charlie pauses, then nods. Close enough. Brandon returns the nod, keeping cool as he paces in front of the boys.

Brandon: I don’t fault you for that. It’s a natural instinct. Stick to what you know, what you know works. Safer that way. [ a beat ] But safe doesn’t win showdown. We need to stay alert, fresh, open to the possibilities. We’ve been doing it for six years, and I believe we’re going to score a seventh. That means being flexible, assessing opportunities for growth and stretching to reach them.

Nice speech, one that Brandon delivers seamlessly. Charlie accepts it, but something about it is still itching at him. Maybe he really is just intrinsically averse to pushing the envelope…

Brandon: As for why we cut the pop middle, strategic maneuver. I just thought something more… classic might better highlight our strengths. Show the ways we stand out against the competition. That’s all. So, if question time has concluded, let’s get in places for “Brotherhood.”

The Havies move swiftly, shifting positions. Charlie follows suit, taking his place behind Brandon, but his expression is still contemplative as they count into the showstopper.

INT. AAA - GIRLS DRESSING ROOM - DAY

Maya finds ISADORA DE LA CRUZ in the dressing room, marching up to her at the mirrors and cutting right to the point.

Maya: Okay, we are in meltdown mode out there, so the time has come. Izzy, you need to square up and join rank. It’s time to get back out there.

For what it’s worth, Isadora doesn’t seem surprised. She’s known this was coming for a while now, Maya’s ability to leave her be cracking every day.

Isadora: It’s not that I haven’t thought about it.

Maya: Perfect. There you go then. It’s a sign. So get your jazz shoes on and let’s go.

Isadora: But I’m not at the same level as you all. Maybe I was getting there with the singing last year, but I’m way out of practice now, and I was never there with my dancing. We’re trying to win, and I’ll be lucky if I can get on stage without passing out.

Maya: Please, if Garcia can do it when he’s prone to collapse like an anemic Weeble Wobble, you’ll be fine.

Isadora: But we don’t know that. There’s no guarantee. Even if I want to help, is it really worth risking me fucking it all up? Just for a little extra oomph from someone who is average at best?

Maya snaps, shaking her head and gripping Isadora’s shoulders. Isadora flinches slightly, but she’s used to Maya at this point, so she can get away with the aggressive touch in a time of great consequence. Maya insists that Isadora is way too in her own head -- she was fantastic before, and she will be fantastic now. Talent doesn’t just disappear.

Maya: You have royal blood running through those veins of yours. Bona fide, liquified star power, the real deal. I know it hurts that your mom isn’t here to foster that -- believe me, I know how it feels -- but you’re still here. You are her legacy, and this is your birthright. So it’s time to claim it!

Song Cue ♫ ♪ “Born For This” as performed by Paramore || Performed by Maya Hart & Isadora De La Cruz

Maya launches into the rambunctious early Paramore hit, appealing to Isadora in a language both of them know -- angry, empowering, female-led punk rock. It’s the artist that first bonded them, after all, so it’s the best she can offer in a last pitch to get her to come around. As she sings through the first verse she climbs up onto the countertop, strutting along it and hitting strong poses, before leaping back down in front of Isadora.

As she hits the pre-chorus, she leans in close to Isadora, challenging her with her body language to fight back or take the risk to meet her at her level. Then she takes her hand, leading her out of the dressing room --

INT. AAA - HALLWAY - DAY

And into the halls for the chorus, Maya jumping and head-banging as she goes. Isadora jogs to keep up, taking over on the second verse as other AAA students begin to join in as the echo. Maya leads them, matching her movements in response to Isadora’s sing-shouting. Then they all create a rocking crowd formation for the chorus again, similar to when the techies took the halls with “Thnks Fr Th Mmrs,” sharply bouncing and dancing their way to the intense music and following the lead of Isadora and Maya, standing side by side at the front of the pack.

INT. AAA - CAFETERIA - DAY

Then the mob descends on the cafeteria, finding most of the remaining Adams students. Maya and Isadora take over the lunch room, rallying students at their tables and heightening the energy across the board.

Maya hops up onto a table and pulls Isadora with her, gathering the students around them. This is where they lead the “We! Were! Born For This!” chant, getting the others to echo their declarations. When they escalate up to the belt at the end of the bridge, they stand back to back, Maya leaning her head back theatrically and shouting the note to the ceiling.

Everybody sing!

The cafeteria has become a full-on rock concert, other students jumping onto the tables and getting into the spirit. Maya has a knack for turning lunch time into a spectacle, and this is no exception. The school rock-and-rolls their way to the end, where they all break into hollers and cheers. Maya turns to face Isadora again where they’re standing on the center table, quirking an eyebrow. Well?

Isadora catches her breath… then grins, clasping her hand with Maya’s. Officially on board.

INT. AAA - GIRLS DRESSING ROOM - DAY

Back in the dressing room and now part of the team officially, Isadora seeks out CHAI FRESCO. She strikes up conversation as Chai is arranging their semis costumes on the rack, asking if she has a second. Since she’s now joining the performance, Isadora knows she needs to brush up on her dancing. And well, it’s a lot to learn in a short amount of time…

Isadora: Though it kills me to admit it, I know I’m going to need help. I was wondering if you would be willing to stay later with me each day and run through it until I get it down.

Chai: Really? You want me?

Isadora: Honestly, my first thought was Maya, but you’ve seen how she is lately. She is so stressed out over this, I know she won’t have time, and I think she might actually murder me for slow uptake. But her aside… you are the best dancer we have in the A class. Maya would also kill me for saying that.

Chai, touched: … well, thanks. Most people don’t really notice.

Isadora: Not everyone.

Yes, clearly not everyone… either way, Chai is flattered. She agrees to tutor Isadora, assuring her that no matter the choreo, they’ll get her up to snuff in no time. Nothing to freak out over.

INT. AAA - BOYS DRESSING ROOM - DAY

Farkle’s blazer has been discarded on the floor, bold callback abandoned. Farkle has folded himself into a protective position on the countertop, avoiding the mirror next to him as he tries to calm down from what feels like an impending panic attack. His hands are shaking as he pulls his sweater over his head, down to just his plain tee but still feeling hot.

Riley pokes her head in, commenting that she finally found him. She’s been looking for him before they go do another run-through… then she notices his shaky state, immediately shifting from friendly to concerned. She rushes over to him, asking what’s going on and if he’s okay.

Farkle: I tried. I really tried, Riley, I tried to just work through it --

Riley: What? Work through what?

Farkle: But I can’t. I’m just -- I’m not myself. I don’t even know what myself is right now.

When she prods him once again, he cracks and spills everything about what happened with his therapist. About his new diagnosis, about being bipolar. He knows it doesn’t actually mean anything, or maybe it actually means clarity, but right now it just feels like too much. So much he doesn’t understand, like having to relearn a whole new identity. Riley does her best to keep up, frowning as Farkle grows flushed and chokes up.

Riley: It’s okay, Farkle. You’re not… I mean, millions of people are bipolar, and they get through it. They figure it out. You’ll figure it out, too, especially since you’ve got top-rate care and the best people to help.

Farkle: I know. [ huffing and wiping his eyes ] I know, it’s silly for me to be freaked. I know it doesn’t really change me, it’s just a label for what I already am. But it just feels like… I don’t know. [ voice cracking ] Like I’m even more to deal with than I was before.

Riley doesn’t know what to say -- she’s not a therapist -- so all she can do is offer comfort. She steps closer and wraps him in a hug, Farkle returning the embrace tightly. They just hold each other for a few moments.

Riley: Farkle, you have always been unique. Uniquely a challenge, but uniquely wonderful, too. Both are some of my favorite things about you. And more than that, you are damningly resilient. [ pulling back to look at him ] You will rise above this too. And it’s not like you have to do it alone, you know that we’re going to have your back every step of the journey.

Farkle: Yeah… yeah, you’re right. Thanks.

He leans forward for another quick hug, which she happily gives him. When they break apart again, Farkle releases a heavy exhale.

Farkle: But Riley, with all this going on… I don’t think I can do it. Showdown. I don’t want to drop out of the performance, but I can’t carry it the way I did for semis. I want to, and I know Maya is going to lose her shit if I don’t, but I just don’t think I can handle it right now.

He’s right about one thing -- Maya is going to flip. Right after she collects one advantage, another domino falls… but Riley understands. Of course she does. She pats his shoulder, giving him the bravest smile she can muster.

Riley: It’s fine. We’ll still have your star power in our ranks, and we’ll find a way to rearrange. You need to do what’s best for you.

Farkle: Yeah. Yeah, I hope.

Riley: Everything is going to be fine. Don’t worry.

INT. AAA - TECHNICIAN’S BOOTH - DAY

Riley reports directly to Lucas and DYLAN ORLANDO, soothing smiles long gone.

Riley: It’s time to worry.

She relays to them that Farkle is stepping down without divulging the details, keeping it simple by explaining he’s not doing well at the moment. It’s lucky that they’ll still have him in the ensemble, but this is just another body blow that she’s not sure their team can take.

Riley: With Farkle off the table, our routine is basically on life support. That’s two out of three of the main vocalists on “4 Minutes” out, and “Rain On Me” isn’t doing so hot either. We can move Nigel up to take Farkle’s role -- which we should, he’s severely underutilized at present -- but even then we’re still lacking major male stage presence.

Lucas: Not great considering Haverford is all testosterone.

Dylan: When you say it like that, it sounds so awful. All testosterone… I can’t believe that’s something our society idolizes.

Lucas: You’re gay.

Dylan: And? I like men, not hormones. It’s not like when I kiss Asher I’m thinking about his sexy cortisol levels.

Riley gets them back on track, reiterating the problem. With their arrangement the way it is right now -- head count and track list -- they’re royally fucked. Dylan and Lucas concur, agreeing that they’re going to need to find some additional male star power to fill the gaps Farkle is leaving behind.

Now where are they going to find that… Dylan glances around them, as if something is missing, and arrives at the obvious answer at the same time as Riley and Lucas. They all exchange a look, tacitly acknowledging exactly who their saving grace should be.

INT. AAA - PROP LOFT - DAY

Convincing that saving grace, well, that’s another story.

Asher: No.

Asher turns away from Lucas and Dylan, both having just pitched the idea to him. He continues to shake his head adamantly even as they scramble to appeal to his better angels, avoiding eye contact by aimlessly shifting around props on the shelves.

Lucas: We’re running out of options --

Dylan: You’re the best damn performer in this school --

Lucas: We’re literally running on empty right now --

Dylan: No, the best performer in the whole state --

Lucas: This whole thing is about to go spectacularly to shit, and you’re really going to sit there and do nothing?

Asher: [ holding up a finger ] Don’t guilt trip me.

Lucas: Well what else am I supposed to do, Asher, when we’re standing on the precipice of total annihilation and you won’t even consider stepping in to save us? When we lose and my political agenda to improve the status and future of Adams itself goes down the tubes, there will be no one left to blame but the secretary who didn’t show up.

Asher: You are so dramatic. Hell, you go up there and take the spot. You can at least match Farkle for theatrics.

Dylan: Come on, Ash! You learn fast, and everyone knows you’ve got talent. You performed during comfort zone week.

Asher: Yes, specifically because it was outside my comfort zone. Hence, the assignment being referred to as “comfort zone week.” And there were consequences if I didn’t. There were grades involved. There was pressure.

Lucas: There’s pressure now. Me. I’m pressuring you to do it.

Dylan: And also last week. Remember “Boogie Shoes?” It was fun!

Asher: A performance for convenience’s sake. Very low stakes. And I was doing it with you. That’s different.

Lucas: So why can’t you do it again now, for convenience’s sake, when the team needs you? Can’t you just, I don’t know, go feral for a week and unleash it all and then we’ll all move on? Just do it, spaghetti!

Asher scowls and narrows his eyes, pointedly dropping the prop he was moving back on the shelf. He whips around to face them again as he responds, escalating in pitch as the words tumble out.

Asher: How many times do I have to tell you that I HAVE ANXIETY!!

Well, Lucas wanted feral Asher, and boy does he get him. Lucas and Dylan both go quiet as Asher spirals into a deliciously lively spiel about how anxiety works, and no he cannot just turn it off for “convenience sake,” and you Lucas James Friar really have no conception of how other people’s feelings work, not to mention the fact that even if he did think he could keep up with the performers for this it will be in front of a huge audience, which is a big fat automatic no. It’s not that he doesn’t want to help, or be a team player, of course he does, all he ever does is try to be a team player, that’s like his whole life playbook, but sometimes they all ask just a little too much of him! Sometimes he has to put his foot down and say no! Although it’s quite an impressive monologue, the whole thing kind of has a ridiculous comedic hue to it.

Asher: So no, I am not brain dead enough to act like I’m good enough to step into the showdown setlist. I would pass out the moment I hit the stage, and I think if I have to learn all that in five days I’ll break out in hives, and if I have to work with Maya Hart I swear to God I will pitch myself off the catwalk. So read my lips. No. No! Nay! Negatory!

Dylan, under his breath: Thesaurus bonus.

Asher: I will absolutely not perform in that sinking ship that is showdown. And there is nothing -- nada! -- you could possibly do or say that will make me change my mind.

Asher exhales a huff, raising his eyebrows and daring them to challenge him on it. Lucas and Dylan blink, exchanging a look out of the corner of their eyes. Then they glance back to Asher, perhaps at a stalemate…

Then Dylan smiles.

INT. AAA - AUDITORIUM - DAY

Song Cue ♫ ♪ “4 Minutes” as performed by Glee Cast || Instrumental

The horns blare, signaling that we’re on a roll again -- and Asher is in Farkle’s spot. He spins around to reveal him amidst the performers, looking overwhelmed and reluctant, but doing his best to keep up with the new choreography as Maya continues to clap out the beat.

So much for no way, Jose! In the wings, Lucas and Dylan watch smugly, victorious. Lucas shakes his head at the ridiculousness of the whole thing.

Lucas: And he calls me dramatic. What sort of threat did you have to throw at him to get him to cave?

Dylan: [ with a sly smile ] Who said anything about a threat…

They exchange another side glance, Dylan’s smile widening. He wiggles his eyebrows suggestively, and Lucas rolls his eyes.

But while Isadora and Asher fill out much needed lapses in captivating stage presence, “4 Minutes” is a disaster with them in the ensemble -- let alone trying to fill the shoes of such different performers. It just doesn’t work for this new combination of people, and it doesn’t take long for Maya to shut it down and declare the run-through a failure.

Maya: Though who is surprised, considering the no-meat chicken legs we’ve subbed in for Farkle.

Dylan: Oh boy.

Asher: I’m sorry, Maya, did you see anyone else chomping at the bit to join this trainwreck. No? I wonder why… maybe because they didn’t want to be yelled at by Tyrant Barbie.

Maya: Deflect all you want, Garcia. It’s not my fault your chicken legs can’t keep up.

Asher: Oh, say that again. I dare you. Say it again.

Maya: [ into her bullhorn ] Cluck. Cluck.

Asher: Okay, that’s it --

Tensions are already high, and Asher and Maya are the perfect gasoline to set it all on fire. Dylan and Lucas dart out of the wings just as Riley and Isadora dart between Maya and Asher, nudging them towards opposite sides of the stage. Asher tries to leap for Maya but Dylan grabs him by the torso and yanks him backwards, facing him away from her.

The rest of the class has broken into chaos with them, but Riley shouts to restore order. She points out that losing their heads isn’t going to do them any favors. They need to keep their cool if they want any chance of getting through this week -- and that means everyone.

Zay: Take her bullhorn away, I think that’s a good first step.

Crisis temporarily averted, Riley jumps into team brainstorming. Clearly, something isn’t clicking. Her brain is working a mile a minute, trying to land on what the problem might be.

Haley: Maybe we just need more people? There’s strength in numbers.

Darby: Haverford has at least 25 boys competing from their senior class. We’re not even matching that.

Yindra: A good performance doesn’t need quantity. It takes quality.

Missy: Which is clearly out of stock in this auditorium.

Nate: Well maybe if we had more quantity, we’d collectively get more quality.

Considering the stakes and tension, Yindra takes NATE MARTINEZ’s snippy tone as a dig, and the two of them start to bicker. Riley cuts it off preemptively, Nate retreating over to Jeff and Jade. Dylan jumps in, trying to help.

Dylan: If we need more people, I can tag in.

Maya: For the love of God…

Dylan: I don’t learn as fast as Ash, but I can pick up enough to get by.

Lucas: Help round out the male presence too.

Riley: Yeah. Yeah, that’s great Dylan, thanks.

A potential solution for now. Maya tells everyone to take five and then they’ll regroup to run it again one more time before they wrap for the afternoon -- and Dylan should start getting tips from others in the meantime if he’s gonna catch up.

But Riley stays put while the others disperse. Her brow is still crinkled, lost in thought. It’s great that they’ve got another talented person bolstering their performance, but something about it still doesn’t feel right.

And though she dreads to think it, she wonders if the issue runs much deeper than manpower.

INT. AAA - DRESSING ROOM HALL - DAY

Isadora catches up to a grumpy and frazzled Maya, pulling her aside and advising her to take a deep, cleansing breath. Maya waves off the impact of such a silly gesture outright, yet she complies anyway and takes a long, theatrical breath.

Once she’s done, Isadora continues.

Isadora: After rehearsal, I want you to come with me. I think I have something that’ll make you feel better.

Maya: Oh, do you? Bold claim, Izzy. Don’t tease me. You’d need a miracle to relieve the tension knots I’ve got in my starlet shoulders right now.

Isadora: And I’ve got just that. This will be good, whether we win showdown or not.

Isadora raises her eyebrows, playfully challenging her not to agree, then saunters off with a knowing smirk. Seems like a high bar, but Maya is intrigued nonetheless.

INT. HAVERFORD PREP - SENIOR LOUNGE - DAY

We hear the familiar track of the A class’s rendition of “Rain On Me,” but it’s filtered through tinny laptop speakers rather than being appreciated in its full glory.

That’s because a bunch of the Haverford boys are watching a recording of their semi-finals performance on DWEEZIL HOWARD’s laptop. Professional-grade filming, all right there for them to see. Brandon’s flash drive is plugged into the computer. The Havies laugh and talk amongst themselves as they watch the performance, both making fun of it and making note of all the ways Adams might be a threat at the same time.

Evan: Babineaux is a really good dancer.

Havie: Yeah, thankfully he took care of himself so that we didn’t have to.

A couple others snort, high-fiving. Charlie enters the student lounge, pausing when he hears the unfamiliar content his classmates are watching. He frowns slightly, listening closely. Curiously, it actually sounds strangely familiar… like… but no, it couldn’t be…

Then he hears a baritone he would recognize anywhere -- Zay on his brief vocal solo -- and he knows his instincts are right. It is the A class, the medley of his former peers’ voices undeniable once he confirms it.

He makes his way over, trying his best to be cool and casual as he joins them. Most of the boys greet him cheerfully, though Dweezil’s smile fades and he tenses up when he realizes Charlie has joined them. It seems like he wants to turn the screen away, but it’s too late.

Charlie: [ feigning ignorance ] What’s everyone looking at?

Havie: Check it -- Brandon got his hands on the Adams showcase.

Charlie takes the invitation, stepping closer and looking over his classmates to see for himself. There they are, right in front of his eyes -- the A class, doing their full routine at semi-finals. Someone makes a snide comment about one of Maya’s vocal runs and the group chuckles, Charlie awkwardly laughing along.

Charlie, innocently: Isn’t that against the rules?

Havie 2: Only if you get caught.

Havie, smugly: Considering we’ve done this for the last six years, I don’t think the showdown rules committee is especially strict.

The last six years? That certainly explains Haverford’s damning winning streak… and Brandon’s sudden desire to change up their setlist. He’s making tweaks based on AAA’s performance, finding ways to heighten their strengths and set them even further apart from the competition. Charlie swallows, trying to process everything without giving away his panic, but Dweezil is watching him like a hawk.

EVAN SCOTT notices too, eyeing him with concern.

Evan: You okay, Charlie?

Charlie hesitates, unsure what to say. He knows it matters. Tell us who you are. Tell us who you are. Tell us who you are…

Then he relaxes, managing an easy smile. Stepping into that same charm he flexes at church, disarming everyone and negating any need to give him a second thought.

Charlie: I was just thinking my former classmates were going to bring tougher competition. [ nodding to the video ] Obviously, I was wrong.

The boys laugh, nodding and hooting in agreement. A couple of them pat Charlie on the arm, and he flashes the Prince Charming smile. But once attention goes back to the Adams tape, the veneer dims.

INT. APARTMENT BUILDING - ELEVATOR - DAY

Maya eyes Isadora with suspicion as the two girls travel up in an elevator. Isadora has refused to explain what’s going on, but has an uncontrollable smile on her face.

Maya: If you’re bringing me here to show me a new luxe pad you and Eric are getting, it will not make me feel better, I hope you realize.

Isadora laughs, but says nothing. The elevator dings as the doors slide open.

INT. APARTMENT BUILDING - HALLWAY - DAY

Isadora leads Maya to the door for apartment 803 and stops in front of it, her excitement palpable. Maya raises her eyebrows and looks at Isadora expectantly.

Isadora: Open it.

Maya: I really don’t have time for this, Izzy. Your dance skills are severely lacking, remember, and this is starting to feel like a way to avoid practice.

Isadora: [ with an eye roll ] Just go in. Trust me.

Maya sighs, but obliges.

INT. APARTMENT 803 - DAY

Behind the door is a cozy apartment with large windows looking out to the city. There isn’t much furniture, only the essentials such as a couch and kitchen table, along with cardboard boxes dotted around. With her back to Isadora and Maya, a blonde woman crouches to dig through one of the boxes.

Maya looks around as they enter, impressed but confused. Upon hearing their entrance, the woman hurriedly stands up and turns to them. It’s KATY HART, who grins when she sees her daughter.

When Maya notices her mother, her jaw drops. She stands frozen for a moment while Katy rushes over and embraces her. It takes a moment for her brain to catch up, but when it does, Maya hugs her back just as tightly, squealing with joy.

When they pull apart, both their faces are streaked with tears. Katy holds Maya’s head in her hands and brushes hair away from her face.

Maya: I missed you so much.

Katy: It’s so good to see you, baby girl.

Maya: I don’t… why are you here? How are you here? What even is here?

Katy looks over at Isadora. When Maya spins around to follow Katy’s gaze, realization hits her. She looks around the apartment again, this time in awe.

Maya: Is this… for us?

Isadora: My mom made a lot of promises that she didn’t end up keeping. Moving Katy back to New York to be with you was one of the biggest. It didn’t feel fair for that to fall apart because of her death. I’ll foot the rent bill until you’re all settled and find new work and help with the decorating.

Katy: You’re such an angel, Isadora. I can never thank you enough for this.

Isadora waves Katy off, a blush rising to her cheeks. A fresh wave of tears hits Maya and she pulls Isadora in for a hug.

Maya: You’re the best. The absolute best. I love you, thank you.

Isadora, lightly: You’ll pay me back when you’re rich and famous, anyway.

While Maya takes off to inspect every detail of the space and begin designing her dream apartment in her head, Katy stays with Isadora. She gives her a warm smile.

Katy: You’re growing up into such a fine young woman. I’m sure Valerie would’ve been so proud.

Isadora, quietly: Thank you.

Katy: Eric is wonderful, but know that I’m here if you ever need a mom to talk to, okay?

Katy gives Isadora a small pat on the shoulder, then heads over to where Maya is taking pictures of the space. Maya grins up at her mother and hugs her again.

Maya: I need to make sure you’re really here and not a figment of my imagination. The power of my creativity has been astounding me lately. Remember what I told you about the dentist? Well, I had a revelation…

Isadora watches on with a bittersweet smile. Not a bad first impact to make with what Valerie left behind.

INT. CHUBBIES - DAY

Lucas is at his usual spot behind the counter, but work is slow and his mood is even more dejected than normal. Riley is in the same low spirit, chin propped on her hand as she sits opposite him on a stool, both of them talking about Adams’ increasingly poor chances at finals. At this point, with the way they’re hobbling through it, it’ll be a miracle if they aren’t booed off the stage.

Lucas: It’s fine. I wouldn’t be the first president to make promises they didn’t keep -- nor the last, I’m sure.

Riley: I just… I feel like we’re stuck. [ sitting up straighter ] It’s like, we’re not short on star power or talent. We’re not short on effort. We all want this victory, maybe for different reasons, but there is a unified cause. That’s not always the case with our class.

Lucas: You’re cute. It’s never the case.

Riley: My point is that we have all the elements, all the right pieces, but I feel like we’re trying to put them together to create a tableaux that doesn’t… exist anymore. Like sure, the routine got us through semis, but it was a different time and a different team. By sticking so tightly to this predetermined vision of how things were supposed to go, I think we’re shooting ourselves in the foot. Like shoving a round block into a square hole -- it just doesn’t fit.

Maybe so, but what’s the alternative? Start over from scratch, with a week to go? Riley admits that it seems daunting…

Riley: But I don’t know. At this point, what do we have to lose? There’s so much talent that we’re not highlighting in this set, so much unique charm in our class. And I think if we have any chance of beating Haverford, it’s going to be because of all those things that set us apart. We’ve pulled off greater feats before, I think we could do it if we all really committed to it. [ with a sigh ] But I know that’s not going to happen. No one wants to risk changing it up.

Understandably so, but it’s clear it’s weighing on her. She presses her palms to her eyes, releasing another sigh. Lucas frowns, obviously wishing there was more he could do to fix it -- he doesn’t even have the words to comfort her since he’s no good with them. But he offers an attempt, speaking softly.

Lucas: Look, you know I’m the last person you should go to for performing advice, so I can’t exactly comment on whether the setlist would be better off scrapped. I mean, I know it’s a fucking trainwreck right now --

Riley: I think that’s clear to even the most presentationally challenged.

Lucas: But what I do know is that I trust you. If your gut is telling you that something about this isn’t right, then I believe it. Your instincts are almost as sharp as mine --

Riley: Almost?

Lucas: In performing, you outrank me. Everything else, up for debate. [ off her nose crinkle ] Bottom line, you know what you’re talking about. And when you talk, people listen. If you feel like doing this might save our chances, wild as it might be, then you should tell the others. And whatever you choose to do, I’m marching right behind you.

Wow… well, with that shining seal of approval… Riley holds his gaze, contemplating his words. Then she manages a tired smile, taking his hands and pressing a quick kiss to his knuckles.

The brief slice of serenity is interrupted when Charlie pushes through the door, spotting Riley at the counter. He rushes over and tosses half a greeting towards Lucas, restless and out of breath, then turns to Riley.

Charlie: I need to talk to you.

Riley: Well, good thing we’re having lunch then. [ hopping off the stool ] Do you want to like order anything first --

Charlie, desperate: No, Riley, I -- it can’t wait. It’s important.

Riley clocks his nerves, losing her friendly ease. She takes his arm and leads him quickly to a booth.

Riley: What’s wrong? Is everything okay with your family? Rosie, or Bridgette --

Charlie: No, no, they’re fine. It’s not about that. It’s about showdown.

Riley: Showdown? [ uncertain ] Charlie, I don’t know if we should be discussing…

Charlie: Not like what Haverford is doing. I mean, sort of -- [ hitting his palm against his forehead in agitation ] shit.

Riley: Charlie, you’re worrying me. What’s going on?

Charlie screws his eyes shut, inhaling a breath and holding it. When he opens his eyes, he meets her gaze, and that’s the moment where it’s all or nothing. Dangerous consequences in either direction, the fear of action paralyzing him, but that same question rattling in his skull.

Tell us who you are.

Charlie exhales, eye contact steady as he steels himself.

Charlie: There’s something you need to know.

Riley stares at him, eyes wide, bracing for the unknown.

INT. AAA - AUDITORIUM - DAY

The A class is assembled on the stage, forming a semblance of a circle around Riley. She’s holding court, reluctantly delivering the bad news.

Riley: Haverford knows our setlist.

The reaction is instantaneous. There’s a mix of gasp and curses, and only seconds before nervous and indignant chatter breaks out. What? How? You’re kidding.

Isadora: How is that even possible?

Riley: As far as I know, they got their hands on a recording of our performance at semis from an outside source.

Zay: So they didn’t risk getting caught recording themselves.

Chai: Lord knows they could afford it.

Riley: They’ve been using it to alter their routine. They’ve already changed a lot of stuff to contrast ours.

Lucas: And apparently they’ve been doing this for a while. [ pointedly ] Like six years.

Nate: Those bitches.

Dave: So many people begging to get egged these days.

Asher: So we should report them. If we file a complaint, the sponsors will investigate and they’ll no doubt find the footage on them. Karma.

Riley: No, we can’t. It’s probably too late for them to do a thorough investigation anyway, and I don’t want this to blowback on Charlie. He risked a lot telling me about it, I’m not going to risk throwing him under the bus if they find out we know.

Nigel: Or worse, if they think he snitched himself.

Riley: I mean, imagine if one of us went and told Haverford information we wanted to keep secret. What would you do to them?

Maya: Itching powder in their stage make-up and a full-throttle psychological assault until they’re so worn down they drop out and transfer to Quincy High to be a humdrum accountant for the rest of their days. [ a beat ] Oh, I see. You meant that rhetorically.

Long story short, no going to the disciplinary committee. It wouldn’t do much, anyway, seeing as the only technical proof they have is word of mouth. This grim reality settles over them, Yindra declaring what everyone is thinking.

Yindra: Well, it’s over. Nice run, gals and gays.

Maybe so… the energy in the room plummets, the feeble hope keeping them moving dissolving with their prospects of a showdown victory. Zay grits his teeth, crumbling the edges of his choreography sheets. Maya delicately places her bullhorn at her feet, walking away from it and turning from the group to hide her emotion. Dylan rests his chin on Asher’s shoulder; Isadora reaches for Farkle’s hand and squeezes, keeping her eyes glued to the floor.

Riley looks around at all her classmates, empathizing with their defeat… until her gaze lands on Lucas. He’s already looking at her, watching her expectantly. He dips his head in half a nod, subtly emphasizing his earlier encouragement. It might feel hopeless, but if there were any time to suggest the impossible… and where she leads, he will follow…

Riley squares her shoulders, keeping her eyes locked on his, and finds her voice.

Riley: Maybe it’s not over just yet.

She certainly captures everyone’s attention. Heads perk up and eyebrows raise as Riley steps center stage, appealing to all of them that the fight isn’t over until the results are read Saturday.

Sarah: Come on, Matthews. You can’t be serious.

Nate: Yeah, I mean, I love the sunshine bit as much as the next baddie, but how are you going to spin this?

Riley: Am I wrong? This thing isn’t done until a victor is declared -- or we decide it’s over. And I don’t know about you all, but I’m not looking to just hand over a win to the Havies, especially one they really don’t deserve.

Maya: … okay, I’m listening. Make your pitch, Riles, and make it a good one.

And she does, ardently. The way she sees it, their chances aren’t dead. They just have to reinvent themselves. Rearrange, reorganize, find a better way of showcasing who they are and what they’re about. They did it last year -- in circumstances much harder than these -- and came out stronger for it. They’re a team now, and if they could survive all of that, they can rise above this. They just have to do exactly that: showcase who they are.

Riley: Haverford thinks that to win, they need to know what we’re up to ahead of time -- which means they’re scared -- and prove all the ways they aren’t us. Well, I say we hit them back right where it hurts and show just how much they can’t match our stride.

Nigel: With what, a whole new routine?

Darby: You’re kidding. In a week?

Riley: Every week we come up with dozens of performances! That’s what we spend every single day in this school doing. And with all of us working together? Yeah, I think we could pull something off.

Clarissa: Something the Havies have no way of cheating to beat...

Exactly! Now we’re feeling the spirit! The energy is tentative, just starting to bubble up again amidst them all, hope peeking back out through the darkness to shed some light. Riley feeds off it, growing more impassioned.

Riley: And this time, we need to focus on all of the things that make us stand out. That make us different, better, special. What are some of the things we have that Haverford doesn’t?

Farkle, flatly: … women?

He’s somewhat joking, but Riley rolls with it. She taps her nose in agreement, a signal to keep the ball rolling. The wheels are turning now…

Yindra: Individuality. You don’t see us walking around in some pretentious ass uniforms.

Nigel: And the best costumer in the state in our ranks.

[ All eyes turn to Jade, who flushes. She bashfully pushes some hair behind her ear from her spot beside NIGEL CHEY, but then straightens up in an attempt to match the confidence. ]

Jade: A costumer who did just submit all her applications and now has free time to make something new…

The thought process keeps moving from there. Personality. Some of the best young talent in the city. Skilled technicians.

Riley: We have one of the best student technician programs in the country here, and yet there’s never a focus on that at showdown. But we can change that. Jade can make costumes that are unforgettable. We can play with movement, set pieces, production details that’ll put it over the top. These are the kind of things we should be showcasing, the things we’re so lucky to have in this class that the Haverford boys will never get.

For what it’s worth, it seems like everyone is coming around. The spark is back, and even if it’s a futile mission, might as well go out with a bang rather than fizzle to nothing before the fire truly gets going.

As if to cement the mission, Maya makes a statement of her own. She scoops her bullhorn off the floor and marches to center stage… then hands it over to Riley. A symbolic passing of the torch for a new game plan. She gives her a smirk, only the slightest bit reluctant to relinquish control.

Maya: Bang bang.

Yes, Riley Matthews has let her firecracker side take control. She returns Maya’s smile, choosing not to use the bullhorn but launching into planning mode regardless. She turns to Zay first, asking if he’d still be willing to sketch out new choreography for them on such short notice and although he can’t run through it himself.

Riley: We should have never boxed you out of the vision. You’re the best dancer there is, and that doesn’t change just because you can’t do it yourself at the moment. [ a beat ] Do you think you can do it?

Zay: … [ as if it’s a difficult decision ] It won’t be anywhere near as good as it would be with more time and actual mobility, but I’m sure I can throw something together.

The corners of his mouth lift just slightly, signaling to Riley what she wants to hear. Apology accepted. She nods, grateful for more than one thing.

Nate: You should get Jeff to help. He’s a killer break dancer.

Zay: That’s true. If we’re talking about underutilized assets, that’s a big one. You can probably fill some of the gaps left behind by me with some skillful showing off. Even just some basic party trick break dancing will wow a standard audience. [ to Jeff ] What do you say?

Jeff: As long as I can map out the lighting design and pass it off to Lucas, then I say hells yeah.

Sick! Jeff jogs over to Zay and exchanges a fist bump handshake with him, Riley grinning at both of them. She then turns to Farkle.

Riley: I know you’ve got a lot on your plate right now.

Isadora raises her eyebrows at this. News to her, though she definitely clocked his uneven mood as of late… Farkle listens attentively, waiting for Riley’s request.

Riley: But you’re the most creative person I know when it comes to innovating music, at least from a spectacle standpoint. [ re: Clarissa ] And we’ve got an amazing concert musician in our midst who knows a thing or two about composition. Between you, Clarissa, and Nate’s mixing skills, I think you might be able to mash together a showstopper not easily forgotten.

Farkle: Give me the tone you’re going for, and I’ll see what this basket case can deliver.

Okay, now we’re cooking with fire! Riley turns to Jade, but she’s already moving, passing by her with Asher, Nigel, and Haley in tow en route to the costume loft.

Jade: Already on it. Let me know the setlist when it’s mapped out.

Having spun basically all the way around, Riley is back to Lucas. She meets his eyes, the two of them holding eye contact for a long moment. The rest of the techies and remaining A class yet to be assigned a task stand at attention, waiting for marching orders… but he’s looking to her. The hint of a flirtatious challenge laced in his expression, daring her to tell him what to do.

And she does, though she can’t help the teasing smirk that ghosts over her features.

Riley: If we’re going to pull this off, it’s going to be all hands on deck. The techies might have to work double time to pull together what we need, but it’ll be worth it to show off how fantastic we really are. And you can put the performers to work too when we’re not rehearsing… if you think you can do it.

Challenge laid down... as if there was ever any doubt he would accept it. But Lucas plays along, unable to hold back the slight quirk in his lips that mirrors her own. He doesn’t break eye contact with her, but declares to the assembled group:

Lucas: You heard her.

That they did, Lucas. Loud and clear! Riley continues to smile at him as the A class erupts into a flurry of movement around her, back to work and more energized than ever before. The engine of Motown swing rumbles to life, underscoring the new endeavor…

INT. AAA - BLACK BOX THEATER - DAY

Song Cue ♫ ♪ “Get Ready / Dancing In The Street” as performed by Motown The Musical Original Broadway Cast Recording || Performed by AAA Seniors

The performance carries through the ensuing montage of the A class hustling to put together a brand new routine, firing on all cylinders to bring it together. To kick us off, Riley starts in the black box classroom with Zay, Yindra, Maya, and Isadora, deliberating on the white board about what songs or series of songs should populate their new list. There’s a lot of key words scattered across the board -- individuality, range, the power of women -- but it seems they’ve already narrowed it down to their chosen concept.

Riley finishes up jotting down all the ideas on a piece of paper, the others leaning over to snap photos and send them out to people in the class. Sarah rushes in and takes the original paper from Riley, saluting as she takes off again into the hallway with it. The moment she’s out there door of one room --

INT. AAA - PRACTICE ROOM - DAY

She’s dashing into the next, joining Farkle, Nate, and CLARISSA CRUZ in the practice studio. Sarah hands the setlist ideas to Farkle at the piano, settling down next to DARBY WINTERS who is helping try out chords on her guitar. Nate has one half of his industrial headset on, fiddling with a sound mixing program on his chunky laptop as they avidly discuss whatever they’re scheming together.

Clarissa is listening with rapt attention to the discussion, only tuning out when she gets a text on her phone. She quickly lets them know she’ll be back in a minute, darting out of the studio --

INT. AAA - COSTUME LOFT - DAY

And arriving in the costume loft, though she pauses in the doorway. Jade is already dealing with someone, Maya having paid a visit to the costume loft to argue over certain costume concepts in regards to the new setlist. Just before the dance break, the music quiets somewhat, vamping under the scene as it unfolds.

While Maya is at her full diva pitch -- though, to be fair, she is just trying to do what she thinks is best for the team -- Jade Beamon has finally had enough. She stops trying to ignore Maya and holds up a hand to stop her costuming team at work, Asher, Nigel, Yindra, and Isadora pausing and staring as Jade swivels to face off with her. She sharply and deftly defends her vision for the costuming, citing her thought process with curt, to the point reasoning. She also takes Maya down with impressive calmness, especially considering the circumstances and the fact that Maya used to make her cry from being so nitpicky just about two years ago.

Jade: Believe it or not, Maya, I think I know what I’m doing given that I’ve designed almost every costume you’ve worn and made you look good for the past three and a half years. So how about you focus on your business, and you let me handle mine?

Damn. Mic drop! Maya stares at her, processing the clapback and debating whether to tear her to shreds in response or not… but ultimately, she opts to back off. If anything, Jade growing a backbone might’ve been the cure to Maya’s overbearing obnoxiousness the whole time. She leaves Jade to it, claiming she should let her know if she needs any additional help -- she’ll send someone else to do it tout de suite.

The others watch in fascination as Maya Hart retreats, strutting past Clarissa shocked and awed in the doorway. Jade takes a deep breath, recentering herself, and flips her loose ponytail back over her shoulder.

Jade: Where were we?

Back to work, team! No time to waste! They get back down to business as if nothing happened, which is impressive considering that was some big news we just witnessed.

The only one who doesn’t immediately get back to work is Nigel, who continues to stare at Jade like he can’t believe she’s real. What a woman…

As the dance break instrumentation swells back to full volume --

INT. AAA - DANCE STUDIO - DAY

Zay is tapping out the beat to a track with his good foot, bopping his head and talking through some choreography and steps with Jeff and Chai. They actually walk through the steps since he can’t, but the rapport seems to be good, and whatever they’re putting together already looks cool. They land on a particularly neat idea for a combination and Jeff and Chai high-five, the former leaning over to fist bump Zay too.

Suddenly, the dance studio that felt so lonely and isolated for so long is filled with camaraderie and enthusiasm again. Zay grins, feeling the rhythm again even though he can’t be on his feet. He jots down the combination idea, flipping the paper over --

INT. AAA - AUDITORIUM - DAY

And becoming Dave slamming a paint bucket at his feet, working with Dylan to put together a rolling flat that will become part of the dynamic backdrop for their performance. Dylan tests it by hopping onto it, throwing his arms out as Dave practices pushing it. They roll seamlessly out of the wings and onto the stage as the last pre-chorus launches into the final minute…

Where we find the A class back together, running through choreography and vocals together of their new routine. In this moment they perform the current song, subbing in for what their actual setlist will be, but getting the energy up and translating the hard work all the same. It’s powerful seeing them all come together, truly united like never before, and showing off exactly why they’re at such an elite school in the first place.

Zay takes the final belted run of the performance, jumping up from his seat where he, Lucas, and Maya are watching the run through. He throws his head back and lets it fly, the rest of the class backing him up at the very end to drive the number home.

Break 1.

INT. AAA - AUDITORIUM - DAY

The A class finishes an actual run through of their new routine, the passage of time indicated by the fact that they’re all in new rehearsal clothes. They’re breathless and sweaty but teeming with excitement. Even if it’s slapdash, even if it ends up not being enough, they clearly feel invigorated by whatever they’re putting out there. There is something so naturally riveting about underdogs making their last shot…

Zay has the floor in Riley’s absence, giving feedback and not only pointing out what could use refinement, but also what’s working. The positive reinforcement seems to be helpful, keeping everyone in light spirits in spite of the odds stacked against them.

As they’re about to break for rehearsal for the evening, Maya pipes up, asking if she can have a few words. Zay is reluctant, but obliges, stepping back next to Lucas.

Maya reveals that while they have been working hard on a majority of their new banging setlist, they still haven’t settled definitively on an opening number. Nothing has quite clicked right yet. Because of this, she argues, they’re going to need something that will fall together effortlessly -- which means a diva number. Since the rest of their routine is so heavy on the ensemble, it shouldn’t be an issue to let a powerful mezzo soprano kick off their show. It’s traditional, really, to have a star force central to some part of a showdown routine.

Maya: Lucky for us, I have the perfect pitch. It came to me in a vision, actually, when I was heavily incapacitated in a dire health operation --

Farkle: Oh no.

Isadora: It was a filling, Maya.

Maya: And I can think of the perfect starlet to carry the number.

For a moment, the class hangs in limited suspense. Of course, she’s going to volunteer herself. But then Maya steps across the stage, making her way to stand in front of Yindra.

Maya: If we’re showcasing the best and most underutilized, then I believe the choice is obvious. [ off her surprise ] Now I’m not giving up this opportunity lightly -- and rest assured, the pain in my ego is so blinding I will probably have to undergo another incapacitating surgery to recover from it --

Zay: Really selling the selflessness here.

Maya: But I know you’ve got what it takes. If anyone here was ever sincerely a threat to my mezzo diva dominance… I can admit you come close. So now is the time to deliver, Amino.

Another crazy moment. Maya, sharing the spotlight… I guess that’s growth. Yindra beams, shrugging her shoulders suavely.

Yindra: Don’t have to ask me twice. Let’s get to staging.

INT. AAA - DRESSING ROOM HALL - DAY

Post-rehearsal mayhem, everyone is rushing around gathering their things for the weekend and making sure they’re all up to date on what the plan is for tomorrow. Isadora bumps into Farkle, asking him if he’s seen Riley, but he merely shrugs.

Farkle: I think she said last week that she had a doctor’s appointment. Probably wasn’t planning for our entire showcase to change in that time.

Isadora: Yeah, no kidding.

Whatever she wants to debrief with Riley, it’ll have to wait until later. Isadora starts to check in with him, see if everything is okay since he randomly stepped down from the spotlight -- concerningly out of character, in her opinion -- but Farkle dodges the question.

This doesn’t sit well with her, but she lets it go for now. Too many crises going on right now to keep up with -- though Farkle will always be high on her priority list.

INT. AAA - BLACK BOX THEATER - DAY

Yindra is hanging back to gather the last of her things and read through the new opening number choreography one more time, lightly stepping through the moves as she sings to herself under her breath. The rhythm sounds slightly familiar, but it’s just soft enough that only someone really listening carefully could make it out.

It stops soon anyway, Yindra halting and jumping in embarrassment when Zay appears in the doorway. She tilts her chin up and grows defensive again, but it’s clear the effort of being cold with him is tiring. He chooses not to acknowledge it, entering the classroom and commending her for her soft-shoe last-minute rehearsing.

Zay: If it looks that great at 10% volume, I’m sure we’ll have no issues on Saturday.

Yindra: … well, I’m sure you wish it was you taking the diva opening. Since you’re the one working the hardest all the time.

Zay: Nah. If we’re aiming to secure an instant jaw-dropper, Maya couldn’t have chosen a better leading lady. Even if I were fit enough to be considered a contender right now.

Oh. Well that’s… nice. Yindra shifts focus to put her choreo sheets in her shoulder bag. Zay approaches and settles on top of a desktop to ease off his boot, taking the opportunity to guide the conversation.

Zay: Do you remember when we became friends?

Yindra, loftily: … was it when Miss Moore partnered us for duet assignments the second week of freshman year and promised a prize to the best breakout first duet, and we brought the house down with “Stand Up For Love,” but she chose Farkle and Maya instead?

Zay, amused: No. Though that was classic. [ a beat ] And maybe an eerie premonition about dear Angela.

Yindra: Anyone who chooses Anything Goes over the Destiny’s Child is deranged, so.

No arguments here. The moment of fellowship passes quickly, but it doesn’t feel like it’s gone for good... Yindra nods, still trying to maintain her aloof demeanor but allowing Zay to elaborate.

Zay: It was earlier than that, first week of class. No one really knew anyone, except like Haley and Clarissa since they met over the summer or whatever. So it kind of felt like every day was coming into battle alone. Anyway, Maya was giving her first -- of many, many -- psychotic mini-monologues before a performance, and this one was especially cracked. Probably because she was trying to establish her bitchutation.

INT. AAA - BLACK BOX THEATER - FLASHBACK - DAY

Though it’s brief, we catch a glimpse of what the world was like all those years ago. The A class -- or those that we can see -- are styled to look how they might’ve that first year, awkward and definitely poorly dressed compared to now. Freshman year is so hard. A slightly frazzled ANGELA MOORE attempts to maintain order, but clearly the A class of 2021 is already proving to be a… unique challenge.

True to Zay’s word, most of them are sitting on their own, though there are clusters where it seems friendship has already sprouted. An even shyer Charlie is sitting behind Clarissa and Haley, who keeps glancing over her shoulder to smile at him and then giggling nervously. Dylan, Dave, and Nate are whispering and passing notes mischievously -- Dylan with his embarrassing glasses and Bieber cut -- while Asher watches him wistfully from a couple desks away where he’s sitting with Jade. Farkle is in his blazer and semi-bowl cut and shooting daggers into Maya who is loudmouthing up at the front; Lucas is nowhere to be seen.

Zay is seated amidst it all, but distinctly on his own. He’s probably dressed better than most of his peers even then, and his hair is different than he wears it now, but even someone as cool as him can’t shake the quintessential freshman awkwardness. Presently, he’s scowling as Maya talks, clearly unimpressed.

Zay, voiceover: Now, I admit, I was making a bit of a stank face. I mean, it was Maya. But I remember I glanced around to see if everyone else was hearing this nonsense --

Freshman Zay does just that, freezing and reigning in his distaste when he spots Yindra. Her hair is different as well, and she’s not clothed as fashionably as she is these days. But she’s glancing towards Zay, too, and he doesn’t want to seem like a bitch. However…

Zay, voiceover: And you were making the exact same face.

For a second, freshman Yindra and Zay just stare at each other, caught. Then, Yindra cracks a smile, conspiratorial and a touch embarrassed. Zay immediately returns it, the two of them sharing a silent laugh across the room.

Zay, voiceover: That was when it clicked for me. I don’t think I even knew your name yet, but it felt like we’d been friends for years. Kindred spirits.

INT. AAA - BLACK BOX THEATER - DAY

Back in the present, Zay finishes recounting the memory, light smile on his face as he looks at her. She’s listening but avoiding his eyes, fiddling with the strap of her bag.

Zay: And I was right. I think that’s probably the only thing I was right about from freshman year. [ slipping off the desk ] You and I are one in the same. That’s why we’re best friends. We have impeccable taste. We always bring it. We work our asses off. [ a beat ] We find it really hard to admit when we’re wrong… or when we’ve been stung.

True enough. Yindra clears her throat, tentatively meeting his eyes.

Zay: I’m sorry I was such a bitch. And I’m especially sorry that I made you think, even for a second, that you’re not good enough. That you’re not on my level or whatever bullshit I was selling this semester. It’s not true. You are the only person who is always on my level. Bar none.

Yindra: … well, you’re certainly not the only one good at being a little bitch…

Zay: No, but I get why you did it. Honestly, if the roles were reversed, I probably would’ve done the same to you. Like I said, one in the same. [ a beat ] And I hope you’ll forgive me and we can go back to the whole kindred spirit thing, because I really don’t want to miss the boat when you’re wildly successful in L.A. and inevitably lift me up with you. Just strategic thinking.

This, finally, really breaks the ice. Yindra can’t help but smile, shaking her head.

Yindra: You are so dramatic.

And then she’s hugging him, pulling him into a tight embrace. Zay returns it, relieved, and the universe tilts one degree closer to being back in order.

They pull apart, Yindra scrunching her face fondly and lightly patting his cheek. She reaches over to grab her bag and slings it over her shoulder, linking her arm through his as they slowly walk towards the door.

Zay: I’m serious about the career thing. Maybe we should tag team. Maybe we should go full Destiny’s Child.

Yindra: Ooh… [ tapping her chin ] But who’s gonna be our third…

Zay: Nigel?

Yindra: … well, we can always hold open auditions.

Zay laughs, the two of them disappearing into the hallway.

INT. TOPANGA’S CAR - MOVING - DAY

Riley is in the passenger seat of Topanga’s car, focused on a text thread where the A class is recapping any last-minute notes and thoughts for prep tomorrow. She types a quick response apologizing for not being there that afternoon and highlighting how hard everyone has worked. In her other hand, she’s clutching a prescription slip on her lap.

TOPANGA LAWRENCE comments that it’s good they arranged this doctor appointment for today -- she is so incredibly snowed under with work at the firm, it’s lucky she was able to drive Riley out today. As if Riley doesn’t know a thing or two about being swamped these days… still, her mother is in good spirits.

Topanga: I’m glad to hear everything seems to be in good shape, though. And smart of you to get this physical done in a timely manner -- your dad is such a disaster when it comes to keeping up with appointments. [ with a smile ] I must’ve raised you well.

Riley manages to return the smile, ignoring the comment about Cory. At this point, those are so natural to conversations with Topanga, it’s like white noise. Topanga casts a sideways glance at the prescription she has, knowing smirk ghosting over her lips.

Topanga: Though I think considering what you came to get, the reason you asked if I would take you is fairly obvious…

Riley awkwardly shifts her fingers on the slip, allowing us to get a better look at what she’s being prescribed for the first time. Birth control. She puts her phone in her pocket and absentmindedly fiddles with the braid on her shoulder.

Riley: I did think you were the much smarter option for help in this matter, yes.

Topanga: No doubt about that. You should spare Cory the knowledge of this little development as long as you possibly can. For his own good.

Yeah, Riley doesn’t seem to disagree on that. Although it’s just another one-up against Cory, they do exchange a small humorous smile, like a new inside joke they share.

Riley: Thanks for coming with me.

Topanga: Of course. [ a beat ] So… you and Lucas must be getting pretty serious, then.

Riley’s expression shifts into something softer. She looks out the window, unable to look at her mother as she contemplates it. Not because she’s embarrassed, but because something about Lucas and what they have is sacred. He’s something she doesn’t want -- or have to -- share with anybody else.

Still, thinking of him naturally elicits a delicate smile.

Riley: Yeah. Yeah, we are.

INT. AAA - TECHNICIAN’S BOOTH - DAY

Lucas is packing up, stuffing things into his backpack. He takes care to handle the showcase binder gently, not wanting to do anything or lose anything that might throw them back into the pits of hopelessness.

But something does fall out anyway, dropping to the floor at his feet. He curses under his breath and slips the binder into his bag, crouching down to recover whatever escaped.

Money. A few crisp hundred dollar bills, folded neatly together. Lucas knows he’s not just carrying that kind of money around, and it’s clear that it was slipped into his things with careful intent. It’s no mystery where it came from.

But that also means someone was rooting through his stuff, once again intruding his sanctuary without permission. Lucas scowls, crumpling up the bills in his fist as he climbs back to his feet.

Missy, pre-lap: No, no, it’s supposed to be that side of the stage. Do you all have directional dyslexia?

INT. AAA - AUDITORIUM - DAY

MISSY BRADFORD is standing on the stage, directing a bunch of the underclassmen techies to move some final set piece adjustments. But they’re young and still learning, which she clearly doesn’t have the patience for. She shakes her head, unimpressed, while behind her we can see Lucas jogging down from the booth.

Missy: I swear, they just don’t make help like they used to…

Lucas: Hey!

Missy swivels around, expression brightening in interest when she sees who’s snapping at her. She saunters over to the edge of the stage as the younger techies disperse, leaving them alone.

Missy: Just the person I wanted to talk to. I finally got those panels for the rolling flats. Normally it shouldn’t take this long, especially considering how much I paid, but when it’s a rush job --

Lucas: What makes you think you can go through my shit?

Lucas’s tone is harsh, more scathing than the usual dry sarcasm he employs with her. But it doesn’t intimidate Missy much -- in fact, if anything, it just seems to intrigue her more. She raises her eyebrows as he reaches the front of the house, now standing essentially below her.

Lucas: And the booth. I told you you can’t just go waltzing in there whenever the fuck you want. To do whatever the fuck you want --

He tosses the crumpled bills at her feet on the stage, glaring up at her derisively. She shrugs coolly, clasping her hands together.

Missy: As far as I understand it, actually, the booth is available to all students for use. So I have every right to it just as much as you do.

Lucas clenches his jaw, obviously wanting to bite back, but in this case he has no argument. Technically, technically, she’s right. Even if every other student silently respects the unspoken rule that the booth is his, there’s nothing he can use against someone who doesn’t. His anger is palpable when he speaks again, voice low.

Lucas: This thing, whatever it is? It’s done. It has to stop.

Missy, innocently: “Thing?” I’m afraid I don’t know what you’re talking about --

Lucas: Yes, you do. Cut the bullshit. Whatever game you’re playing, or… dance you think you’re doing, you’re doing it on your own. I’m done with it.

Bold words. And obviously not something Missy would want to hear… though for what it’s worth, she seems unfazed by his declaration. She maintains her confident nonchalance, examining him for a long moment… then holds her hands up in surrender.

Missy: Okay. I never meant to upset you, Lucas. I was just trying to help. [ a beat ] But if you’re really not into it anymore, you can always… give the money back.

Oh. Well… that’s not so simple. Lucas opens his mouth as if he’s going to respond, but nothing comes out. Some of the fire he marched down here with burns out, leaving him uncertain. And Missy sure notices, her sweetness sharpening into coy smugness. She tilts her head.

Missy: But you’re not going to do that. Are you?

She casually extends her designer shoe to kick at one of the discarded bills, threatening to send it down the thin gap between the orchestra pit and the floor. But Lucas reaches out to save it just in time, hastily catching it before it’s lost forever.

Got ‘em. She’s spotted Lucas’s brazen dismissal for exactly what it is -- a bluff.

And he’s clearly ashamed of it, how easily he caved, when the thing he needs so desperately is dangled in front of his face. Missy gives him a sympathetic look, but it’s closer to pity than empathy. It’s so hard to tell what is real from her, how much she actually sees Lucas as a human being versus an attractive puzzle for her to toy with.

But in this moment, she’s won, so she’s feeling charitable. She primly lowers herself down to sit on the stage across from him, crossing her legs and picking up the other wrinkled bills. She spreads them on her lap and smooths them as she talks, restoring them to pristine condition.

Missy: I thought we already discussed this. We’re on the same page about our little dynamic. And it’ll all be worth it, won’t it, when you get what you want… [ eyeing him ] if you truly care so much about UC Davis.

Lucas: There are things I care about more. [ a beat, then softer ] Things I don’t want to mess up.

Although he doesn’t say it, it’s fairly obvious what he’s thinking about. Missy’s not an idiot, and she knows where he stands with Riley. But he’s been willing to play along this long… and given her lack of context and history and how brusque Lucas tends to be around others, it’s unlikely Missy considers Riley much of an issue. But if he wants to continue the game…

Missy: And that’s why it’s a private affair. Hush-hush, just between you and me. There’s no guilt in what people don’t know. And besides, do you want to welcome all the additional trouble you’ll have to contend with if I don’t contribute? I think you’ve already got enough on your plate.

She finishes flattening the bills, placing them gingerly on the edge of the stage next to her. Ready to be his again, should he deem to take them. All of the rage that drove him to confront her has been extinguished, replaced with that cold, cornered feeling he always has when she’s there.

Missy: Focus on the big problems, Lucas. Showdown, your scholarship plans. And once that’s all squared away and the dust has settled… then we can explore what comes next. [ slipping off the stage ] One step at a time.

She passes him without another glance, making her way up the aisles and leaving him on that note. He starts to glance over his shoulder but ultimately doesn’t, not even wanting to look at her anymore. He looks a little sick.

But the money remains, waiting for him. No Missy there to scrutinize him as he takes it, no judgment being cast down on him but his own. He knows his truth. He knows what he cares about, what matters above all else. And money is money… he’s always known that… doesn’t matter where, or who, it comes from…

Lucas hangs stuck in that moment, torn between shame and sense.

INT. AAA - DANCE STUDIO - NIGHT

Long after the final bell of the day has rung, Isadora remains in the dance studio, going over the routine again. It’s usually Zay’s territory at this time of night, but instead of his perfected moves and graceful poise, Isadora is following the steps in almost a robotic manner, and cursing at herself whenever she makes a mistake.

Chai peeks her head around the door, having been practicing herself in another studio and wondering who’s still here. She watches Isadora struggle for a moment before stepping in and pressing pause on the music. Isadora looks over to her in shock.

Chai: Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you. What are you still doing here?

Isadora: What does it look like? Failing miserably at the routine.

Chai sighs in sympathy and shrugs off her sports duffel so that she can help Isadora. Isadora cringes as Chai does a couple of stretches to warm herself up again.

Isadora: I feel bad. You already spent so long trying to help me and here I am the night before the showcase, as terrible as ever.

Chai: You’re too hard on yourself. Everyone’s been struggling with the choreo since it changed in such short notice, and for a non-dancer you’re doing well. You remember all the steps, you just need to do them more gracefully.

Chai demonstrates one of the moves that Isadora was trying to do a moment earlier, but when Isadora copies, she doesn’t have the same natural rhythm and movement that Chai does. Chai tries coaching her through it, giving her instructions to twist a bit more, or move her arm like this and that, but it only makes Isadora more frustrated.

Isadora: We’ve been trying this for days. It isn’t going to work. I’m a lost cause.

Chai: Nobody is a lost cause. We just have to try something new.

Chai tells Isadora to do the routine again, and starts the music. She walks around Isadora as she dances, scrutinizing every move. At one point when Isadora seems particularly robotic in her movements, Chai reaches out to correct her position on instinct. She freezes when she realizes it might not want to be touched, hands hovering over Isadora’s hips. Isadora looks down at Chai’s hands and halts.

Chai, shyly: Is this… okay?

Isadora gives a tentative nod. Chai rests her hands lightly on Isadora, and guides her through the movements. Both are quiet and a little tense, an odd tension in the air, but it isn’t uncomfortable.

As they get used to it, they relax and Isadora’s dancing becomes more natural. Once Chai thinks that she’s got it, she takes a step back and lets her hands drift away. She requests Isadora go through it again. This time, Isadora’s moves flow much better and she looks less awkward. Chai smiles brightly.

Chai: You got it!

Isadora: Really?

Chai: Yeah, it’s looking good. Really good. Let's do it again.

Chai steps in line with Isadora, and they start the routine from scratch. That odd tension is still there, but it feels more like tentative excitement than anything else. They glance at each other as they step through moves in the routine, exchanging a smile before spinning in opposite directions.

INT. HAVERFORD PREP - AUDITORIUM - NIGHT

The Haverford boys are wrapping up their last evening rehearsal before Saturday, all of them sweaty and exhausted. Even if they’re got an unfair advantage, they’re not going to skate on it.

What is interesting is that Charlie is nowhere to be seen. Everyone else is accounted for except him, and his absence is noticeable -- particularly on the eve of showdown. Brandon runs through final notes and reminders, then relaxes just a fraction to rally his boys and assure them that victory is all but guaranteed. All there is left to do is go out there and do the damn thing.

Hurrah! The Havies come together as Billy leads a rallying cheer, demonstrating that iron-clad brotherhood once again. They do a final hoot and cheer and disband just as Charlie appears in the wings, hanging back to let them have their moment.

As his classmates pass him, their reception towards him is mixed -- some are casual and friendly, as if nothing is out of the ordinary, while others shoot him dirty looks for his blatant skipping of rehearsal. Billy makes a point of bumping him with his shoulder.

Billy: Way to show up, C.

Charlie takes it all in stride, swallowing his nerves and not reacting. He waits until the rest of the class has cleared out, hovering on the sidelines until there’s nothing left for Brandon to do but address him.

Brandon: I’m assuming, since you deemed to grace me with your presence now, that you have a good reason for missing our last rehearsal before showdown.

There’s his cue. Charlie nods, stepping out of the shadows and joining him on the stage.

Charlie: I’m sorry about that. Just… a personal emergency.

Brandon, unimpressed: It doesn’t reflect well on you, Charles. I admit, I thought you were more reliable than that. [ off his sheepish expression ] But it’s fine, we all have off days. Thankfully we were able to work around you.

Charlie: That’s good. I’m glad to hear it. [ a beat ] If you’ve already figured that out, then you’ll be able to do it without me on Saturday.

Now that, Brandon wasn’t expecting. His eyebrows shoot up. Charlie holds his ground, trying not to wither under his stare and keep his voice even and resolute.

Charlie: Believe me, it’s not my ideal outcome, and I really don’t want to let the team down. You guys have been good to me, really taken me under your wing, and I needed that when I first got here. I don’t want to screw that up.

Brandon: But?

Charlie: But I don’t think I can get up there and compete against Adams. You and the boys deserve to have everyone on the same page, one hundred percent dedicated and focused on the win. And as much as I want to be a part of that, I know in my heart I won’t be able to deliver.

Brandon remains skillfully unreadable, simply listening without giving any of his reactions away. Charlie clears his throat.

Charlie: I like being at Haverford. I like being part of the brotherhood. But part of me will always be with Adams. Those people… they’re my family. And I can’t go against family. [ a beat ] You get that, right?

Considering his commitment to the brotherhood, you’d think he would. Brandon contemplates for a long moment, leaving Charlie nervous and vulnerable in the encroaching silence… one that grows more painful the longer it ticks on...

Then he smiles, suave and unbothered like always.

Brandon: Sure, Charles. I understand completely.

Charlie exhales, managing a relieved smile. He thanks Brandon for being so cool about it, and assures him that he’ll still be there on Saturday to support everyone. But this already feels so much better. He thanks Brandon one more time and then heads out, wishing him luck for the whole team as he goes.

Brandon upholds his pleasant smile until Charlie is gone, granting him an easy wave as he steps out the door. But once he’s out of sight, the charm dissipates. His expression sours, the barbed edges bleeding through his smooth demeanor.

Announcer, pre-lap: Ladies and gentlemen, we’re in for a face-off for the ages!

INT. SHOWDOWN FINALS VENUE - LOBBY - DAY

Saturday. The day of senior showdown. The energy is electric as we move through the elegant space, the same arts and cultural center where the Jacobs Gala was held in 112. It’s grandiose and professional-grade, a sense of the big leagues if there ever was one. It’s like one step below an actual Broadway stage -- think the Dolby Theatre Oscars vibes, or the Kennedy Center.

The place is already buzzing with life, venue officials rushing to and fro to keep things organized and groups from different schools wandering and congregating. Adams and Haverford are only one showdown of many this afternoon, as the announcers explain over the scenery that senior showdown is an annual event that encompasses multiple forms of competitive art and multiple delegations of the cream of the crop. Manhattan is only a piece of the program today -- though admittedly, it’s one of the most anticipated segments of the day.

INT. SHOWDOWN FINALS VENUE - AUDITORIUM - DAY

The announcers say as much, describing that the orchestra showdowns will kick us off, followed by show choir, dance troupe, and a couple of other categories. And then by this afternoon, we’ll dive into the highly awaited performance showdowns, including the two Manhattan elites: Adams Academy for the Arts versus their long-time rivals and reigning six-year champs, Haverford Preparatory Academy. As they wrap up their opening spiel, we get a look at the fancy stage digs they’ll be working with, already filling up with spectators.

What a way to fund the arts. It’s time to showdown!

EXT. LUCAS’S APARTMENT - DAY

Well, not quite yet time. The A class still has time to spare, and things are much quieter over in the East Village.

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

Which is where we find Riley and Lucas, picking up a couple of items for showdown that Lucas had been storing for safe-keeping. His shoebox bedroom is remarkably neater than we’ve seen it in the past, all that spring cleaning from last year having paid off. It’s at least decent enough that he’s allowing Riley to be in it -- though the reasoning for that is more likely the lack of a certain someone or something.

Either way, they’re not staying long. Lucas hands the materials to Riley and they head out, discussing how long they think it’ll take to get uptown. Traffic is pretty dastardly today, apparently, especially around the venue.

INT. LUCAS’S APARTMENT - DAY

They duck out of Lucas’s room and he shuts the door behind him. He tells Riley to give him one second while he grabs one more thing from the closet, jogging out of sight down the tiny hallway. She says no worries, perfectly content to wait on her own and take in every last detail of his home given how rarely she’s allowed inside to see it.

When suddenly the door opens in the entryway. Riley freezes, staring towards the doorway. She braces herself for the worst, completely unsure what might happen or what she should do if he shows up. Worried about what might happen to Lucas…

But it’s not the worst. It’s only GRACE FRIAR, who mirrors Riley’s surprise as she enters the living area and finds her unexpectedly parked in her apartment. She’s dressed for work at the florist, dressed in a worn but pretty floral dress and an evergreen apron, light hair pulled back out of her face.

Riley, uncertainly: Hi.

Lucas reappears in the next instant, having rushed back when he heard the noise. He’s relieved to find it’s only his mother, but barely. He quickly comes to stand at Riley’s side, evidently nervous at this turn of events. It was never part of his plan.

Lucas: Mom. What are you doing here? I thought you weren’t going to be home.

Grace, timid: I swapped shifts with another employee. Since Kenneth is in Jersey for the game, I thought I’d try and see if I could free up my afternoon to see your showdown performance today. [ glancing at Riley ] And I guess I got lucky.

Oh. That’s nice. Lucas wasn’t expecting it, uncertain what to say next. He only figures it out when he realizes how intently Riley and Grace are looking at each other, both fascinated and curious and definitely a bit nervous. He clears his throat, awkwardly scratching his neck.

Lucas: Um, this is Riley. Riley, this is my mom.

Very informative, Lucas. But that’s all Riley needs, and with permission to interact, her bubbly charm does the rest. She steps forward, holding out a hand and offering a sincere smile.

Riley: Hi again. It’s so nice to finally meet you.

Grace: [ accepting her handshake ] Likewise. Unexpected, though… I suppose the best things in life are.

She chuckles anxiously, and Riley does her the favor of laughing along with her. So skilled at making others feel comfortable, like that’s just naturally how she operates.

Grace: I’m sorry I’m so unprepared. If I had known I would’ve… cleaned up, or had something ready to…

Riley: Oh, please, no. Don’t worry about it. I’m the one intruding on you.

Lucas: And we’re just passing through. Picking up a couple things. [ pointedly ] And we should go if we want to beat the traffic --

Grace: Right. Right, of course. Don’t let me get in your way.

Grace quickly steps to the side, an expert at making herself smaller. She skirts around them and gives them easy access to the entryway and a swift exit, wishing both of them luck with showdown. Hopefully she’ll be able to make it down there.

Riley, enthusiastically: You definitely should. It’s going to be an amazing show. And our competition is notoriously tough to beat, so they should at least be enjoyable.

With a pitch like that, how could she say no? Riley should do marketing for the showdown committee. And she could probably find generous ways to keep the conversation going for hours, but Lucas is keen to expedite this escape and gently nudges her towards the door. She gifts Grace one more goodbye before they depart.

Although she wasn’t prepared for it, Grace seems happy with the introduction. A light smile lingers on her face.

INT. BABINEAUX HOME - DAY

DONNA BABINEAUX pulls open the front door, finding Nigel and Yindra on the doorstep. Yindra already has her hair and make-up done, looking stellar, and Nigel’s hair is brushed up out of his face. Donna seems unsurprised to see them, stepping back and knowingly nodding towards the stairs.

Donna: He’s in his room. Good luck.

Nigel and Yindra exchange a look.

INT. BABINEAUX HOME - ZAY’S BEDROOM - DAY

Zay is far from ready to roll, still wrapped up in his blankets and hunkered down to wallow. His boot rests on the floor at the foot of his bed.

He’s looking at videos on his phone, mainly of the days when he could dance. The semis routine, clips from rehearsals pre-injury, ones he recorded that he ended up using for his applications. Today is the day he’s supposed to be doing all of it, helping elevate Adams to victory.

And that’s not the only thing interspersed throughout his library as he flicks through files. There are videos of him with his friends, too, and the ones he always hovers on longer are the ones of Charlie. Ones that are now almost a year old, like them rehearsing in their usual studio together, goofing off, or where he didn’t even realize Zay was filming. The one he hesitates on longer than the rest involves Charlie laying where he is right now, bashful and uncontrollably giggling while Zay picks on him from off-screen.

It’s all mixed together, all haunting him in different ways, but it doesn’t set him off anymore. There’s no more aggressive fuel compensating for the loss, so now it simply aches. Crazy, how much has changed in so little time… how he has no idea how much of it will change back or inevitably shift again from underneath him…

Yindra and Nigel swing open his door, startling him. He quickly locks his phone and grumbles at them as to what the hell they’re doing.

Zay: Why are you here? You can’t be all the way in Queens when you should be at the venue already.

Yindra: We know. It’s a calculated risk.

Nigel: But if we should be there, we could say the same to you.

Zay huffs, tossing his phone onto the covers and sinking deeper into his bed. They must have miscalculated, because they’re wasting precious time. He’s not performing, so he has no reason to be there like them. He’s not going.

They thought he might say that -- and they’re not taking no for an answer. Not now, on a day that means everything. In a surprisingly feisty move, Nigel leans forward and rips the blankets off him.

Nigel: Get up.

Zay: Yo, what the hell --

Yindra: Damn, Nige.

Zay: What’s your deal? Did you not hear me? There is no reason for me to go. I can’t perform, and sitting there watching what I can’t do doesn’t sound like an exciting afternoon for me. I have nothing to contribute, so why should I bother?

Nigel: Bullshit.

Yindra: Damn, Nige.

Nigel: That’s bullshit, Zay! You know it is. You have contributed plenty to our setlist -- you choreographed an entirely new routine in a week!

Yindra: True.

Nigel: We never would’ve been able to pull that off without you. And we still won’t if you’re not there, because I’m more than positive some of us are going to need refreshers right up until we get on that stage. You know, since again, we picked it up in a week.

Yindra: Also true.

Nigel: And even if that weren’t the case, it shouldn’t matter anyway. You should want to be there because this is it, man. We have worked our butts off for three years to get to this point. And I agree, it sucks that you can’t be up there on dancing it out with us -- you know I think that. But that doesn’t mean you should forgo it all and crawl under a rock to wait it out. This is one of those experiences we’re going to remember forever, and I know you. You don’t want to be the person who missed it all and can’t share in the memories because he didn’t even try. Even if you can’t be on stage yourself, you should want to show up for the rest of us. For Riley, for Yindra. For me. I think you want to, underneath your pride and your self-pity. [ a beat ] And deep down, I think you know that if you tap out and skip it, you’re going to regret it forever.

Wow. It would be a good argument on its own, but since it’s coming from an impassioned Nigel, it’s especially compelling. Yindra stares at her usually laid back, non-confrontational best friend, jaw hanging open slightly.

Yindra, hushed: Damn, Nigel! Where has this been for the last three years?

Yindra shifts her wide eyes to Zay. You’re seeing this too, right? But Nigel doesn’t break, holding Zay’s gaze and continuing the encouragement with his classic Shakespearean smolder.

Finally, Zay relents. He pushes himself forward to the edge of the bed and asks them to hand him his boot, and for Yindra to grab something from his closet for him to throw on. They’re going to have to move fast if they want to get there on time.

Zay: [ as Yindra dashes to his closet ] Pick something fresh!

Yindra, off-screen: You insult me!

Nigel hands him his boot, Zay taking it gratefully. He meets his eyes again.

Zay: Thanks for not leaving me behind.

Nigel, sincere: “To me, fair friend, you never can be old.”

Okay, Bard nerd. But it’s sweet, and the sentiment obviously means a lot to Zay.

INT. SHOWDOWN FINALS VENUE - LOBBY - DAY

Eric and Isadora arrive together, the latter in a rush to get backstage. She thanks Eric for driving and promises she’ll see him after the show, and he shouts a good luck after her in return.

Once he’s alone, he scans the room and all the well-dressed patrons mixing and mingling. An usher offers him a program and he takes it cheerfully, but he finally spots who he’s looking for before he can read it.

JACK HUNTER. It’s like he hasn’t been able to find him all week — and this seems like the kind of time where you want your principal to be around. He’s conversing with EVELYN RAND, charming and professional as always.

Eric heads over to join them, friendly but keeping that healthy distance between them after their discussion last week. Evelyn brightens when she sees him approaching, giving him a jolly hello and stating she better be off. Performances to see! But she is wishing the best of luck to them and the delegation from Adams.

Evelyn departs, leaving the two of them alone. They exchange warm greetings, though it’s muted from Jack. They mention all of the stuff they heard about the scramble the A class went through from Lucas and Isadora, noting the stacked odds.

Eric: Well, all we can hope is that they managed to pull it together. They’ve done it before -- I believe they’ll do it again.

Jack: Yeah… yes, me too.

But given his own stacked odds at the moment, Jack’s belief doesn’t seem wholly convincing. Eric clocks his apprehension, the way he feels like a shade of his former self. He steps a little closer, dropping his voice to a murmur.

Eric: Things will work out, Jack. You don’t have to disappear from the equation for things to work out.

Jack doesn’t seem convinced. Eric frowns. He starts to say more, but Jack’s eye has caught HARRISON YANCY across the room, mingling with JEFFERSON DAVIS GRAHAM and other prominent school board members. They cast a glance in his direction, unreadable, holding too much power in their hands.

Jack clears his throat, creating more distance between him and Eric as he starts to retreat.

Jack: Should head on in. I believe Harper saved us a seat. Wouldn’t want to miss our competition’s performance.

Eric glances over his shoulder where Jack was looking, spotting the crowd of conservative board hawks. He scowls, starting to comment, but when he turns back around Jack is already gone.

INT. RILEY’S CAR - DAY

Lucas and Riley arrive around the same time, pulling into a parking spot and killing the engine. Lucas is behind the wheel today, and from how quiet the car is it seems there wasn’t much chatter on the drive over. The two of them sit in the silence for a moment, Riley searching for a way to broach the subject.

Riley: … your mom seems really nice. It’s cool that she wants to come to showdown. You know, maybe we should’ve offered her a ride…

Lucas, quickly: I’m sorry about how I acted. That I like, rushed you out of there.

Riley: It’s okay. I figured it caught everyone by surprise.

Lucas: It’s not that I don’t want you to meet her. Or don’t want her to meet you. I’m not trying to hide you or anything. [ scoffing ] Honestly, if there’s anything in my life worth showing off, I know full well what it is. And it’s not like I think she wouldn’t like you -- I mean, it’s impossible not to.

Riley smiles, bashful. He’s still nervous, keeping his eyes on the keys rather than her, but he pushes through the vulnerability anyway. Really trying.

Lucas: It’s just that… things with them… me and my parents, it’s not… it’s weird. They’ve never -- my mom, she doesn’t even really feel like… it’s more like we’re… I don’t know, roommates rather than blood. Prisonmates, sometimes. [ chuckling awkwardly, then frowning; he just can’t say anything right ] It’s not that I don’t… I know she cares about me. In her way. I just didn’t… it’s hard to explain. It’s all kinda fucked up, and I didn’t want to get you all… tangled into it. [ a beat ] But I don’t want you thinking it’s because of you, because it’s not.

He said more than enough. Riley reaches across the console and gently touches his cheek, waiting for him to meet her eyes.

Riley: It’s okay. I understand. But thank you for telling me.

Lucas nods. She turns the light touch into a caress, stroking her thumb against his cheekbone. He closes his eyes and leans into the gesture.

Riley: She really did seem lovely. Pretty, and super sweet. [ fondly ] I see her in you.

It’s possible no one has ever said that to Lucas before. He processes the compliment, letting it sink in, then manages a shy smile. He takes her hand in his own, pressing a soft kiss to her palm and then linking their fingers together.

They soak in the peace, the kind they can always rely on to find with each other… and they’re going to need it, because it won’t last long inside that venue…

INT. SHOWDOWN FINALS VENUE - DRESSING ROOM HALL - DAY

Case in point, backstage it’s a circus as performers scramble to get ready. Isadora is marching through the chaos, back in stage manager mode, trying to account for everybody and figure out what fires are still left to be put out. One of which would be the fact that so many people from their team still aren’t here -- Nigel and Yindra; Jade with the costumes; Farkle; Riley and Lucas.

She shouts amidst the group if anyone has seen any of them. Darby stops mid-jog to the girls dressing room.

Darby: Farkle is already here, I saw him. We were a couple of the first to arrive.

Isadora: And where is he now?

Darby: No idea. But he’s around here somewhere!

Isadora: Perfect. That’s so helpful. Absolutely enlightening information!

Isadora whips around just as Riley and Lucas make their way into the hall. She exhales a dramatic sigh, complimenting them sarcastically for finally making it. At least somebody can roll up when they’re needed. The two of them exchange a yikes look, scooting around Isadora carefully so as not to detonate her further.

Isadora: And where the hell are Nigel and Yindra?!

INT. NIGEL’S CAR - MOVING - DAY

Nigel and Yindra are en route, but “moving” might be a misleading slugline. They’re stuck in that bumper-to-bumper traffic Riley and Lucas were discussing, tensions high as they race to make it to the venue.

Yindra: This is going to give me high blood pressure! Can’t you go any faster, Nigel?

Nigel: GO? GO WHERE, YINDRA? I CAN’T GO FASTER WHEN WE’RE STOPPED.

Zay leans forward between them from the middle backseat, breaking into their bickering to inform them of updates from Riley. They’re transitioning into the performing arts section of the program, which means the clock is ticking down by the second. Yindra and Nigel continue to bicker, volume rising under the stress, until Zay finally smacks Nigel’s shoulder to get his attention.

Nigel: WHAT?

Zay: GREEN LIGHT. CARS MOVING.

Yindra: GO! GO! GO!

Nigel: AHHHHHHHHHHHHH --

Nigel hits the gas, and they’re moving once again --

INT. SHOWDOWN FINALS VENUE - BACKSTAGE - DAY

Riley is concealed in the shadows of the wings, watching nervously as another school from a different league showdown completes their routine. Based on the music playing, they’re going for a more classical repertoire, but Riley seems grateful they don’t have even more competition to be worried about than just Haverford.

She leans forward just enough to peer through the curtain, still hidden but able to glimpse the grand house beyond the stage. It seems like a pretty packed audience, and somewhere out there are the judges who will decide their fate. Their standing against Haverford, the future of Lucas’s scholarship initiative, the spirit of her class… the weight of all the above resting on her shoulders and creating the subtle frown on her face.

Brandon: Nice accommodations, aren’t they?

Riley spins and comes face to face with Brandon. He’s already dressed in his performance attire -- no longer quite as glossy and more refined to contrast AAA’s original shiny style -- but he’s taken the time to double check that everything is right where it needs to be for their setlist… and apparently, to run into her.

Brandon: I don’t believe we’ve had the pleasure of formally meeting yet, Riley. [ offering a hand ] Brandon Rivas.

She’s not eager to change that, but Riley is socially savvy. She knows how to play things right, so she mirrors his pleasant smile and accepts the handshake.

Riley: Oh, I’ve heard all about you. But I’m sure you already know that.

Brandon: Guilty as charged. There’s not much I don’t know. But it would be hard for me not to know you, considering how often Charles has talked about you. He speaks highly of you, rest assured.

Riley: That I believe. Charlie is a good friend. I wouldn’t expect any less from him.

Brandon: Yes… he is, isn’t he.

They exchange a couple more small talk niceties, including Riley mentioning that she’s heard they were quite impressive at semis. Both of them have their work cut out for them, facing each other. Brandon shrugs humbly, then claims he should go gather the boys. The team on stage is wrapping up, and then they’ve only got 10 minutes to show. But he’s pleased they had the chance to meet.

Brandon: Good to confer leader to leader -- makes for good sportsmanship. I know there are power structures in place at Adams, but to my understanding, it’s you who pulls the strings across the park. The true brains of the operation.

Well, if we’re aiming for good sportsmanship, the Havies are already laps behind. And Riley clearly doesn’t like his tone, what he’s subtly implying about her friends -- including and especially her boyfriend.

But she doesn’t show it, merely sharpening her smile instead.

Riley: I wouldn’t underestimate any of my cohort.

Tell him, Riles! Brandon starts to back off, easing further into the shadows.

Brandon: Break a leg -- though you probably can’t afford many more of those, can you?

Oh, shots are being fired. Riley’s expression twitches, but she doesn’t give him the satisfaction of a response. She releases a pointed exhale once he’s gone, the audience launching into applause behind her indicating that the time to bring it is in fact inching closer and closer…

EXT. SHOWDOWN FINALS VENUE - ROOFTOP - DAY

The exterior of the venue is less glamorous but just as stunning as the interior. A beautiful rooftop terrace acts as a place for guests to mingle during intermissions or events, similar to the outer walkways of the Kennedy Center. It provides a gorgeous view of the city stretched out around them, the sky a hazy periwinkle on this chilly early December afternoon.

Farkle seems to be enjoying the cold, though. He’s perched on a bench looking out towards the south of the island, just glimpsing the peak of his building in the financial district. He closes his eyes and inhales deep, absorbing the cold air and letting it cool his nerves. He’s hiding his costume under his coat, but we can see the beginnings of what the aesthetic might be given the stardust-like eyeshadow and eyeliner he’s sporting.

His momentary peace is destroyed when Isadora slams open the door and stomps towards him, hands on hips.

Isadora: There you are! Do you know how stressed I am already attempting to manage everyone before this absolutely convoluted last-minute showdown showcase without you deciding to disappear off the face of the earth? Why the hell are you out here?

A couple of other patrons stare at them, then awkwardly retreat towards the other side of the roof. Theater kids. Farkle glances around them to see if anyone else reacted, then mutters a halfhearted apology. Isadora sighs, unimpressed, but shifts her demeanor to be less threatening (or at least, she tries).

Isadora: What’s going on with you? You haven’t been in your right mind recently and I’m starting to worry.

Farkle, dryly: Do I even have a right mind to be in?

Isadora: I’m assuming that’s rhetorical, so I won’t respond. Just tell me what’s wrong and I’ll fix it.

Farkle: Nothing you can do. Or anybody. I’m cursed. This is just something I have to deal with on my own.

Isadora scoffs and rolls her eyes.

Isadora: You’re being such a little bitch right now.

Farkle, surprised: Excuse me?

Isadora: You’ve been spaced out for days, you drop out of the showcase, you hide yourself away from everybody. Fine, do what you have to do. But at least tell me why. Don’t just sit there moaning like a crybaby about dealing with it by yourself. If you tell me, then you don’t have to do it alone. Simple.

Farkle: But there’s nothing you can do to help. Why bother you with my stuff when you’re so stressed already?

With a sigh, Isadora sits down next to him.

Isadora: You being all depressed and closed off is one of the main things stressing me out, for your information.

Farkle: [ relenting ] Fine. My therapist told me that I’m bipolar.

And there it is. Out in the open, even if Farkle looks extremely sulky while saying so. Isadora nods at the reveal, not all that surprised.

Isadora: That makes sense. It was one of the things I suspected you might have.

Farkle: One of?

Isadora: Oh, I had a whole list of possible diagnoses for you. How are you dealing with it? You don’t seem particularly happy about it.

No kidding. Farkle explains how he’s struggling to grapple with the diagnosis, and how it’s thrown his entire sense of identity into question. Isadora listens to him carefully, nodding along while she thinks.

Isadora: I get that. When my social worker first told me that she suspected I might be autistic, I hated it. I only knew about autism through Rain Man and Sheldon Cooper, so I wasn’t thrilled. I thought it meant that I was an antisocial freak who could never make friends. But as I learned more about it, the more I like… made sense to myself. It wasn’t just me against the world anymore -- there were other people out there like me, who understood me.

Farkle: I’ve been researching a lot, but that hasn’t helped.

Isadora: Have you joined any online communities? Read about it from an actual bipolar person’s perspective?

Farkle admits that he hasn’t, so Isadora suggests that he do that.

Isadora: I know that right now it’s scary -- like your entire world has changed and you no longer fit into it. But you’re still the same Farkle, and we’re still the same world. Nothing has changed except for a label; a label which will allow you to access resources that will actually help you.

Farkle: What helped you come to terms with your diagnosis?

Isadora: Lucas and Riley. I got diagnosed in middle school, and I didn’t really have any friends then. When I started at Triple A, I did a lot of research on how to cope in high school and make friends. It all felt way too forced and awkward, and I was so sure that I would never have any. That because of the way I was, I would also be an outcast. [ a beat as she remembers ] With Lucas, everything happened naturally. We just clicked, and started to spend almost all our time together.

Farkle, under his breath: Codependency...

Isadora: He made me realize that I could have friends, and that I was enough exactly as I am. Then, sophomore year, Riley came along. I had to make an effort to be friends with her, there was compromise and a lot of learning moments. She helped me whenever I was struggling and didn’t judge me for my mistakes. They both accepted and loved me wholly. [ looking to Farkle ] I accept and love you wholly, Farkle. And I will be here to help you figure it out, I promise.

As Isadora gives him a warm smile, Farkle seems unable to speak. His eyes are glossy, but shining with something else too as he looks at her. He swallows before thanking her.

She stands up and offers him a hand.

Isadora: Will you come downstairs and participate now?

Despite not needing to, Farkle takes Isadora’s hand to help pull him up. Isadora lets go as soon as he’s up, but he’ll take it. As the bouncy and energetic percussion of “Seize the Day” slowly grows louder from below…

INT. SHOWDOWN FINALS VENUE - AUDITORIUM - DAY

Haverford is running through the tail-end of their opening number, giving an excellent show already. Considering Brandon gifted Charlie the opportunity to take the solo in the first place, he steps back into it effortlessly, so it’s not as though they’re completely hobbled without him. Still, the dancing isn’t quite as precise, not exactly as compelling, and Brandon lacks his earnest spark that left such an impression the first time around.

But they’re not at all out of the race. They’re still intimidating competition to be up against, and they’re leaving nothing to chance. The applause is effusive as the lights dim and they wrap up the Newsies number, quickly rearranging formation to get ready for the next one.

This is when Charlie makes his entrance, quietly moving through the house and finding a couple free seats in the back center section. He settles into a spot just as Haverford is beginning their second, new number, the lights brightening again.

Song Cue ♫ ♪ “Sherry” as performed by Franki Valli & The Four Seasons || Performed by Haverford Seniors

Dweezil starts us off front and center, the rest of the boys standing in formation behind him as the jaunty, rhythmic orchestration kicks off. He takes the lead due to his impressive falsetto, and when he starts to step along in some simple movements to the beat, the boys layer in on the harmonies and echo his movements. It creates that same chilling, enchanting effect they showed us from their first performance in 301, the sensation of watching a machine in perfect sync.

And Brandon’s strategic adjustment of their setlist is on full display with their new choice. It’s indisputably classic, a callback to different times and classier days, which is a major deviation from AAA’s original contemporary setlist. The simple choreography allows them to emphasize their well-oiled machine feature, and the choice shows off their harmonies and vocal range just as much if not better than another pop hit from PRETTYMUCH.

It’s impossible not to tap your foot along, and without a doubt will butter up the older judges who feel rosy about that era. Say what you want about Brandon, but there’s no denying the man thinks of everything.

INT. SHOWDOWN FINALS VENUE - PARKING GARAGE - DAY

Nigel, Yindra, and Zay finally arrive, wasting no time in hopping out of the car and booking it. Nigel freezes halfway around the front, eyes wide, while Zay scrambles to get out of the backseat with one good foot.

Nigel: Pass. I need a pass. Where do I get a pass?

Yindra: [ slamming the car door ] No time!

Nigel: I need a pass or I’m gonna get a ticket!

Yindra: THEN GET A TICKET.

Nigel lets out another exasperated yell, hoping for the best and starting to sprint after Yindra. Zay tries to hobble after them, but he’s not nearly fast enough.

Zay: Um, guys --

Nigel: Zay --

Zay: No, it’s fine. I’ll make it eventually. Go on without me. Save yourselves.

Nigel: I swear, damn Shakespearean tragedy in this trio --

Yindra glances between them, then back at Zay, conflicted. But she doesn’t want to leave him behind…

Yindra: Oh, for fuck’s sake.

EXT. SHOWDOWN FINALS VENUE - DAY

The three of them emerge from the garage and make for the steps up to the main entrance, Yindra now carrying Zay piggyback style while Nigel takes the lead. He makes it to the top of the steps, shouting for them to hurry up.

Yindra: Excuse me, you’re not the one carrying another person! No, I had to because of your frail vegetarian bones!

Nigel: Vegetarianism has nothing to do with your bones, in fact studies show it improves --

Yindra/Zay: NOT NOW.

Zay: Go, go, go!

Nigel holds open the door for them to zoom past, diving in after them.

INT. SHOWDOWN FINALS VENUE - DRESSING ROOM - DAY

The A class has assembled in the dressing room together while the Havies finish their set. They’re mostly all dressed up and ready to go, though it’s obvious elements of their costumes are missing.

The girls are dressed in shimmery leotards with intricate detailing on the bodices, alternating in either silver or gold, and lower halves that are closer to shorts than an actual leotards would be. The only exception is Yindra’s, still hanging on the rack, which is ruby red. They also vary in sleeve length, some closer to tanks while others have long sleeves similar to this. The boys are dressed in red dress shirts that appear to match the design of the leotards, but they’re currently concealed under sleek but breathable black suit jackets, and their pants are silky and alternate in either silver or gold.

On top of traditional stage makeup, the girls also have a bit of rouge to accent the color scheme and bright red lips. Every single one of the performers has shimmery gold eyeshadow accenting their eyeliner, and Darby and Chai are taking careful care to give each of them a sprinkling of crimson rhinestones just around the corners of their eyes.

Riley is just finishing up pinning her hair, styled so it’s tumbling stylishly over one shoulder but will hold. She’s been trying to keep it cool all afternoon but the nerves are starting to creep up on her now -- especially since once again so many of them are missing down to the wire. Maybe they won’t be able to pull it together in the nick of time after all…

Isadora is also feeling the pressure, marching back into the dressing room with Farkle in tow. Her tenderness from that conversation is long gone. Darby gestures Farkle over to get his crimson added, while Isadora threatens to implode over the fact that certain people still aren’t here. Are they trying to send her into cardiac arrest? Maya raises her eyebrows from where she’s volumizing her award-winning golden locks, fussing it up with her hands to give it that starkissed quality.

Maya: Wow. Is that what I sound like?

Yogi: Most of the time, yes.

Maya: Well. Happy to hear I sound like a passionate, intense woman with vision.

Chai tries to calm Isadora, tentatively reaching out and patting her shoulder. Isadora allows the touch, willing to take serenity from any source right now.

Sarah, Missy, and Nate all rush into the room at the same time, claiming that they’ve bought them a little more time. Sarah says she complained to one of the stage managers so much about something nitpicky that they almost started crying, so now they’re pausing to fix it; Nate straight up just stole one of the announcers microphones and hid it so now they’re stalling to look for it. And Missy paid off one of the stagehands to get the crowd to do a 7th-inning style stretch like in baseball, just for theater nerds.

Darby: Seriously? I didn’t think they’d go with something silly like that.

Missy: When someone slides over a few hundreds, people will do anything.

Maybe so. If it buys them even a few more minutes before they have to get ready to hit their marks, so be it.

Thankfully, the cavalry rolls up just in time. Nigel and Yindra race through the doors, everyone exclaiming palpable relief. Yindra waves them all off and immediately grabs her leotard to start changing, wondering if they’ve gotten the rest of their costumes yet. Zay limps in a few moments later, everyone greeting him cheerfully in spite of their anxieties.

Riley slides over and pulls him into a tight hug.

Riley: I’m so glad you came.

Zay: Yeah, well, I’ve got good friends and am attracting wake-up calls like a magnet these days. Honestly, if this one could be the last one for a while, I’d appreciate it.

With that, Zay wishes all of them the best of luck, assuring them he’ll be out there cheering them on. They cheer him off, then frantically go back to pulling themselves together.

The last missing link swoops in just as Zay disappears, Jade entering to great fanfare with Dave, Jeff, and Lucas on her heels. They’re carrying the last remaining costume pieces, basically hot off the sewing machine, Jade holding a pretty-looking gauzy fabric in her arms while the boys are holding bulkier items.

Jade: Okay, now we’re ready to roll.

Riley, in awe: Jade, you are a genius.

All of them gleefully commend Jade for her hard work, swarming the boys to get their last costume piece -- for the girls, blazers similar to the ones the boys already have. But they’re glossy silver and gold, at least as far as we can see. Nigel is staring at Jade, mouth parted open, once again struck by how she manages to pull off the impossible.

Jade: Make sure you’re picking one that matches your leotard, and remember when you do the reverse to move gently, even though you’re moving fast. These are durable, but you don’t want to risk tearing it apart in the middle of the set.

Then Jade gestures Yindra forward, handing off the last piece to her. She tells her how to put it on and fasten it correctly, and also how to remove it correctly while still allowing for showy flair. But she knows she can handle it -- and it was custom-made for her, so.

Yindra: My very own Jade Beamon original. [ with a grin ] Coveted rite of diva passage.

Jade beams. But their nice moment is interrupted -- and from a very uncommon source of interruption, at that.

Nigel, boldly: Jade.

She jumps lightly, swiveling to find him. Yindra makes a face, stepping back a bit, and it’s like the seas part for them to be able to see each other. The entire A class goes silent -- a rare feat -- watching the interaction with rapt interest.

Jade: … yes?

Well, he’s done it now. Now is the moment to say what he needs to say -- if he fumbles it now, he may not ever get the frenzied courage to speak again. He takes a deep breath, holding her gaze, speaking confidently even though he’s breathless.

Nigel: You are the most incredible person I’ve ever met.

Jade has stopped breathing, standing like a deer in headlights at the center of the room. She knows all eyes are on her, and that shy part of her core is quaking… but there’s a hopeful gleam in her eyes, too. An electricity that doesn’t let her look away, doesn’t let her even think about escape. And she doesn’t want to anyway. This moment is something she’s daydreamed about since she was fourteen... is it finally actually happening…

Jade: … yeah?

Nigel: Yes. You outshine everything else. You never cease to amaze me, you consistently pull off the impossible. You’re insanely talented, and yet you’re one of the most down-to-earth people I know. I like down-to-earth.

With each statement, Nigel slowly closes the distance between them, coming to join her at the center. She doesn’t stop him, not able to do anything but keep looking at him.

Nigel: I like you.

Jade: Oh.

Nigel: And I know I’m quiet, and hesitant, and don’t usually speak my mind. I’ve been distracted, and clueless, and some have even called me a chickenshit.

Yindra, quietly: Well, we don’t need to bring that up right now...

Nigel: I know all that, and I know it hurt you. It made you unsure, and I completely get that. But I’m not distracted now. I’ve got a clue. And I’m not scared anymore.

He’s right in front of her now, only a bit of space between them. Jade gazes up at him, holding her ground, but that hopeful gleam has spread into an aura. It’s bouncing between them, it’s filling up the room.

Nigel, softly: And I don’t know if I’ll ever stop being quiet --

Jade: … I like quiet…

Nigel: But I’m speaking up now. I’ll speak as loud as I need to make sure you hear it. I like you. I like you, Jade Beamon. And if you’re not too busy being the incredible woman you are… I’d like to take you on a date.

Whew! The class is holding their breath, riveted like it’s their very own TV show, waiting to see what happens next. There’s a pause, a beat of uncertainty where we don’t know what direction things are going to go… and then Jade breaks into a smile.

Jade: Yeah. [ nodding eagerly ] Yeah, okay, I’d like that.

VICTORY! Not the main one of the evening, but a victory nonetheless. Nigel mirrors her smile, obviously relieved, as the Yogi starts an uproarious clap that the rest of the class echoes. Once they’ve just a few moments to soak it in, Lucas clears his throat.

Lucas: This is nice, and everything, but is it really the best time…

Nigel snaps his head to look at him, smile dropping. His expression is incredulous.

Nigel: Are you kidding me? For real? As if you all haven’t been making dramatic scenes and making everything about you for the last three years?!

Maya: Well.

Nigel: But no, I make one statement one time --

Yindra, to Darby: I swear, whatever Nigel is on today, I want some of it.

His (perhaps righteous) tirade towards the mains is cut short, though, an usher popping his head in and explaining that they finally found that missing microphone. So they should be backstage for places in about five minutes and counting.

That’s one way to get everyone back on track. Lucas tells Dave and Nate to go head backstage, the two of them exchanging quick bro hugs with Dylan, Asher, and Jeff and wishing them luck before they zoom off. Lucas takes one last second to reach Riley, taking her hand and accepting the brief kiss she gives him automatically. They keep their foreheads pressed together, pretending for an instant amidst the chaos that it’s just the two of them.

Lucas: You look amazing. You’re going to kill this thing.

Riley: Ditto. [ breathy ] I love you.

Lucas nods, opening his mouth as if he’s going to respond. Like he’s going to say it back, like it’s right on the tip of his tongue… but it doesn’t come. Not yet. He kisses her again instead, pointedly, then he pulls away and dashes out after Nate and Dave. Missy eyes him as he goes, expression hard to read.

Riley takes a deep breath, holds it, lets it go, and spins to rally the troops together. She gathers them in a circle and Maya leads them in an empowering but kickass -- and classically Maya -- pep talk to hype them up. Then Dylan takes the lead, putting his hand in the middle. The rest of them follow without hesitation, and he leads them in the war-cry pump-up ritual he usually leads the techies in before shows. Let’s go, Triple A. Let’s go, Triple A. LET’S GO, TRIPLE A --

Then they throw their arms in the air, full to bursting with infectious energy as they look towards the ceiling -- or in this case, at us, looking down on them from above.

LET’S GO!

Break 2.

INT. SHOWDOWN FINALS VENUE - LOBBY - DAY

A couple of light dings and the venue lights dimming and rising indicate to those mingling outside that the intermission between competitors is nearing its end. Charlie finishes the cup of water he was drinking, tossing it into the recycling and turning to head back towards the auditorium -- when he locks eyes with Zay, also slowly making his way in that direction from the dressing room hall. Charlie approaches uncertainly.

Charlie: Hi.

Zay, awkwardly: Hey. [ eyeing his plain clothes ] What are you doing out here? Shouldn’t you be backstage, embroiled in a post-performance high?

Charlie: [ with a nervous laugh ] Actually, no. I chose not to perform.

Zay raises his eyebrows, surprised. His non-answer begs for further explanation, though, so Charlie shyly elaborates.

Charlie: It just didn’t feel right. Don’t get me wrong, it was fun, getting to be front and center for a time. Try something new. But going up against you all… I don’t know. Just didn’t feel like me.

Zay: I bet nefarious factors behind the scenes didn’t improve that feeling either.

Charlie: No, yeah… yeah, that didn’t help. [ with a shrug ] Oh well. Just one performance, right? No big deal.

But it is. It’s one of the biggest deals of the year, and they both know it. Charlie sacrificed his chance to be a part of it, and risked a lot more in telling them the truth so they could save their routine -- and yet, that doesn’t feel out of character for him at all. Zay knows all too well.

Zay: Well, at least you didn’t fully turn yourself over to the dark side. [ off his amused head shake ] I guess it’s nice to hear that even with all the other changes, you’ve managed to remember who you are.

Charlie: … maybe, yeah. But thanks. That means a lot, coming from you.

He should know, as perhaps the only person who ever really knew him in the first place. The sentiment lingers between them, trapping them back in that uncertain space of not knowing exactly where they stand. It looks like Charlie wants to say more, but the intercom dings again, signaling that Adams’ performance is imminent.

Charlie: It’s great you could be here to support them, though. Even though you can’t perform yourself. [ a beat ] I’ve got a seat open next to me… you know, if you haven’t settled anywhere yet.

Another beat of hesitancy… and then Zay nods.

Zay: Since the rest of my crew is a little busy… yeah. That’d be cool.

Just the right amount of arrogance and graciousness, and a perfect dose of Zay. Charlie smiles instinctively, the two of them heading towards the doors together.

INT. SHOWDOWN FINALS VENUE - AUDITORIUM - DAY

The lights dim, the announcer introducing Adams Academy of the Arts as the next showcase. The curtain is closed, and behind it the performers are heading to their places. Dave, Nate, and Jade, dressed in all black, are gearing up their rolling flats backstage for when they’re needed. A few rows of steps have been installed in the back leading to a high point where a doorway disappears to backstage, but nearly all of the A class is arranged in windows in front of it on the stage. They’re facing away from the audience, which is nice, because it gives them the chance to steel themselves before the number truly kicks off and the games begin.

Riley weaves through her classmates, wishing them all good luck as she finds her place on the stage. And just in the nick of time, as the announcers are just wrapping up their summary of their team and passing them the floor.

INT. SHOWDOWN FINALS VENUE - TECHNICIAN’S BOOTH - DAY

Lucas is up in the booth, headset on, fitting in surprisingly well with the rest of the professional technicians working the event. He’s on the lighting board, sound levels a reach away, and the other workers give him a wide berth to do whatever he needs to do. His glare is determined.

INT. SHOWDOWN FINALS VENUE - AUDITORIUM - DAY

So, without further ado… Riley takes a deep breath, centering herself. The curtain rises...

It’s now or never. The time has finally come for Adams to showcase everything they’ve got -- and they are going to damn well try.

Song Cue ♫ ♪ “There She Goes! / Fame” as performed by Fame - The Musical Original Cast || Performed by Yindra Amino (feat. AAA Seniors)

We’ve heard this track before, back in Maya’s dream sequence, but it’s got a new coat of paint and we’re turning the volume up to eleven. Yindra appears at the top of the stairs to kick off the vocals, the A class still theatrically turned towards her. Her full costume is now apparent, the final piece a sheer gauzy red dress wrap, similar to what Taylor Swift wore on her reputation Tour. It’s vibrant and saucy, perfect to swish and flick as Yindra steals the show.

About thirty seconds in she begins her descent down the stairs, Dylan and Jeff jogging up the steps to meet her and guide her down. When they get close to the bottom, they lift her by the arms and do a spin, placing back down as the A class parts to let her through. She makes it through the class and playfully flirts with most of them as she goes, matching the tone of the number effortlessly. She makes it back to the steps just in time for the belt before the dance break, lifting her arms to the sky and swinging her hips.

Everything is beautiful up here in the clouds!

Then we jump into the dance, really allowing the A class to take flight. They sharply in unison, demonstrating only the first tastes of Zay’s savvy choreography. Yindra makes it back to the front to lead the pack when they get to the chorus (“Fame! I wanna live forever…”)

Then an unexpected soloist takes over when we switch into Spanish, Asher jumping to the front and channeling diva. He’s the only boy with his suit jacket unbuttoned, letting more red bleed through and also helping him stand out. The reason he can stomach taking on the challenge is clear with Dylan right behind him, acting as his dance partner and taking center stage with him when they shift to the salsa bit at 2:20. The rest of the A class has paired off too, including Haley & Clarissa, Jeff & Yindra, Isadora & Chai, and Farkle & Riley.

Asher delivers a killer vocal run, and it appears he has been doing his stretches since “If I Didn’t Have You” in 302, because this time when Dylan dips him at the transition, they nail it perfectly.

Then the dance truly takes over, the front of the stage clearing for solo dance moments to take spotlight. This starts with Haley, doing a few ballet moves, and then passes to other classmates -- Chai, Maya with a dazzling split and leg kick. But the true star of the dance break is Jeff, bringing those promised break dance moves and earning cheers from the audience. Then he and Yindra dance together for the remainder of the break, making impressive salsa partners and definitely fulfilling a daydream for her little lesbian crush on him.

As the dance break winds down, Yindra makes her way back up the steps, the boys chasing her up, so that when she starts again on the pre-chorus (“I’m on top of the charts…”), she can lean on them effortlessly. She slides across Dylan’s shoulders and then leans into a lift, Dylan, Farkle, Nigel, and Yogi holding her sideways across them and bringing her back down to the stage. On the next line (“I’m on top in their hearts…”), the boys rotate her around before depositing her front and center stage again.

As she launches into the final chorus at about 3:45, Yindra backs into dead center as her classmates weave in circles around her, the vocals and energy building in intensity. The lights glow from their rosy, warm hues and transition closer and closer to red. On the last line, Yindra gives it her all, allowing Dylan and Nigel to lift her up onto their shoulders high above the rest as she throws her arms up in a final declarative diva pose.

Remember my name!

The lights turn blood red, casting the A class in shadow. The resounding applause is well earned. Zay and Charlie are on the edge of their seats, clapping enthusiastically. Assuming correctly that that was the dance standout of the set, Charlie braves nudging Zay with his elbow, which he glances at and then smiles in return.

Backstage, though, Haverford seems less pleased. This is not at all what they saw from semis. Brandon glowers with his arms crossed, Billy shaking his head in frustration behind him.

On stage, the A class works quickly in the brief transition. Nigel strips off his suit jacket and hands it to Yindra, who has just stripped off her sheer dress and is now down to her ruby leotard that otherwise matches her peers. She slips on the jacket while the other A class girls take theirs off and flip them inside out, now also black like the boys. Nate darts on stage to grab the discarded dress and then all the boys disperse, leaving just the A class girls on stage in a line with their heads downcast. The anticipation builds…

Song Cue ♫ ♪ “The Man” as performed by Taylor Swift || Performed by AAA Senior Ladies

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

Maya brings the setlist back to life, tilting her chin up and launching into the first verse. She moves sharply but fluidly, reanimating each of her fellow girls as she struts and spins past them along the front of the stage. When she reaches the end and spots Brandon scowling in the wings, she gives him a cocky little head tilt, flipping her hair as she spins back around.

Every conquest I made would make me more of a boss to you

Riley takes over from there as the “fearless leader,” and from there it’s a strong, upbeat showing from the senior A class women. Each one has a solo, as indicated by the lyric sheet, and the choreography is simple but effective. Their reversible blazers show off Jade’s creative costuming as well as echo the presence of the boys in the previous number, driving home the theme.

Brandon isn’t the only one who can strategize a setlist. With this female-dominated interlude, Adams not only showcases one of the biggest assets they have against Haverford -- women -- they essentially get a fun musical fuck-you towards them out of it too.

All the girls come together for the end of the number, creating a sisterhood-type formation with their arms around each other and at varying levels -- crouching, standing straight, etc. -- while Maya stands front center. She delivers the airy final lyrics, a teasing smile on her lips as she smirks at the audience.

If I was a man… then I’d be the man…

The lights dim again, darkening the stage for transition into the final number in AAA’s setlist. Eric glances to his program, eyes widening in surprise. He elbows Harper and leans over to talk to both her and Jack.

Eric: They did everything for this by themselves?

Harper nods proudly. That’s right! And as for why Eric is so surprised, we’re about to find out. This is the time to make a lasting impression… as the lights rise on Adams’ final number…

Song Cue ♫ ♪ “Bellas Finals Mash Up” as performed by Pitch Perfect Original Cast || Performed by AAA Seniors

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

Okay, quick disclaimer. The mash-up performed here is not the same arrangement as the Barden Bellas. But we aren’t mash-up creators, nor would we ever pretend to be (I only write fake lyrics on TV), and this performance has the perfect ebb and flow of how we envision the A class’s final track unfolds. So while we’re providing a lyric sheet and encouraging you to listen to the song to get immersed in what the performance would feel like, keep in mind that it wouldn’t be the exact same songs and arrangement.

But it is impressive, because for the A class mash-up, they put it together all on their own. Farkle, Nate, and Clarissa wrote and arranged the conglomeration of songs, and they made it a capella for easier preparation. So it’s nothing but high energy and the A class harmonizing powerfully throughout -- putting a dent in Haverford’s usual boast of having mastery of harmonies unlike anyone else.

The A class starts demurely on stage, back in group formation, Nigel at the front to kick us off. His smooth, unassuming tenor is perfect for the gentle opening, easing the crowd back into the music before the performance erupts in a burst of sound, movement, and energy. All of them strip off their suit jackets and toss them aside, Yogi energetically taking over the next part of the mash-up with more of a rap-like, fast-paced cadence. With the suit jackets gone, Jade’s designs finally shine at full power -- intricate and mesmerizing design on both the leotards and dress shirts, each one the slightest bit unique yet a united aesthetic, creating a shimmering, captivating visual like firelight as they move and dance. Behind them, Nate and Dave inconspicuously but groovily swoop and grab all of the discarded jackets that didn’t make it backstage, both not meant to be noticed and yet seamlessly a part of the performance.

As the mash-up transitions into a more thoughtful ballad type -- though that infectious engine is still running underneath it all -- Riley takes the reins, bringing her usual level of enchantment as she moves along to the beat and weaves around her classmates, dancing with each of them.

When she makes it back to the front for the pseudo-bridge (“As you walk on by… will you call my name…”) and the A class moves into a new triangle formation behind her, she raises her gaze upward and towards the booth. Even though she can’t see him through the lights…

INT. SHOWDOWN FINALS VENUE - TECHNICIAN’S BOOTH - DAY

The intent behind the moment is clear. She’s looking to Lucas, a secret message shared between the two of them. A small smile blooms on his face, and he reaches for a slider…

INT. SHOWDOWN FINALS VENUE - AUDITORIUM - DAY

And the spotlight on Riley brightens, just enough that she’d notice. Her smile widens, already dazzling in show business mode, and she launches into the choreography at the tail-end of her segment around about 1:40 with deeper enthusiasm than ever. Her classmates back her up, all of them moving in unison until they swap numbers again, Isadora taking over.

Then Chai jumps in, having a trio moment at the front with Darby and Sarah as they slide through their section of the mash-up. Then Jeff pipes up, doing an AMBITION first as he raps on the next bit with Yogi backing him up. Farkle theatrically pushes between both of them to take his solo (the Rebel Wilson one, though he sings it a lot less… oddly than she does), seemingly back in shape diva wise at least for this one slice of performance. He and Isadora pass the vocal runs back and forth, spinning around each other and half-dancing together, backing away from each other as the build to the final act comes to fruition.

Then Maya’s vocals pull out all the stops, up on the steps while Riley heads the front of the formation below. Dylan and Asher are right behind her as right and left hand -- until Dylan breaks rank to really bring the house down, running into a front flip across the stage. He pops upright, winks at the audience, then cartwheels and back handsprings the other way, before returning to his place for the last hurrah.

The audience is fully enthralled, on their feet and clapping along. Eric, Jack, and Harper can’t hold back their grins, pride shining in their eyes. Even Shawn seems genuinely impressed -- Angela wipes tears from her eyes. In the back, Charlie and Zay are basically dancing along as much as they can, cheering and clapping and both looking happier than they have in weeks.

And with that, there’s nothing to do but bring it on home. The A class delivers the final segment with everything they’ve got -- well-trained harmonies, dynamite energy, and their signature charm of lovable underdogs with nothing to lose.

With the last couple of lines they break formation and return back to the places they started at the very beginning of the setlist, stomping in unison and hitting their final marks. Then they spin and drop their heads down as the stage lights go out, back where they started. As if they could wind up and do it all over again, just as spectacularly, in a New York minute. Like it’s easy.

But it’s not. We know how hard it is -- we know how hard they worked. And they did it. Somehow, regardless of what happens next, they did it.

The curtain lowers, nearly the whole house on their feet to give them thunderous applause.

INT. SHOWDOWN FINALS VENUE - DRESSING ROOM - DAY

The A class is celebrating and destressing in the dressing room, all buzzing with post-performance hype and the rush of a great show. Farkle and Maya stand together and hug each other tight, the latter clinging to him like an emotional support beanpole.

Farkle: Doesn’t matter now, does it? All that matters is we did a good job and had fun, right? Or whatever people say.

Maya: Screw that. If we don’t win, I’m burning this motherfucker down.

Zay and Charlie poke their heads in, earning uproarious reactions from all of them. Haley and Clarissa immediately rush to tackle Charlie with hugs, while Zay is swarmed with cheers and praise for his choreography. It all turned out fantastic!

Yindra: Not that there was ever any doubt.

Charlie finds a moment to get a word in, stating that he needs to go congratulate Haverford and check in with them, but he wanted to be able to tell them all the same. They were spectacular, and it was so awesome to get to see it. They all thank him, and there's this clear sense in the air that he should’ve been there with him. He belonged up there with them.

But alas. Charlie makes his exit just as the techies return, and he gives them compliments as well as they pass. Jade is also quickly laden with praise -- her costumes were perfect and definitely stole the show. Nate and Dave ambush Dylan, Asher, and Jeff, pulling them into a giant glom hug and losing their shit about how epic they were. Like, Jeff! Your dancing! And Asher, your Spanish!

Nate: I didn’t even realize you were part Latino.

Asher: … wait, seriously?

Dave: [ shaking Dylan’s shoulders happily ] And when you did the flip! And the backward flip!

Isadora watches them fondly, shaking her head, only looking away when she’s tapped on the shoulder. Chai is there, offering her a timid congratulations. They did it! And she did an amazing job with her solos.

Well, with all the extra hours she put in for her dancing… in a sudden move, Isadora reaches out and pulls Chai into a hug. Brief, but more than she allows or gives most people. It’s interesting, actually, how Chai manages to get her to do most things without thinking. Like a brashness she just brings out in her, or something.

But Chai doesn’t seem at all opposed. She’s surprised only for a moment, then she lightly returns the embrace, trying not to push it too far. When they pull away, Isadora’s touch lingers a bit longer than usual, like she isn’t sure what to do with her hands all the sudden.

Isadora: I couldn’t have joined and caught up without you, so. If I contribute at all to a victory, then it’s your contribution too.

Chai: In that case, I think we can call it a draw. [ off her confused look ] Without your friendship I wouldn’t have adjusted to coming back very well, or probably even thought to consider telling the A class about… you know, before it was almost forced out of me. And who knows where I’d be if all that were the case… anyway, I’m grateful. Funny how the most unexpected people change your life, huh?

Isadora: Yeah… it actually is.

Chai smiles, Isadora tentatively mirroring it.

Speaking of people who unexpectedly change everything… Lucas makes his way over to Riley, the latter brightening instantly when she sees him. She gives him a tight hug, and he lifts her off her feet momentarily before they break apart.

Riley: We pulled it off.

Lucas: If we manage to cinch this, you realize it’s all because of you, right? That entire thing, that was all you.

Riley, touched: … it was a team effort. But I suppose it won’t really mean much until we know.

Which could be any minute now… Riley touches his arm, getting his attention again.

Riley: I just want you to know I’m proud of you. No matter what happens with showdown.

Lucas: Again, it didn’t have much to do with me --

Riley: I’m not just talking about today. I’m talking about how you ran for president in spite of the odds, your initiative to make real change, how dedicated you are to putting them in motion. At Adams, but on your own. I know how far-off college and stuff felt to you during the summer, and now you’ve got submitted applications and new goals and a whole new future ahead of you. Not even new, but -- you’re finally seeing it, that potential that has always been there. I know that’s not nothing. I know how hard that was. But you did it. And even though it’s all stuff I knew you were capable of, every day you continue to blow me away. [ a beat ] It’s so good to see you starting to believe it too.

Wow. A lot to process, a lot of warm sentiment he wants to really take in and commit to memory forever. It’s difficult enough to process it, there’s no words in the world for him to respond with, so he settles for a smile and taking her hand instead. Lacing their fingers together, bonding them regardless of what might happen next.

Them against the world. Riley beams, squeezing his hand in return.

Perfect timing, too, because the time has come. A stagehand pops in and informs them it’s time for the announcement of the winners, beckoning them all onto stage. Yindra insists to Zay that he come with them for this -- he deserves to be up there just as much as they do.

Silence hangs over us as they head out…

INT. SHOWDOWN FINALS VENUE - BACKSTAGE HALL - DAY

The intrusive quiet follows as the A class makes their way through the backstage area, arriving back at the wings. All the anticipation of this final result building on our shoulders…

INT. SHOWDOWN FINALS VENUE - AUDITORIUM - DAY

The announcers are teeing up the big final reveal as the A class files out, Haverford populating the other side, but it’s all muffled and quiet around us. Brandon and Maya exchange a sharp glare. Yindra and Nigel each keep one of Zay’s arms around their shoulders, holding him steady as they take the stage. Lucas, Dave, Nate, and Jade hang back in the wings, Dave wrapping Jade in a hug from behind and propping his chin on her head.

Evelyn has joined us for the final reveal, the guest announcer who gets the distinct privilege as head of the school board to announce the victor. And what an honor it is! She gives a little speech about how it’s so clear both groups worked hard, put in the time and the effort, and have more than enough talent to spare. But alas, only one can win.

Evelyn: So let’s get to what you’re all waiting for -- the results. Without further ado, the winner of the 2020 Senior Showdown: Manhattan is…

It’s the most excruciating wait in the world. Zay clasps Riley’s shoulder from behind, squeezing tight. Haley links her arm tight with Clarissa’s and closes her eyes; Asher hides behind Dylan and tucks his head against his back, their hands clasped together. Maya reaches to take Farkle and Isadora’s hands, flanked on either side of her.

In the audience, Harper grips both Jack and Eric’s arms, all of them on the edge of their seats. Charlie is alone in the back but rapt with attention, hands clasped together in front of his mouth. He’s holding his breath, a prayer shining in his eyes -- but who he’s directing those wishes towards, it’s impossible to say…

And then in a moment, it’s done.

Evelyn: Congratulations to the talented seniors of Adams Academy for the Arts!

The chaos is instantaneous. The audience erupts into cheer as the A class breaks free from their paralysis, bursting into joyful hysteria. The Adams faculty leap out of their seats with equal elation, relieved and overwhelmed with pride. Now Angela isn’t the only one crying -- Eric and Harper have joined her with their own tears. Charlie applauds wildly, shouting out a cheer.

But nothing can compare to the mood within the class. It’s impossible to describe. Dylan picks up Asher and spins him around. Riley whips around and rams into Zay to hug him, shaking with excitement. Nigel runs off stage and pulls Jade out to join them, grasping her hand the entire time, and Dave and Nate eagerly follow. Darby, Chai, and Sarah jump in a hug together, and Yogi does a victory yodel.

Farkle pulls Isadora and Maya to him in a bone-crushing hug, before releasing the latter to go accept the trophy for Adams from the announcers. She faux graciously accepts the trophy and then turns to have a good, old-fashioned “good game” handshake with Brandon. They appear pleasant enough to the audience, but their grip on each other is vice tight.

Then the humility is over, the Haverford boys retreat, and Maya holds up the trophy for them all to see. VICTORY, BITCHES! They all swarm to center stage to meet her and it, dizzy with their change in fortune.

Except Riley. She heads in the opposite direction, marching into the wings straight for Lucas. She doesn’t hesitate the moment she reaches him, pulling him into a deep, enthusiastic kiss. Lucas returns it, too lost in the euphoria for a moment to be self-conscious, gripping her waist to keep her steady and pull her closer.

An undeniably beautiful moment -- save for the way Missy eyes it disdainfully from amidst the celebrating circle of her peers.

But even her potential jealousy can’t spoil the mood. They did it -- Adams Academy are the champions of senior showdown.

EXT. SHOWDOWN FINALS VENUE - NIGHT

Night has descended upon them over the course of the event, the driveway and streets around the venue bright with headlights as ride shares and drivers make their way home.

Charlie is standing in the cold evening air, hands stuffed in his pockets and breath creating steam in front of him. He perks up when he spots who he’s waiting for, Brandon emerging from the building and descending the steps. His expression is grim in the wake of Haverford’s loss, and it doesn’t bounce back to its usual crisp confidence quite so effortlessly when he finds Charlie at the bottom of the steps.

Brandon: Charles. Don’t see any reason for you to be hanging around this late -- considering you weren’t a participant.

Charlie: Yeah, I know. I just wanted… I was hoping to catch you before you left. You weren’t in the room when I caught up with the boys before the results, so…

So. Brandon grants him a moment, standing opposite him and raising his eyebrows. Go on. Charlie clears his throat.

Charlie: I wanted to say how great I thought you guys were. You killed the set. And “Sherry” was a great choice. I’m sorry I doubted it.

Brandon: Not good enough, apparently. But thank you.

Charlie: … it’s okay that you didn’t win. I hope you know that. Six years is a heavy burden to carry on your shoulders. At least now you’re free of it, right?

Brandon: I suppose that’s one way to look at ending a proud tradition every senior class before you has pulled off seamlessly. Though I can’t deny the A class gave an impressive showing. [ a beat ] Interesting, how they completely reset their entire performance. It was nothing like what I’d heard about it.

Oop. For just an instant, Charlie panics, but he recovers quickly.

Charlie: Yeah, well, Riley told me they just felt like they needed to switch things up. Get a fresh start, you know? Kind of like your thinking with “Sherry.” Safe doesn’t win showdown, right?

Brandon: [ not buying it ] Sure.

Either way, Charlie thinks they did well, and they have nothing to be ashamed of for not winning. He’ll do his best to try and bolster spirits on Monday. A charming offer, one which Brandon merely nods to acknowledge. For now, at least in the immediate aftermath of stinging failure, the new kid warmth he displayed towards Charlie is long gone.

Still, he can’t relinquish having the last word. After Charlie bids him goodnight and starts down the sidewalk, Brandon suddenly calls after him.

Brandon: Charles.

Charlie stops, turning to look at him again. Not sure what to expect -- a reprimand? The fabled dark side everyone keeps alluding to? Maybe a thank you for his kind words?

Brandon offers none of the above. He maintains his chilly demeanor but infuses it with his usual suave delivery, giving him another nod.

Brandon: Enjoy the rest of your weekend.

To Charlie, this simply seems nice. A good sign if nothing else. He smiles, then continues on his journey home. But when Brandon spins back to face the street, his expression is far from pleasant.

Perhaps he’s granting Charlie one last courtesy. He should enjoy this weekend as much as he can -- afterwards, perhaps enjoyment may not be so easy to find.

INT. AAA - ATRIUM - DAY

Sunday morning, bright and early, the school is more populated than usual. A small group is present to watch HARLEY KEINER unlock the trophy case and load their new one into it, placing it front and center with the utmost care. Jack is there to supervise, while Lucas, Dylan, and Asher came to witness the moment for themselves.

Dylan: Thanks for your service, sir.

Harley: Oh, no no, thank you. It’s been too many years since I got to update the display with this bad boy -- props to you folks for bringing him home.

And what a happy homecoming it is! Lucas steps forward to look for himself, the gleaming proof of his victory staring back at them. Representative of all the money about to come their way, to fund his initiative at least for a time.

He can’t help but grin, spinning back around to face the others. He loftily holds his arms out, sauntering forward and giving a cheeky bow. Then another, really milking the moment. Dylan and Asher break into theatrical applause, allowing him the silliness.

Lucas: Thank you, thank you very much.

They meet him in the middle and both throw their arms around his shoulders, and Lucas doesn’t shy away from the contact. Dylan starts playfully singing the chorus “We Are the Champions,” Asher quickly harmonizing, and even Lucas joins in as they amble towards the doors.

Lucas/Dylan/Asher: No time for losers, cause we are the champions!

Dylan: OF THE WOOOOOOORLD --

Jack watches them go, amused at their antics. Soaking in the moment of pride, of peace, in the school that despite its hell, he loves more than anything. He crosses his arms and meanders his way back to his office, humming the Queen song to himself as if it’s contagious.

INT. BABINEAUX HOME - ZAY’S BEDROOM - DAY

Despite it not being anywhere near the way he imagined it, Zay finally submits his application to Turner. And this time in facing it he’s not alone, Yindra and Nigel both plopped on the bed next to him and encouraging him to do it right up until the moment it’s official.

He thanks them for everything, acknowledging Nigel’s argument that he’s glad he didn’t miss showdown. Nigel agrees it’s definitely going to be something they remember for a long time, especially now with the sweet addition of victory.

Yindra: Um, yeah, and how am I ever gonna forget your big speech to Jade? Like hello?

Zay: It was pretty ballsy. We might have to tell him about the contingency plan.

Yindra: Ooh… are we sure? Do we think he’s ready?

Nigel: What plan?

Yindra: We need a Michelle, Zay. Do we think he has what it takes to be a Michelle?

Nigel: To be a whomst?

Yindra and Zay exchange a conspiratorial look. Yindra claims this is their big plan for success, if their own solo endeavors don’t pan out.

Zay: So. Destiny’s Child --

INT. THERAPIST’S OFFICE - NIGHT

Farkle is meeting with DR. MICHELLE HAN again after a week or so of avoiding her, in his usual spot on the couch. But this time he’s sitting upright, and he’s got company -- both STUART MINKUS and JENNIFER MINKUS are with him. Nervous but resolute, Farkle claims that he’s ready to discuss the bipolar diagnosis further, especially in figuring out where they go from here and what he can do to live with it.

Dr. Han is pleased, happy to oblige. She tells him she’s glad he came around to it on his own terms, then begins to discuss the nuances of the condition. Jennifer glances to Farkle next to her, placing her hand on his forearm and giving it a supportive squeeze.

INT. YINDRA’S CHURCH - NIGHT

Charlie enters a large church we recognize as Yindra’s, only much more empty on a weekday evening than Sunday morning. The lights are all on, and there are various people dotted around. The PASTOR, an elderly black man with a wise aura and mischievous gleam in his eyes, is talking pleasantly with two elderly ladies to the side.

They eye Charlie as he walks past them towards the rows of seats. He has a lightness about him that wasn’t there the last time we saw him in his own church, but there are still remnants of his usual anxious state.

He walks up to the stage that Yindra and the gospel choir performed on and stops in the forestage. There are three banners decorating the wall in front of him, in white, purple and blue, featuring the cross, ichthys, and a flame. A very different vibe from his usual Catholic church, but comforting all the same.

Once he’s free of the church ladies, the pastor approaches Charlie.

Pastor: Hello, young man. What brings you here at this time of night?

Charlie: Hi. Sorry if I’m intruding at all. [ off his nod of reassurance ] I came here the other week with my friend Yindra -- Yindra Amino, in the choir?

Pastor: Ah, yes. I know the Aminos quite well. Yindra is a lovely girl.

Charlie: I’m Catholic, but it just seemed so happy and… cool here, so I… well, I have something I need to say to God, and I ended up here. I hope that’s okay.

Pastor: Of course. We welcome everybody, always. [ with a warm smile ] I’ll leave you and the big guy to it.

He gives him a fatherly pat on the shoulder, then leaves him be. Charlie takes a moment to collect his thoughts, looking up at the banners, and then kneels down. He takes his silver cross necklace out from under his clothes and holds onto the cross with one hand.

Charlie: God… [ with a sigh ] It’s been a long semester. And a long summer. Kind of a long life, to be honest. And lately I’ve been having to do a lot of self-reflection. I keep finding myself in these moments where I have to… make a tough call. Or get to the right decision. Do the right thing. And every time I think to myself maybe you’d just give me the answer, that these choices could be simple, but I get that they aren’t. They aren’t supposed to be. It shouldn’t be that easy to define who you are — you need a test, sometimes, to prove it. And while I feel like I’ve had my fair share of that, I get why you couldn’t just show me the way. I had to find it for myself. I have to get there on my own. I can’t expect you to give me guidance if I’m not ready for it. But I’m getting there, now, and… and part of that is...

Tell us who you are.

He takes a deep breath, and exhales.

Charlie: I’m gay. [ with a nervous chuckle ] But you already knew that, didn’t you? You’ve always known exactly who I am. It’s me who’s been playing catch up.

Charlie pauses, fiddling with the chain of his necklace. He’s not sure what he’s waiting for -- the lightning strike, maybe -- but nothing comes. Of course it doesn’t. He releases another breath, easier now, and continues.

Charlie: I’m starting to understand who I am. And who you are, too. I’m beginning to trust my own decisions, and put who and what I value most above my own comfort or ease. There’s still a lot to figure out, I know, and I’m a long way from the person I’m meant to be… but I feel like I’m on the right path. [ with more soft confidence ] I pray that you’ll be with me on that journey, and that you’ll continue to guide me. I’m sorry for blocking this part of me from you for so long. I’m going to try and be my authentic self as much as I can from now on — I’m starting to realize it’s not worth being anything else. [ quietly ] Amen.

He stands up and takes a moment, then heads back towards the church’s entrance. He can’t help the corners of his mouth turning up; a weight has been lifted off his shoulders, but he’s trying not to disturb the peaceful atmosphere of the building.

The pastor catches him before he leaves, asking if he managed to tell God what he needed to.

Charlie: I did, thank you.

Pastor, tactfully: Forgive me if it’s not my place to ask, but... is your church accepting of the LGBTQ+ community?

Charlie’s eyes go wide.

Charlie: How did you…?

Pastor: Call it a natural instinct… my husband tells me it’s called ‘gaydar?’

Charlie processes this new information. Both of them almost want to laugh -- it’s just a little bit funny, a unique kind of levity, spotting another religious gay in the wild -- then he shakes his head to his question.

Charlie: I grew up in a pretty strict household and church.

Pastor: Hm, I see. I’m aware of several Christian LGBTQ+ communities and churches in the city, if you’d be interested?

Charlie: I don’t know if… actually, yeah. That’d be really nice, thank you.

Pastor: I’ll put together a little list for you and tell Yindra to Snapchat it over to you. [ off his dubious expression ] Or whatever you kids are using now. Don’t look at me like that, I’m old.

Charlie thanks him with a laugh, at ease and genuinely happy. The pastor bids him farewell as he heads to the double doors with stained glass windows, through which the lights outside shine through, creating a pastel prism of color on the hardwood floor.

EXT. YINDRA’S CHURCH - NIGHT

Charlie steps back out into the night, closing his eyes and inhaling the frigid air. A light rain has started to fall, the whole world seeming to shine around him. It’s refreshing, invigorating -- or maybe that’s just the freedom of what he just did. It might all be in his head, it might not, but what it means to him is the realest thing there is.

He releases the breath he’s been holding for years, a light smile blooming on his face.

Song Cue ♫ ♪ “Party For One” as performed by Carly Rae Jepsen || Performed by Charlie Gardner

There was no way we were going to get through the entire midseason finale without Charlie performing. It wouldn’t be right. And he’s truly earned it this time, the uplifting percussion that kicks off the number almost heaven-sent.

He starts the vocals softly, breathing them out like his monumental exhale. Then he gets moving, hands still in his pockets, walking backwards along the sidewalk in step with the beat. His excitement builds through the verse and pre-chorus until he just can’t hold it in anymore. When the beat drops and the first chorus really hits, he breaks free, pulling his hands from his pockets and spinning into a dance.

He dances solo, unrestrained, continuing his journey as he goes. It’s energetic contemporary, skillful as always, and laced with that same frenetic melodrama that has defined his previous performances in his imagination. Only this time it’s joy -- pure, uninhibited joy -- that pumps that passion through his movements.

EXT. NEW YORK STREETS - NIGHT

Charlie carries on through the streets, loosening up as he goes. He unbuttons his coat, holds his arms out to soak in the rain. He runs his hands through his hair to brush the wetness from it, mussing it up in the process from the neatly combed way he’s been wearing it for weeks. Around him the city is a kaleidoscope, shimmering jewels in the night of reds, blues, purples, and gold.

EXT. CENTRAL PARK - NIGHT

By the second verse, he’s made it to Central Park, launching back into his fun and free choreography. He dances along benches, swings on lampposts like Singin’ in the Rain, and gets mud on his pants from slipping and sliding in the grass.

A little messy, but he doesn’t care. Why should he care when he’s free?

EXT. AAA - NIGHT

By the time he reaches the final minute, he’s arrived at the steps of Adams, closed and empty for the night but still brightly lit and welcoming. Inviting, like the feeling of standing on your doorstep after a long journey home.

And this is where Charlie truly lets loose, the gleaming structure of AAA acting as the backdrop to his final expression of liberation. The dancing is really impressive now, spins and kicks and a couple of splits sprinkled in, but what’s most compelling about it is how much feeling it conveys. It’s hard to recognize you haven’t seen someone be authentic until you actually do, and that’s how this performance feels. His coat abandoned on the steps, his hair wild and free, skin glowing with rainwater and finally back on his beat.

This is Charlie’s showcase moment. And finally, the only audience that matters is himself.

I’ll just dance for myself, back on my beat!

When he wraps the rendition he lowers himself down into a slippery recline on the steps, breathing heavy but so worth it. He leans back on his palms, tilting his head up to the rain, to the stars, to whatever lies beyond waiting for him. Then he smiles, easy and effortless, laughing a bit to himself as the weather soaks him clean.

INT. HART APARTMENT - NIGHT

Katy, Maya, and Isadora are sharing the remnants of a pizza at their new kitchen counter, taking a dinner break from unpacking and starting to arrange the space. Katy reminds her that she absolutely does not need to hang around and help, but Isadora claims she doesn’t mind. She likes it, actually, and it’s exciting to see what they do with the place. But she actually should get going tonight -- school day tomorrow, and Eric will be wondering where she is.

As she gathers her things to head out, Katy suggests they grab breakfast at the diner tomorrow morning before school to celebrate. Her treat, for old times sake. As flattered as Isadora is by that offer, she can’t. She has a meeting she can’t miss first thing in the morning, but rain check. She doesn’t want to pass that up.

Katy and Maya bid her farewell, then descend into excited giggles as they launch onto their couch. Katy comments on how wonderful the view is too from this new apartment -- miles above their old one, anyway. Maybe everything happens for a reason… but God, is it good to be back with her girl. Especially one who is now a champion.

Maya grins, hugging her again and cuddling close. She tells her she’s so glad she’s home, more than she could ever express.

INT. MATTHEWS APARTMENT - MASTER BEDROOM - NIGHT

Riley is on her bed, the room starting to look a bit different as Maya’s stuff disappears. She’s got her laptop open, application for Tisch NYU the last one she has left to submit. Only hours left to decide if she’s going to go for it or not, if pursuing the arts for real is something she even wants to try.

CORY MATTHEWS knocks on the door, making a witty comment about how now that Maya is gone, maybe it’s time to switch rooms back… Riley claims they may as well just wait until she goes to college, right? Not worth all that effort to do it now when she’ll just move again in six months… Cory gives her a look, but he can’t help but smile at the same time. Clever girl…

He makes a point of congratulating her again, making sure she knows how proud he is of her.

Cory: Every day, I’m impressed with what a strong, mature, and clear leader you’ve become. I can’t wait to see all the amazing things you’re going to do next.

Riley smiles, touched. She climbs off her bed and swiftly rushes across the room to give him a quick hug and kiss on the cheek, thanking him, then darts back to her space before he can respond. He gives her another playful head shake, wishing her goodnight.

Once alone, it’s just her and the application. She hesitates for a moment longer, thinking on it… what does she have to lose?

Decisively, she hits submit. Putting the potential out there for good. No turning back now.

Riley, pre-lap: I did it. I smashed that submit button. It’s out there now.

INT. CHUBBIES - NIGHT

Riley and Zay are meeting at Chubbies for late weekend celebratory fries, even more necessary now with her brand new update. Zay congratulates her and expresses confidence that she’s got as good a chance of getting into Tisch as any of them -- and yes, that includes Maya. He raises his water glass to cheers their future endeavors, Riley matching it enthusiastically.

The mood is somewhat disrupted when Charlie walks through the door, spotting them in their usual booth. This time, though, the sight doesn’t immediately make him think of retreat -- in fact, it seems like exactly what he was hoping for.

He quickly approaches their table, greeting both of them. Riley is surprised by his presence but not at all opposed… although his appearance is a bit questionable. Has he just been standing around in the rain? His hair is a windswept, slick mess, but there’s no mud on his clothes, so at least that part of his freedom dance wasn’t quite so literal.

Riley: Do you want to sit down? I know you like fries, so --

Charlie: [ still a bit out of breath ] Actually, I was hoping to catch a second with Zay. [ glancing at him ] If that’s okay?

Unexpected, certainly. Riley looks to Zay as well, gauging his reaction, trying to determine if she should stay or go. Zay eyes Charlie curiously, uncertain though far less apprehensive than in the recent past… then nods. He signals to Riley it’s okay, and she gets up to give them privacy without complaint. Charlie thanks her, touching her arm and congratulating her once again, before sliding into her vacated spot across from Zay.

For a moment, it’s hard to speak. No matter how much either of them want to, how often they think about it when they’re not around, the moment they’re in front of each other again it’s like everything stops. Like they’re frozen in time, still cold in the aftermath of a mistaken first time. A choked surrender in the costume loft. A blindsiding separation without a proper goodbye.

But time keeps going. They get older, they learn, they grow -- and there’s no doubt that both of them have done a painful amount of growing in the last few months. The only question now is if they can catch up to each other and find common ground; if they can find a new way forward as they are now, or if they even should.

And to do that, they have to speak. Zay clears his throat, eyeing his rain-soaked attire.

Zay: So, did you forget your umbrella, or were you just wandering around in the rain again --

Charlie: I don’t want to do this anymore.

Oh. Well, that can sure mean a lot of things, Charlie. Zay goes silent, watching him warily to see where this is going to go. He’s not even sure himself, really, what he wants to hear. Thankfully, Charlie didn’t seem intent on stopping it there, letting out a sigh and composing his thoughts before elaborating.

Charlie: I just mean… being a million miles apart. Existing like we’re in different worlds. Maybe when all this started we -- I -- needed that. To feel like I was doing what I set out to do, to become independent and figure all my stuff out on my own without bringing you down with me. Because that’s why I did it. I know you already know that, but it took me some time to stop convincing myself otherwise. [ a beat, looking down at his hands ] At first, I really thought I was doing the right thing. The thing that was best for everyone, that would allow me to fix everything. But I wasn’t really fixing anything. I think I was just doing what I always do. Running.

Zay listens patiently, not betraying anything. Letting Charlie have the time to work through it, to say what he needs to say. Charlie meets his eyes.

Charlie: And I know I screwed everything up, making those choices without you. [ shaky ] I know I hurt you, and… [ fiercely ] and I hate that I did. I hope you’ll believe that the last thing I ever, ever wanted to do was hurt you.

Zay’s calm demeanor cracks slightly, betraying that exact hurt flaring up again. But it doesn’t hurt the same way anymore. It’s healed over, a dull ache that with the right treatment and a little more time will recover.

Charlie dips his head down, doing his best to keep it together and not do something unhelpful like cry. He clears his throat, taking another deep breath and finding his resolve. He meets his eyes again, not letting himself run anymore.

Charlie: But I did. I did, and I’m sorry. Sincerely, from the bottom of my heart. I made some serious mistakes, and I know I’m going to have to live with them forever. You and I... we’re always going to carry that with us. We’re always going to have this history, the good and the bad. It’s never going to just go back to how it was before.

True enough. Zay nods, acknowledging it. Then, would they really want it to? Would they want to trade it all away for a fresh start, if it meant taking the good moments too?

Charlie: Even still… I wouldn’t change it. Because I can’t imagine what life would be like -- what I would be like -- if none of it ever happened. And no matter what’s changed since, the mistakes I’ve made… a million years ago, before all this started, I told you that I couldn’t lose you. That you were too important to lose. Now I know I was right. [ with a weak smile ] I don’t want to keep doing this, stumbling through life without you.

It’s getting harder and harder to remain neutral. Zay sniffs, swiping at his lips and trying to maintain his composure. Charlie isn’t looking away now, taking him in as much as he can while he makes his appeal.

Charlie: And maybe it’s selfish, which is exactly what caused all this in this first place, but I don’t care. If there’s one thing I’ll allow myself a little selfishness for, it’s this. That’s my new choice. You were one of my best friends, and you’re one of my favorite people. [ a beat ] And I totally get if this isn’t enough, or if it’s too much, and you’d just rather not. But is there any chance we can just… try? Try to find our rhythm again, be friends again? [ delicate ] Because I know the world needs you, but I really miss Zay Babineaux.

If Charlie uncharacteristically had a lot to say, then it only makes sense for Zay to have nothing. He’s speechless, absorbing everything Charlie said and trying to keep his emotions in check while grappling with that same question he’s been struggling with for weeks. If things aren’t completely broken, if they can be even remotely repaired, then is it worth the risk of letting him back in so they can fix it? Is that something he wants? Does it even feel possible, considering all their history and how frozen they’ve felt before?

But all of that was daunting when Charlie remained a question mark, when his feelings and opinions were kept behind that protective shell he works hard to maintain. Now, now that he’s said it and put himself out there, there’s no more guessing what Charlie wants. And when he knows where Charlie stands on it, on them, his decision is suddenly easy.

Zay: I could be down for trying. [ unable to hold back a small smile ] I’d really like that. Believe it or not, I missed Charlie Gardner.

The relieved smile that consumes Charlie’s features is instant, a laugh escaping him. Not because anything is funny, but because he can finally breathe again. The world has thawed around them, allowing time to resume and for both of them to move forward.

And what that means for them, well, only time will tell.

Riley slowly creeps her way back towards the booth, apologizing for interrupting but claiming she’s starving and absolutely needs to eat a fry or she’ll collapse. Charlie and Zay crack up, gesturing for her to rejoin them officially. She beams, feeding off their infectious energy that only freedom can conjure, and slides back into the booth next to Zay.

Charlie brings up an epic moment from their showdown performance and they quickly launch into excited chatter, the rapport between the three of them finally at ease. The way it was always meant to be -- hopefully, the way it will be forever more.

INT. AAA - JACK’S OFFICE - DAY

Isadora arrives at school bright and early, having come in with Eric rather than her classmates for a change. She knocks on Jack’s office door and enters as soon as she hears the beginnings of a response. Patience may not be her strong suit.

Jack is already busy with work, but sets his focus entirely on Isadora when she sits down across from him. Her face is set, that classic De La Cruz fierceness and determination clear.

Jack: Eric mentioned you wanted to see me. How can I help you, Miss De La Cruz?

Isadora: I’m here to discuss the possibility of setting up a scholarship fund in my mother’s name.

Jack’s eyebrows raise in surprise. Whatever he was expecting, it wasn’t that. Before he can respond to the proposition, Isadora continues.

Isadora: As you’re aware, I have inherited a large sum of money from my mother upon her passing.

Jack, gently: Isadora, you don’t need to be so formal with me. This isn’t a business meeting.

Isadora sighs in relief, allowing her posture to relax.

Isadora: I’ve been struggling with what to do with my mom’s money for a while now, and I realized when I was helping Katy and Maya move into their new apartment that I should use it in a way that Valerie would support. [ waiting for Jack to nod in acknowledgement before continuing ] My mom loved this school, how it fosters the next round of talent. She often dropped hints to me that she’d like to be a guest teacher more regularly --

Jack: [ caught off guard ] Did she? She never mentioned anything to me or Eric…

Isadora, fondly: It was part of her plan for moving to New York. But my point is, a scholarship fund is exactly what Valerie would want her money to go towards. Helping bring up the round of superstars, particularly ones like Maya who can’t necessarily access it on their own. That’s how she started out too, you know, not coming from much. She made her own luck, but I don’t think she’d even blink if she had the chance to help someone else achieve those same dreams without half the struggle. It feels right. Plus, it’ll help keep Lucas and Maya’s new legislation intact without having to rely on winning showdown every single year. Haverford are… tough competition.

That’s one way to describe them. Jack nods as he thinks it over, keen on the idea. He can’t see any reason why it can’t happen.

Jack: Sounds like an excellent idea to me. I’m sure Lucas and Maya will be pleased too. [ a beat ] Well done for coming to such a wise decision on your own. Valerie would be proud of you, I’m sure. And so am I.

Isadora is touched by the sentiments, and gets up from her chair to hurry around to his side of the desk. She gives him a quick hug, taking him by surprise.

Isadora: Thank you. For always being there for me. You and Eric mean a lot to me. [ a beat ] Well, um… bye. I guess.

She offers him an awkward wave as she walks back around his desk and towards the door. Jack is still frozen in surprise from Isadora’s hug and gratitude, knowing full well how much that means. He smiles at her, happy that she seems to trust him.

Jack’s uplifted mood doesn’t last long though. Yancy appears in the doorway just as Isadora is leaving, the two of them nearly bumping into each other. He shoots a subtle glare at her, but she doesn’t back down easily, so she glares right back at him until she passes.

Yancy: Quite the attitude on that one. Seems that might be a trend here at Adams.

Jack: Looks can be deceiving. Isadora just helped arrange for a fund to support the new scholarships in full, for many, many years. [ pointedly ] If humanity has any hope, I believe it’s in the youth. They certainly demonstrate much greater compassion than I’ve observed lately.

Yancy: Oh, then I suppose we both have good news, then.

Yancy clasps his hands together, looking all too pleased to be delivering this news. Jack braces himself for the worst.

Yancy: I submitted my report last week, and the board has reached their verdict. Effective January 1st, the role of principal will officially be open to apply for at Adams Academy for the Arts. I myself am planning to submit for consideration -- I think I could do more here than the school board at this point, considering the disastrous status of the school at present.

Jack’s heart sinks. He’s not being fired, but it’s al\most worse this way, dangling it in front of his face and making him do tricks like a show pony to prove he deserves to keep the position. He’s out of words, clenching his jaw and choosing not to give Yancy the satisfaction of a response. But he hardly needs one -- Yancy’s smugness is detectable from a mile away.

Yancy: You are, of course, welcome to reapply to keep your position, Jackson. In fact, I encourage it -- the board deserves the opportunity to reject you outright. [ a beat ] Until then, I suggest you start considering alternatives. You may very well be saying goodbye to Adams with your precious senior A class by the time this school year concludes.

With that, there’s nothing left to say. Yancy spins and leaves Jack to grapple with this info bomb on his own, at least giving him the dignity of reacting on his own.

Jack gets to his feet, closing the door behind Yancy. Then he finds himself slowly leaning against it, like all the energy has been zapped right out of him. His jaw twitches, eyes glossing over, like everything he’s been balancing and building up barricades against for years is about to break through and totally overrun him…

But he takes a deep breath, steels himself, and releases it with a sigh. Right now, there’s work to be done. Things to see through. And when the time comes to face the prospects, well, he’ll deal with it then.

Straightening up and clearing his throat, Jack moves back to his desk and settles in his chair. Back to work, doing what needs to be done as principal.

INT. AAA - AUDITORIUM - DAY

The A class is gathered for their first class since the weekend, all still chatty and buzzy with excitement from their victory. They’re up on the stage, chatting in small clusters about their performance and complimenting one another on their finest moments. Dylan and Asher in particular are huddled with Jade, gossiping about what happened with Nigel and what she thinks their first date is going to be.

But they snap back to attention when Harper and Shawn enter, the former enthusiastically taking the stage and greeting them as the Manhattan Showdown champs. This earns a loud cheer, Harper offering her own applause and letting them soak up the pride. Then she goes on to explain just how proud of them she is, how inspired she is by what they pulled off, and how remarkably moving it was to watch them come together to create something irrefutably them.

Harper: As you all surely remember, I was a bit out of my element when I came here last year. I thought I knew Triple A, but you all were another brand entirely. And you didn’t make easy on me -- or yourselves -- so I always wondered how you’d manage to pull this off. Now I realize it was silly of me to doubt. You, the senior A class, are full of unexpected surprises -- and I think that might just be your greatest strength.

Hear, hear! As for assignments this week, it’s the last week before winter break, so Harper admits she doesn’t really know what they should do either. After such a crazy few weeks, she feels like they’ve been tested enough.

As it turns out, maybe no reason is exactly the thing they need to perform right now. Riley says as much, sharing her thinking that while the rush of the last few weeks have been exciting, it’s been a minute since any of them just got to sing for the joy of it. Which is a shame, a travesty, considering that’s why all of them are at this school, in this place, together. Love of the art.

So that’s what they do. For the first time in months, the A class breaks into song because they want to. Because they can. Because it unites all of them, even when there’s no pressure or thing to fight for.

Song Cue ♫ ♪ “To Noise Making (Sing)” as performed by Hozier || Performed by AAA Seniors

Riley kicks us off, singing happily to her classmates as she stands at the center of the stage. She makes her way around and shares a little moment with all of them, gradually pulling all of them into the harmonies, until she’s got the collective singing along. From there, her classmates step up to share focus, Zay, Maya, Isadora, Chai, and Yindra just a few of the notable ones to take a solo for a couple lines. Farkle takes the bridge, accepting an affectionate side hug from Riley as he does.

Harper and Shawn watch from the back of the front center section, swaying and grooving along. Eric has come to join them, but he can tell something is missing. He glances over his shoulder towards the doors, looking for Jack, but he’s nowhere to be found.

Then the A class comes together, all making their way into a closer formation at center stage. Nigel takes Jade’s hand and pulls her gently into the group, twirling her under his arm. Riley makes sure Lucas gets included in the throng, though this time he hardly seems reluctant, throwing his arm around her shoulders. He’s not singing, mind you, but here’s there in the moment with the rest of them.

And that’s where we leave them as we close out this half-season. The united A class, exhausted but still going strong, vindicated victors, brimming with unbelievable potential for the future.

Can’t wait to see what happens next.

END OF EPISODE.

#308 #episodes #S3 #like... wow y'all. we made it #IM SO HAPPY FOR Y'ALL TO EXPERIENCE IT. HAVE FUN #<33333

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ambitionsource · 3 years

Note

Which factions from Divergent would everyone be in?

Why can questions be colour now!

oh so pretty, a little purple spice in the inbox. i waited to answer this because i knew nothing about divergent and now that i’m reading the first book, i figure i can take a crack at this. still gonna reference the wiki though since im only like a fifth into the novel lol. this kind of goes against like everything i believe in about character since it reduces them to one personality trait but i’ll refrain from calling everyone divergent and just. go with it for the sake of the challenge

i will try to do it like... which faction i think they’d choose on the actual ceremony day (like who they are in their heart or whatever) and i’ll note if they were raised in a different faction and thus are a transfer. fun fact i cant even spell like half these words

Abnegation (The Selfless)

“Abnegation is the faction that values the needs of others above the needs of oneself. Their core belief is 'Them before I.'”

Charlie Gardner

Asher Garcia (though I think he resists a strong instinct towards Dauntless because he doesn’t believe he could possibly fit there since he has such bad anxiety... and yet...)

Jade Beamon

Clarissa Cruz

Erudite (The Intelligent)

It is noted that Erudites care for eloquent speeches, as well as their search for knowledge. The Erudite, though extremely intelligent, have been known to be vain. Their (long) manifesto is “Ignorance is defined not as stupidity but as lack of knowledge. Lack of knowledge inevitably leads to a lack of understanding. Lack of understanding leads to a disconnect among people with differences. Disconnection among people with differences leads to conflict. Knowledge is the only logical solution to the problem of conflict. Therefore, we propose that to eliminate conflict, we must eliminate the disconnect among those with differences by correcting the lack of understanding that arises from ignorance with knowledge.”

Jack Hunter (though he’d resist a pull towards Abnegation)

Nigel Chey

Jeff Monroe

Brandon Rivas (transfer from Dauntless)

Dauntless (The Brave)

Dauntless is considered the stalwart soldiers of the factions. Dauntless are those who are brave, seeming almost fearless. They strive to become courageous and durable. “We believe in ordinary acts of bravery, in the courage that drives one person to stand up for another... we believe in shouting for those who can only whisper, in defending those who cannot protect themselves.”

Lucas James Friar (transfer from Abnegation, where Grace is stuck)

Riley Matthews (transfer from Candor, i.e. Topanga and Cory, though Cory should’ve been something like Amity but stuck to the family lineage unlike Eric)

Zay Babineaux

Yindra Amino

Angela Moore

Harper Burgess

I should clarify here though that I know it’s like they’re supposed to be all badass stereotypical Goth YA hotties and wear all black and stuff but I feel like this crew (sans Lucas) would be like fuck that. They’d all be wearing their iconic funky fashion and LJF would be like WE’RE SUPPOSED TO BE BORING!!! AND WEAR BLACK!!! and Zay, Riley, and Yindra would be like blah blah blahhhhhh get a pop of color for once loser. Just felt that needed to be clarified

Amity (The Peaceful)

Members of Amity value peace and harmony above all else. Amity members are happy people, willing to serve, but, unlike Abnegation, do not come face-to-face with those they serve (usually). “Give freely, trusting that you will be given what you need... Do not be angry. The opinions of others cannot damage you... The wrong is past. You must let it rest where it lies... You must no longer think cruel thoughts. Cruel thoughts lead to cruel words and hurt you as much as they wound their target.”

Dylan Orlando

Eric Matthews (transfer from Candor)

Dave Williams

Darby Winters

Haley Fisher

Nick Yogi

Candor (The Honest)

Candor members value honesty, above all else. They are very truthful, sometimes to the point of being tactless. They believe that charm is unnecessary, and politeness is deception in pretty packaging. Although Candor values honesty the most, they also seek to develop impartiality. “Dishonesty is rampant. Dishonesty is temporary. Dishonesty makes evil possible.”

Maya Hart (transfer from Abnegation, where Katy is)

Farkle Minkus (transfer from Erudite)

Isadora De La Cruz (transfer from Dauntless -- which Val would be I think)

Nate Martinez

Chai Fresco

Sarah Carlson

Interesting that the real diva trio are all transfers... much to think about. Anyway!

-- Maggie

#i just think the visual of ljf grumping bc no one will wear black theyre MEANT to is so funny #a class #answered #im only a fourth into the book no one spoil anything!!!!!#charliezay #ask and you shall receive

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ambitionsource · 4 years

Note

you wake up one morning and you've switched bodies with each other for the rest of the day. what do you do while you're each other?

Yindra: Oh, boy!

Nigel: Oh, no.

Yindra: First things first, I wake up and I burn all of my Shakespeare plays.

Nigel: That’s literally the meanest thing you’ve ever said. Why do you hate me? Why am I not allowed to enjoy things?

Yindra: Just kidding, just kidding. Oh. But you know what I actually would do?

Nigel: I don’t want to know. Keep it to yourself.

Yindra: I roll up to class, and I finally tell Farkle Minkus the truth, which is that I’m just as talented as he is and the only reason he’s been walking all over me for four years is because I let him. Because I’m so nice and lowkey and I don’t fight him, but if I scrapped even a little bit, I’d win.

Nigel: Oh. Well, that’s not so bad.

Yindra: Then I turn this tirade on Miss Burgess -- and Miss Moore, she was really more of the problem, and we can have her be here too -- and I let her know just exactly what I think of her favoritism. Zay already did this, apparently, but I’m doing it with an audience and I’m giving an encore. The class bursts into applause -- except Maya and Farkle, who are crying. But actually, they’re still clapping, because they can’t deny a good performance.

Nigel: Alright. Cool, I’m into this.

Yindra: Then, I whip around, find Jade Beamon, and pull her into my arms so that I can dip her and give her a grand ol’ --

Nigel: OKAY. THAT’S ENOUGH.

Yindra: I would be a great you. It’s a shame I’m not.

Nigel: If I were Yindra for a day, I would be really really nice to Nigel and buy him lots of Shakespeare plays and leave him alone.

Yindra: Ha ha. Dream on, lovebug.

#ct: nigel & yindra #s3 ct #answered #mikeshanlon #ask and you shall receive

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ambitionsource · 4 years

Photo

AMBITION Season 2 ♫ “The Sun Will Rise” [ 2.13 ]

CREATED BY Esther (rapunzles) & Maggie (quincywillows) || S2 Tag || Official Page

WHAT HAPPENS NEXT – News of Valerie brings Isadora and the group across the continent to Los Angeles. Wounds begin to heal, and lucky happenstance presents compelling new opportunities. Reflecting on all they’ve endured, the junior class looks towards senior year and begins to ponder what happens next.

68 Minutes (19K words) || No content warnings apply.

[ ← Final Run ] [ S2 Synopsis ] [ Season Three → ]

( Follow along with the music on Spotify here! )

EXT. AAA - NIGHT

Song Cue ♫ ♪ “Go Ye Now In Peace” as performed by Rochester College A Cappella Chorus || Performed by AAA Juniors (feat. AAA Students)

A crowd has formed on the steps of Adams, but the mood is far different than it was only hours ago. Whereas that crowd was there to protest, this one is here to mourn. To honor. To stand together. A candlelight vigil, dozens of little flames dotting the exterior of the school in a constellation of flame.

The choral piece is not typical fare for a student body that tends to lean towards glitz and glamor, but in this moment it’s exactly what’s needed. The beautiful harmony of the AAA students is clearer than ever before, a comforting embrace of sound amidst the tears.

And comfort is the most prominent force. It’s the last time we’ll see the A class as juniors, and while the reason for the gathering is somber, it’s nice to see them all so unequivocally together. HALEY FISHER and CLARISSA CRUZ stand on either side of CHARLIE GARDNER, arms linked. YINDRA AMINO and NIGEL CHEY share a candle, DARBY WINTERS and SARAH CARLSON hugging behind them as they sing.

The techies are closely gathered, NATE MARTINEZ standing solemnly between JEFF MONROE and DAVE WILLIAMS. Dave has his arms around JADE BEAMON, propping his chin on her head while she cries silently. NICK YOGI is leaned against Dave, hugging his side. DYLAN ORLANDO hugs ASHER GARCIA from behind, resting his chin on his shoulder and tilting their heads together.

On the steps, JACK HUNTER and ERIC MATTHEWS are stalwart and put together, hands clasped in front of them respectfully as they sing along. Admittedly, Eric is having a harder time holding back his emotion. HARPER BURGESS flicks tears from her cheeks. SHAWN HUNTER reaches out a hand to touch her shoulder, ANGELA MOORE at his side.

MAYA HART is singing through thick tears, holding tight to FARKLE MINKUS’s arm. She keeps him close as he watches fellow students contribute to the center of the vigil. It seems to be hitting him differently.

ZAY BABINEAUX allows RILEY MATTHEWS to rest her head against his shoulder until she steps forward, a flower in her hands. She steps forward to the central display and lays the blossom amidst the others, stepping out of frame to allow focus to rest on the memorial.

Flowers, cards, posters and old CDs. Photographs and memorabilia, all surrounding the framed portrait of VALERIE DE LA CRUZ at the core of it all. A global icon. A role model, inspiration, and mentor to so many of the students at Adams. A mother to one of their own.

The voices of the Adams student body float into the night, a touching send off for a woman truly unlike any other. Now, nothing but a memory and the things she left behind. All that’s left to do, once the mourning is done, is figure out how to move forward. What happens next…

Cue title sequence.

INT. AAA - AUDITORIUM - DAY

Charlie is in the auditorium alone, paying one more visit before he says goodbye. Unlike the rest of his classmates, he won’t be coming back after the summer.

He’s all the way in the rear behind the last curtain, looking up at the back wall. All along it, planks of 2 x 4 wood have been hung up. At the center of each one is a year, surrounded by scribbled initials.

Charlie is eye level with the one marked “2021,” certain handwriting quite familiar. Riley quietly enters and comes to join him, not interrupting his thoughtful silence as she looks at it with him.

Charlie: It’s a coveted tradition. [ off her intrigued look ] At the end of freshman year, every class gets their own plank. They emboss it with the graduating year -- for us, 2021 -- and then everyone in the class gets to initial it. Leave their mark, you know? Commemorate that we made it. That we were here.

Riley examines the Class of 2021 plank. Familiar initials jump out -- ZB. MH. FM. Even LF, clustered beside AG and DO. The initials WL can barely be made out after someone -- or perhaps multiple someones -- aggressively scratched it out.

Charlie: [ re: Wyatt’s ] Obviously, it doesn’t account much for change. [ a beat ] Any kind of change.

Charlie is looking at a different pair of initials now. CG.

Riley looks at him sympathetically. She knows how it feels to jump schools, but it’s hard to imagine how it would feel when you really don’t want to. When the one you’re leaving is the one you don’t want to let go.

Then an idea strikes her.

Riley: You got a Sharpie?

Charlie thinks, grabbing his backpack at his feet to dig through the pockets. He retrieves one, handing it to her.

Riley pulls off the cap with a flourish, stepping forward. She scans the 2021 plank, finding a spot and using the Sharpie to create a new set of initials. RM -- right in the middle between CG and the cluster of techie initials. A space left empty, as if it was just waiting for something new to come along and complete it.

Riley eyes the addition proudly, capping the Sharpie and passing it back to Charlie. Not a solution, but a symbolic gesture -- just as things can be so easily removed, they can be easily added, too. It doesn’t change that they’re both there. That they always will be.

She gives him a smile, which he half-heartedly returns. Charlie scoops up his backpack, slinging it over his shoulder. Riley throws an arm around his back and he drapes one over her shoulder, the two of them exiting the auditorium together.

INT. AAA - BLACK BOX THEATER - DAY

Zay swings by the black box as Harper is finishing cleaning up from their final class. He asks if she needs any help, but she waves him off. She’ll be here many more hours packing up the classroom -- he shouldn’t waste any of his final high school summer on her.

Zay explains why he wanted to stop by, letting her know that he got offered a role in the off-Broadway production. He’s officially portraying Riff for the next few months, and he wanted to thank her for all her support. Harper is ecstatic, exchanging a hug with him.

Zay: I wouldn’t have gotten it if it weren’t for you. So thank you.

Harper, touched: … well, thank you. That’s very sweet. But I don’t know if that’s true.

Zay: You were the one who showed me the audition. I think that proves my point.

Harper thinks on it, thoughtful.

Harper: If I’ve learned anything about this industry in the last decade or so, it’s that you can tell who the real stars are. Talent matters, undoubtedly, but it’s really in the way they shine day-to-day. Who goes the extra mile, who puts themselves out there, who goes searching for opportunity rather than waiting for it to fall into their lap.

Zay listens attentively. It’s evident how much respect he holds for Harper, despite the uneven start she had coming into this year.

Harper: Now I’m just a teacher, so my salary isn’t much to bet on, but I would put all of it on the line when I say you, Zay Babineaux, are one of those stars. [ proudly ] And I can’t wait to see everything that you accomplish.

Zay smiles, bashful in a way he rarely is. How strange and humbling and wonderful it is, to be seen. To be the favorite. To be appreciated for everything you have to offer.

He steps forward for another hug, Harper surprised at first but laughing as she returns it. When they pull apart, Zay wishes her a good summer and promises her a complimentary ticket to West Side Story as soon as its up and running.

Harper: Wouldn’t miss it for the world.

Zay grins, giving her one more nod as he heads out for the year. Harper watches him go with a smile, exhaling and sauntering to the front and center of the classroom. Her classroom, hard fought and won. She’s truly the Adams performance coach now, finally feeling confident and excited for what the next year holds.

INT. CHUBBIE’S DINER - DAY

It seems the next year might hold many new opportunities. A job application slides across the counter at Chubbie’s, LUCAS JAMES FRIAR giving the waitress working a thanks as she promises she’ll pass it on to the manager.

When he spins back around Dylan and Asher are there with him, congratulating him on taking the leap to apply. Still, Asher has his hesitations.

Asher: Seriously, you don’t have to do this just because of me. I said you don’t have to pay me back.

Lucas: And I said I would, so I am. Besides, it’ll give me an excuse to be out of the house. I’m going to need the money anyway if I want to do anything this summer.

Dylan: That’s right. You’ve got a steady to treat now.

Asher: I doubt Riley is expecting much.

Dylan: We don’t know that. She could be a gold digger.

Asher: If she is, she’s been digging in the wrong place for about two years.

Dylan: That’s true. If she were a good gold digger, Farkle is right there.

Lucas: Please stop.

Dylan: Whatever. I’m just excited for you to work here so we can get some sick free grilled cheese!

Lucas: Yeah, that’s not gonna happen.

Dylan: I think it might happen.

Lucas: It’s not.

Dylan doesn’t argue further, but the way he smirks and narrows his eyes speaks for him. I really think it might. Lucas rolls his eyes, Asher changing the subject and asking about Isadora. Everything with Valerie has happened so fast, and all the sudden she has to head all the way across the country to deal with it.

Asher: It’s a good thing you guys are going with her. I can’t imagine having to do something like that alone.

Lucas: She said you guys could come too, you know.

Dylan and Asher exchange a look.

Asher: We know. But we also know it’s going to be overwhelming enough already. I don’t think adding more people is going to help.

Dylan: But we’ll be here when she comes back. She knows we’ve got her back -- that won’t change after she jumps coasts.

Lucas can acknowledge that truth. Asher and Dylan point out they’re glad he’s going though, considering his own mixed feelings about Valerie. He admits he still doesn’t know exactly how to feel about it, but it doesn’t really matter much anymore, does it? Either way, he would want to be there for Isadora.

Lucas: After the shit friend I’ve been this year, I think it’s the least I could do. And I know she would do the same for me. Besides… [ looking at them ] I know how important it is to have good friends looking out for you.

The weight of the statement goes without saying after everything they’ve been through this year. Asher glances to Dylan, then quickly moves to wrap Lucas in a tight hug. Finally breaking down the last remnants of tension between them and letting it dissolve away.

Lucas is surprised at first, but then he returns the embrace. Dylan watches, beaming.

Lucas, quietly: Thanks, spaghetti.

Asher: [ into his shoulder ] Any time.

They pull apart, awkwardly smiling and patting one another’s shoulders. Once Asher steps back, Lucas looks to Dylan, rolling his eyes before opening his arms slightly and inviting another embrace. Dylan happily accepts it, giving him a bracing hug and patting him on the back.

Now that all that emotional baggage has been squared away, Lucas claims he better get going. They’ve got a lunch date he doesn’t want to interrupt, and he’s got to start packing. Asher tells him to have fun in LA, in spite of the dreary circumstances.

Dylan: Take lots of pictures for us!

Lucas, flatly: Yeah, you know I’m not gonna do that.

Lucas nods them a goodbye and turns to go, only stopping when he actually gets to the door. He hesitates, glancing back over his shoulder towards them.

Asher and Dylan are still there behind him -- still having his back. Loyal lieutenants, despite everything else. Dylan raises a hand in casual salute.

Lucas smiles lightly. Then he pushes through the doors, heading back out into the city. Asher and Dylan watch him go, exchanging a look once he’s gone. Dylan grins and pats Asher’s shoulders, gently leading him further into the diner.

INT. MINKUS HOME - FARKLE’S BEDROOM - NIGHT

Farkle is also packing, sorting through his clothes and deciding what to bring to Los Angeles. There’s another pile going at his feet as he digs through his closet -- a box labeled “DONATE.” Filled with items that no longer fit and have been accumulating in his spacious closet, but also things that don’t feel much like him anymore. No longer matched to the person he’s become.

He pulls a blazer off the rack, pausing as he looks it over. It’s one of his notorious favorites -- from the pilot to his 207 pre-suicide resurgence. Definitely one of his statement pieces.

Farkle stares at it for a long moment, contemplating. There’s a moment where it seems as though he may drop it in the donation box… but he merely dusts it off and places it back on the rack. It no longer defines him, but that doesn’t mean he has to be rid of it completely.

He knows that part of him is still embedded within him, keeping him scrappy and ambitious. It’s simply better balanced now -- a part of him, rather than his entire mask.

STUART MINKUS knocks lightly, stepping into the room and taking a look at his operation. He whistles, remarking he thought they had another year before this sort of change invaded their home. From the way he says it, although jokingly, it’s clear Stuart is not ready to think about the notion of Farkle leaving for longer than just a vacation.

Farkle assures him it’s only that, but he figured there was plenty of stuff he could afford to go through while he’s in the right headspace. He actually thinks they all might -- this summer they should make a family effort to go through the house and donate things they don’t need. Stuart states that’s an excellent idea.

Farkle also thanks him for helping convince Jennifer to let him go on the trip to Los Angeles at all. Stuart shrugs, claiming the only reason they managed to make it work is because Eric will be along to chaperone.

Farkle: Not that that’s a guarantee of effective management -- don’t tell mom I said that.

[ Stuart mimes zipping his mouth and locking it. Then he smiles. ]

Stuart: You know she’s just worried about you. Everything that happened this year --

Farkle: I know, I know. [ tossing a shirt into his suitcase ] I earned my extensive surveillance. I’m well aware.

Stuart takes the moment of heaviness to speak. He explains that he knows he hasn’t always been vocal about… their family has never been great at expressing themselves. In a board meeting, sure, but when it comes to the homefront… even so, Stuart wants Farkle to know how proud of him he is. He hasn’t been clear enough about it in the past, but he’s going to try now. He doesn’t ever want Farkle to think he doesn’t care.

Farkle: I know. [ a beat ] But thanks for saying it.

Farkle accepts the hug Stuart gives him, the two of them absorbing the moment. Then Stuart steps back, allowing him to get back to his packing. He tells Farkle to keep an ear out while in Los Angeles -- the best businessmen are those who seek opportunity at every moment. Farkle rolls his eyes, but he knows his father means well with his entrepreneurial guidance.

INT. JACK’S APARTMENT - DAY

Jack opens the door to his apartment, dressed more casually than we’ve ever seen him. Plain tee shirt, comfortable pair of jeans -- school’s out for the summer, and Jackson Hunter owes nothing to nobody.

Except, perhaps, Eric Matthews. That’s who he finds standing outside, holding a carton of cupcakes from a bakery that he claims is Jack’s favorite. Jack accepts the gift and gestures him inside, but he asks what the catch is as he takes the baked goods to the kitchen.

Eric: Well, I know it’s been a tough year. Consider them… congratulatory cupcakes. For making it through a killer semester.

Jack, skeptical: Every semester is a killer semester at Adams.

Touché. Jack asks what’s really going on, why Eric is trying to bribe him. After beating around the bush for a minute longer, Eric relents and admits that he wants Jack to consider coming to Los Angeles with him and the kids. He wouldn’t have to worry about the expenses, as Valerie’s estate is putting them up to get Isadora out there.

Jack: I don’t know. I hardly think Isadora needs more people jumping in on this experience. Especially one she didn’t think to invite.

Eric: Believe me, Isa is not thinking about that. And actually, it might ease her mind knowing there’s another responsible adult present. An authority figure to help keep things in line. Who better than the administrator of authority himself?

Jack: Not sure I deserve that title anymore. School board sure doesn’t think so.

Eric brushes the comment aside -- that’s drama for them to grapple with later. Right now, the focus is Valerie and Los Angeles, and right now, Eric really wants him to be there.

Eric: It would help me. [ sincere ] Please, Jack.

Jack sighs, leaning back against the counter and crossing his arms. He eyes Eric for a long moment, contemplating.

Jack: Fine. But only to help you.

Eric grins, thanking him profusely. Jack tries to appear put out, but he can’t hold back the hint of a smile as he shakes his head.

INT. GARDNER HOME - CHARLIE’S BEDROOM - NIGHT

Charlie, on the other hand, is not packing the night before departure to LA. He’s sitting at his desk, focused on typing something on his laptop.

When he hears someone approaching his room he frantically switches tabs, pulling up the website for Haverford. He acts as though he’s been reading that when ELEANOR GARDNER pokes her head in the room, asking how he’s feeling now that school is out for the summer.

Eleanor: You haven’t started packing? [ a beat ] We leave for Aggie’s day after tomorrow. Will you have enough time to get everything together?

Charlie assures her he’s got it under control. She smiles, glancing at his screen and seeing the Haverford website. She states she’s proud of him for taking the initiative to try something new, especially when it’s so daunting. Senior year, and everything… but she thinks this will be good for him. Adams wasn’t ever exactly his speed anyway, was it?

Eleanor: I know it’s hard to leave what you know. But I think it’ll be great. Get you back on track a bit, you know? Reorient yourself.

Charlie: Totally.

Eleanor steps further inside, giving him a kiss on the top of the head. As she’s stepping back into the hall, she tosses another comment over her shoulder.

Eleanor: Oh, I made an appointment with the hair cuttery. We’ll all go and get our summer cuts tomorrow before we head upstate.

Charlie: Sounds good. Get the door please?

Eleanor obliges, gently shutting his door behind her. Charlie waits a moment to make sure she’s gone, then he swaps back to his original tab.

It’s a social media site, and he’s in the midst of finishing up a private message. His fingers hover over the send key, nerves holding him back. In the corner of the screen, we can see the profile.

Bridgette Gardner.

Charlie stares at the message he typed out, clenching his jaw… then he hits send. Definitively. Disrupting the familial embargo.

No turning back now.

INT. MATTHEWS APARTMENT - MASTER BEDROOM - DAY

Riley is finishing up packing the last of her things, zipping her suitcase. Maya’s stuff is waiting on her bed, making it clear both of them will be going with Isadora.

CORY MATTHEWS enters the room, claiming Maya is downstairs calling the car service.

Riley: So you’re carrying her things, then?

Cory: Yeah, fascinating how she makes that work. The world is her personal assistant.

Riley laughs, lugging her bag off the bed. Cory takes the chance before she goes to let her know he’s so grateful that she’s not moving upstate. He heard her when she said she didn’t want to be in the middle of him and Topanga, and he’s going to do his best to honor that. He’s just happy she’s sticking with him for her last year at Adams.

Riley gives him a hug, assuring him that it was an easy choice. As they’re embracing, Riley delicately brings up Lucas and questions whether or not now is a good time to have that difficult conversation -- that she’s now dating the school “delinquent.”

Cory: Mm, no. Nope, not now. Go, quickly.

Riley laughs again, picking up her bag while Cory goes to grab Maya’s.

EXT. ERIC’S APARTMENT BUILDING - DAY

Lucas jogs his way up the stairs to Eric’s building, duffle bag on his shoulder.

INT. ERIC’S APARTMENT - DAY

Eric lets him in, Lucas asking if they’re all ready to go. Eric claims he is, he’s just getting the last of their travel documents together. He can go check in with Isadora, she’s back in her room.

Lucas nods, dropping his duffle on the couch and making his way back into the hall.

INT. ERIC’S APARTMENT - ISADORA’S ROOM - DAY

Lucas makes his way inside, ignoring the slight disaster area that is Isadora’s room. It’s clear she hasn’t put much effort into maintaining it -- understandable, given the circumstances.

ISADORA DE LA CRUZ is sitting on the small chest pushed in front of the window, looking out towards the city. Her hair is pulled up haphazardly out of her face, and she’s dressed in a dark sweatshirt despite the warm weather. She doesn’t look at Lucas as he comes in.

Her suitcase and backpack are all set on the bed, but she’s not wearing shoes and isn’t making any moves to get going. Lucas tells her they’re leaving soon, starting to dig through the debris to find her shoes. Does she know what pair she wants to wear? Did she already pack --

Isadora: Don’t worry about it. [ flatly ] I’m not going.

Lucas pauses, eyeing her. His concern and surprise only last for a moment, before he rebuilds his aloof, relaxed facade and continues to search for her shoes. He could react to the bold declaration, try to reason with Isadora or give her treacly reassurances -- but that’s not how the two of them are. He knows how to talk to her, and sympathy isn’t what she needs. She’s gotten and will get plenty of that in the next few days.

So Lucas shrugs, claiming that’s fine. Eric can probably handle the legal affairs they’ll want her to sort out, and any of Valerie’s sympathetic friends will find a way to get their well wishes to her if they’re really determined.

Like clockwork, his nonchalance prompts Isadora to elaborate on her thinking -- why should she bother to go? What will she get out of it? The only reason she ever went to Los Angeles is no longer there. They’re going for Valerie, but they’re not really going for Valerie. She’s not there, there’s nothing to go for. And she doesn’t feel like having a bunch of people she hardly knows tell her how much her mom loved her and what a wonderful amazing person she was. Doesn’t sound like fun. No thanks. What’s the point?

Lucas acknowledges that truth, and doesn't try to convince her that it’ll be different. It’ll probably be exactly like that. He manages to find her black Converse, picking them up and walking over to join her by the window.

Lucas: The only thing you left out is the part where I’m there with you. And when it gets to be too much, or some really obnoxious Hollywood starlet is crying in your arms about how fantastic Valerie was, I’ll be there to pry her off you and accidentally spill funeral reception punch on her.

Isadora: Don’t think that would make a very favorable impression.

Lucas: It’s fine -- I think I’ve realized my career in show business is a shot in the dark. Unfortunate, I know.

Isadora: I don’t know what the world will do without you.

Lucas: Think they’ll manage. There’s plenty of grumpy white boys to cover for me.

He holds out the shoes for her, giving her the choice on whether or not to take them.

Lucas: But you don’t have to. You’ve got me, and all the other misfit pals you’ve collected this year. Seriously, your taste in friends is baffling.

Isadora glares at him… and then cracks the ghost of a smile. She takes the shoes begrudgingly, starting to pull them on.

EXT. AIRLINER - DAY

A cross-country flight takes off across the sky, a pilot pleasantly explaining their cruising altitude and expected arrival time.

INT. AIRLINER - COACH - DAY

In one row of seats, Isadora is slouched between Riley and Lucas. She’s obviously not in the mood to talk, gritting her teeth and twisting her headphones around her fingers while Riley and Lucas attempt to carry on a quiet conversation over her head. She gets fed up relatively quick, patience wafer thin due to everything else she’s processing at the moment.

Isadora: Oh my God, enough! [ to Riley ] Switch with me.

Riley: What?

Isadora: Switch with me. I don’t want to listen to you both romance over me for six hours straight.

Lucas: … we weren’t even --

Riley: Um, I mean, if that’s what you want --

Riley raises her hands in surrender, the two of them pulling off a tight exchange as Isadora plops into the window seat and Riley takes the middle. Isadora buckles her seatbelt and curls up as small as possible, putting her headphones back on. Riley looks to Lucas uncertainly, the latter shrugging. Best not to push it further.

Meanwhile, Maya is in a mood of her own, obviously disgruntled at being stuck in the middle seat between Farkle and Zay. She’s taking up about half their space as well, lounging dramatically and grumbling.

Maya: This is disturbed. What capital crime did I commit to be given the middle seat?

Farkle: You’re kidding, right?

Maya: Why would I jest about my pain, Farkle Xavier Minkus?

Farkle: You’re taking up three-quarters of the row!

Zay: [ crammed against the window ] Doing this for Isa, doing it for Isa…

Maya lets out a grand sigh, tilting her head back.

Maya: It’s bullshit. We’re stuck back here, yet Jack and Eric --

INT. AIRLINER - FIRST CLASS - DAY

Yet Jack and Eric are enjoying first class, reclined comfortably in their roomy seats. Champagne sits on their tray table, Eric less sure than Jack. He wonders if they deserve to be splurging.

Jack, nonchalant: You brought me on this trip to help you. I’m just doing what you requested, making this as non-stressful as possible.

He picks up his champagne glass, grabbing Eric’s and putting it into his hand. He raises it indicatively.

Jack: To no stress.

Eric: Ha ha ha.

Oh, how the tables have turned. Jack and Eric clink their glasses together.

EXT. AIRLINER - DAY

The flight descends upon the sunny city of Los Angeles.

INT. LOS ANGELES INT’L AIRPORT - DAY

Their flight deplanes, Jack and Eric waiting for the kiddos to emerge. Maya is the first to step out, starry-eyed already. Zay wanders towards the window, glancing out towards the palm trees. It’s always about the palm trees when you first land in LA.

Zay: Y’all, check it --

The others come to join him. They stare out at the world of Los Angeles waiting for them, mixed expressions on their faces. Isadora looks least enthused, having seen it all before.

A smile spreads across Maya’s face.

Song Cue ♫ ♪ “Party in the U.S.A.” as performed by Pitch Perfect Cast || Performed by Maya Hart, Riley Matthews, Zay Babineaux, Farkle Minkus, and Eric Matthews

Maya kicks off the impromptu number, delighting in the truth of “I hopped off the plane at LAX…” She spins and starts wandering towards the exit, Riley following behind her and joining in. It doesn’t take long for Farkle and Zay to join in on the harmony.

Jack clasps his hands together, clearing his throat. Lucas stands next to him, tilting his head back in resignation and rolling his eyes.

Jack: Okay, we’re in a public place. Maybe let’s not…

Too late, Jackie! The performers are off and running, and there’s no stopping them now. The shenanigans do seem to give a sense of normalcy to Isadora, so Eric happily jumps in on the harmonies with them. The group of them dance their way through the LAX concourse, Riley taking Lucas’s hand and dragging him along with them.

They step out the doors and into the crazy traffic, Maya still front and center as she concludes the number with a grin. Great way to uplift the spirits in one of the worst airports in the world!

EXT. BEVERLY HILLS HOTEL - DAY

The exterior of the famous and glamorous Beverly Hills Hotel. Valet guides cars through the driveway, guests and tourists alike coming and going through the doors.

INT. BEVERLY HILLS HOTEL - LOBBY - DAY

The crew heads into the spacious lobby, Eric and Isadora approaching the front desk to check-in. Maya rattles off diva nerd facts about the historic hotel. Lucas tries to make himself smaller, feeling wholly out of place and certain he’s going to accidentally break something.

Eric and Isadora chat with the desk attendant, confirming their complimentary rooms on behalf of Valerie’s people and the hotel. Eric states that if it’s too much trouble they can find other accommodations, but the attendant assures them they’re happy to host them. Valerie was a dear loyal guest of the hotel, so they’re more than happy to help her daughter while she’s here.

Well, good enough for them. The keys slide across the counter.

INT. BEVERLY HILLS HOTEL - ROOM B - DAY

If you’ve never seen a suite in the Beverly Hills Hotel, it’s worth a Google search. These rooms are nice, a glamorous king size bed boasting maximum comfort while a lounge chaise bookends it. Lucas tentatively drops his backpack on the bed, still feeling out of place.

The other boys get a look around, Zay commenting on how sleek the place is. Farkle doesn’t seem all that impressed, comparing it to some upscale hotel in New York that his family stays at often. Zay and Lucas exchange a look, rolling their eyes.

Farkle brings up the obvious question, wondering which one of them is going to get stuck on the chaise. Zay and Lucas lock eyes again, looking in Farkle’s direction pointedly.

Farkle: What? Are you serious? [ to Zay ] Lucas over me?

Zay, with a shrug: I’ve made choices.

Farkle scowls, dropping his bag on the chaise.

INT. BEVERLY HILLS HOTEL - ROOM A - DAY

Maya throws back the curtains of their room, taking in the view with a sigh and letting in the notorious LA sunshine. She’s already listing all of the things they have to do and try in their short time in the city of stars, but Riley delicately reminds her that they’re not just here to explore and go nuts.

There’s an awkward pause, the girls glancing towards Isadora. She waves them off, claiming Maya’s attitude is fine. That should be what this trip is about -- she’d rather it be about their first adventure in LA than the actual reason they’re there.

Maya flops onto the bed, reveling in the luxury. Don’t have to tell her twice, Izzy.

INT. BEVERLY HILLS HOTEL - ROOM C - DAY

Jack and Eric are settling into their room, Jack unpacking his things on his bed. The two of them discuss the rooming situation they’ve set up, acknowledging that there really wasn’t a good way to sort that group of kiddos.

Jack: Do you think they’ll stick to our assignments?

Eric: I’ll be honest, I don’t think they’re going to listen to a word I say this entire trip.

Maybe so, Eric. Maybe so. Jack gives him a bracing pat on the shoulder.

INT. BEVERLY HILLS HOTEL - ROOM A - NIGHT

The clock on the side table reads 11PM, but the girls are already out for the night after a long day of travel and lots going on in the morning. Riley is curled up on the chaise and fast asleep, Maya unceremoniously sprawled across two-thirds of the bed and also out like a light.

Isadora is awake, turned towards the clock and watching it tick later and later. There’s no way she’s going to sleep -- way too much buzzing in her head to process. She pushes herself out of bed, tip-toeing towards the door.

EXT. BEVERLY HILLS HOTEL - POOL - NIGHT

Isadora has taken to wandering the hotel, hoping it’ll clear her head. No dice -- she can feel herself growing more and more overwhelmed. If she can’t even make it through half a day, how is she going to survive this trip?

She approaches the edge of the pool, cast in a blue glow from the reflection of the water. She takes a deep breath, closing her eyes and trying to center herself.

After a moment, she decisively pulls up her phone and dials a number. The only source of comfort who doesn’t happen to be there with her. She paces along the pool side as she waits for them to pick up, chewing on her lip.

INT. GARCIA HOME - ASHER’S BEDROOM - NIGHT

Isadora’s pacing is intercut with Asher’s room, switching back and forth between the two. A phone buzzes on the nightstand, ringing with Isadora’s call. Dylan rouses awake, clumsily reaching for the phone.

Dylan, half-asleep: Hello?

Isadora: Dylan? Can you talk?

Dylan agrees, pushing himself onto his elbow. Asher startles awake next to him, asking what’s going on. Isadora is surprised to hear his voice.

Isadora: Is Asher there too? What are you all doing so late?

Dylan: Dor, it’s like… two in the morning here.

Oh. Duh. Dylan and Asher practically live together -- of course Asher would be there, because they’re asleep. Isadora curses, apologizing profusely for waking them up.

Isadora: Shit, I’m sorry. I didn’t even think --

Dylan: S’all good. Give me one second…

Dylan gently extricates himself from Asher’s hold, the latter already drifting back to sleep. Dylan tip-toes to the closet and shuts himself inside, explaining that he didn’t want to keep Asher up, but he can talk for a little bit.

Isadora: In the closet?

Dylan: Sure. I never spent much time in here anyway, so.

Hardy har har. Isadora can’t help but smile, Dylan already brightening her mood. The exact reason she called him in the first place.

INT. BEVERLY HILLS HOTEL - ROOM B - NIGHT

Lucas and Zay are both asleep, but Farkle is tossing and turning on the chaise. It may have been a bit cruel to relegate him to it, considering his legs are dangling off the edge. He huffs and sits up, deciding he will not be falling asleep any time soon.

INT. BEVERLY HILLS HOTEL - NIGHT

Farkle opts to explore as well, giving us an exquisite montage of the interior of the illustrious space. He takes his time getting a good look around, absorbing the historic elegance.

EXT. BEVERLY HILLS HOTEL - NIGHT

Farkle emerges out towards the pool, hesitating when he hears Isadora’s voice. He backs up out of sight and peers around the pillar he’s hiding behind, eavesdropping.

Isadora continues to pace the length of the pool, explaining to Dylan how there’s so many emotions she’s trying to process being here that it’s like it’s all blocked. She doesn’t even know where to start. She wants to be excited about being in LA with her friends who have never been, but the reason is so unpleasant. She hasn’t even begun to actually cope with why they’re there, and she knows it’s going to be brutal when it actually hits her. She’s surrounded by friends, and yet she still feels distinctly alone.

Dylan can’t exactly speak to that feeling considering he was so young when he lost his mom, but he reminds Isadora that whatever she’s grappling with is valid. And even if it feels like she is, she’s definitely not alone -- all of those people wouldn’t have gone out there with her if she was. And he’s there in spirit too, even if he’s not there physically.

Farkle absorbs Isadora’s side of the conversation, taking in her confusion and stress. He’s contemplative, really thinking on what his purpose for being there is and why Isadora invited him to come at all. He’s there to support her, extend the same stability she tried to offer him when he was at a low point.

Now, he just has to figure out how to go about that. Time to put that genius mind to work…

INT. LAW FIRM - DAY

The next morning, Isadora and Eric sit in the dreary waiting room of a law firm. The building is bland in comparison to the beautiful locations of LA we’ve seen so far. Isadora sits with a blank expression, but next to her Eric’s leg bounces up and down, eyes flitting from person to person as they walk by.

Stilettos click on the floor, a woman in a blouse and pencil skirt approaching the pair with a sympathetic smile. She certainly looks kinder than other lawyers we’ve come to know and dislike. After she introduces herself as Valerie’s estate manager, THERESA, she guides Isadora and Eric into her office.

INT. LAW FIRM - THERESA’S OFFICE - DAY

Theresa explains what arrangements have been made for Valerie’s funeral, along with what the process of the will will look like. Eric asks questions here and there, but Isadora stays blank, nodding along when necessary.

Theresa: I understand that you’ll be very busy over the next couple of days, but if you could set some time aside to look through Miss De La Cruz’s belongings on her estate and decide if you’d like to keep anything for yourself, that would be great.

Isadora: Oh, no, I don’t… no, that’s okay. I’m fine.

Eric frowns but presses his lips together, choosing not to comment. It’s not his place, not now.

INT. BEVERLY HILLS HOTEL - ROOM B - DAY

Back at the hotel, Lucas and Zay are discussing the fancy accommodations as they finish getting ready. It’s actually a nice bonding moment between the two of them, expressing how the glamor of the hotel doesn’t feel like it fits them. Zay isn’t financially as strained as Lucas, but he’s always had trouble associating himself with anything exuberant.

Maya, on the other hand, is thriving. She throws open the door connecting their two rooms and saunters in, throwing her arms out wide and declaring how amazing it is that they’re here and in Los Angeles -- getting the star treatment they deserve. Lucas rolls his eyes.

Lucas: You don’t take a day off, do you?

Maya: I’m an opportunist. Do you know what that means, Gothic Butch Cassidy?

Lucas: Your friend’s mom is dead. You remember that, right?

Zay: Nah, Maya is right. I mean, she’s fucking insane --

Maya: So sweet.

Zay: But she’s right. We’re in LA. We should be taking advantage of it while we’re here, in spite of the tragedy.

Maya: Especially because Izzy literally told us to. If she doesn’t want us harping on Val any more than necessary, I’m gonna respect that.

Lucas, deadpan: I’m sure that’s so challenging for you.

Riley interrupts their bickering, entering with Farkle and carrying bubble teas (Boba, an LA trend) for them to try. As they hand them out, Riley agrees with both points. They should try to enjoy their first visit to Los Angeles, but they do need to remember why they’re here. Isadora doesn’t want it to be a big deal, but it still matters. They need to make sure that above all else, regardless of whatever else they do, the priority is her.

The group nods along, half-distracted by the bubble tea. Their reactions to the drink are somewhat humorous, especially Lucas, who just looks confused as he drinks it.

As if on cue, Isadora returns from the estate meeting and finds them grouped in the other room. Farkle hands her the last bubble tea, which she takes but doesn’t drink. Riley pretends as though they weren’t just talking about her, asking her what she thinks she wants to do today.

Isadora is already exhausted, physically and emotionally. She claims she doesn’t feel like doing anything but resting. Maya fails to hide her disappointment, making Isadora brush them off.

Isadora: No, look, you all should go out. Do not let me… be a thing. I’ll be fine, go explore. Have fun.

Zay: Are you sure?

Isadora: I wouldn’t say it if I wasn’t.

Isadora retreats. Riley searches for a compromise, leading the charge after her.

INT. BEVERLY HILLS HOTEL - ROOM A - DAY

Riley catches up with Isadora, stating that they can split up. The others can go out, while she and Lucas hang around here with Isadora. They would love to just chill with her.

Riley, pointedly: Right, Lucas?

Lucas: Uh, yeah. Yeah, that’s cool.

Already acting like a married couple, it seems. Farkle and Zay exchange amused looks. Maya assures Isadora that she’ll fill her in on everything when they come back.

Then she takes Zay and Farkle’s arms, eyes already twinkling with adventure.

Zay: So… what, then?

Maya: Don’t fret, Babineaux. I have lots of ideas.

EXT. LOS ANGELES - DAY

Song Cue ♫ ♪ “I Love LA” as performed by Randy Newman || Instrumental

Randy Newman sets the scene as we get our quintessential montage of exploring LA. The divas are at full enthusiasm as they make their way throughout iconic Los Angeles spots. We’re talking sunglasses on, selfies abound, three star performers in the city that might very well be home to them someday. Good, fun times only!

EXT. PERSHING SQUARE - DAY

Maya, Zay, and Farkle are in Pershing Square, having covered the tourist spots and now exploring downtown Los Angeles. Maya and Zay are still energized, but Farkle seems to be tiring as he settles in the shade by one of the fountains. He’s lost in his own head when Maya turns on him, asking his opinion on which landmark they should visit next.

Farkle admittedly wasn’t listening, so he isn’t much help. He comments that Zay and Maya should go on and do whatever they want, he’s probably going to take a minute to rest. Maya asks if he’s okay, Farkle assuring her he is. They shouldn’t wait up for him.

Maya: I mean… you know, your mother would kill me if she knew I left you alone.

Zay: Yeah, you’re not going to like… I mean…

Farkle: Believe me, Isaiah, if I were planning to off myself again, downtown Los Angeles would not be my venue of choice.

Well, guess they’ll have to take his word. Maya tells him to text her when he catches up. Farkle watches them go, exhaling and reclining back on the edge of the fountain. He’s more easily exhausted than he used to be, and he knows he doesn’t have anyone to blame but himself.

He stares up at the cloudless LA sky. Sunny, blue, miles away from the overcast Manhattan.

Farkle pushes himself back into a sitting position. Walking might do him some good, but at his own pace. He starts heading down the block, poking around for himself.

EXT. LOS ANGELES THEATRE - DAY

Farkle comes across the Los Angeles Theatre, a historic performing arts theater. He stares up at the elegant signage, some of that sparkle coming back into his eyes.

INT. LOS ANGELES THEATRE - DAY

There are other folks milling about in the lobby of the gorgeous theater, so Farkle does his best to skate under the radar. His former power of being invisible comes in handy, allowing him to get a good look around without trouble. When he spots a door to backstage propped open for maintenance, he freezes.

Farkle: No way...

It’s too good to be true. It’s like a television show. He can’t. He shouldn’t…

Moments later, Farkle slips through the open door and disappears into the theater.

INT. LOS ANGELES THEATRE - STAGE - DAY

Farkle’s shoes tread cautiously as he eases out from the wings and onto the stage, eyes wide as he takes in the grand house auditorium in front of him. This is another level beyond Triple A -- he feels dwarfed on the stage, a starry-eyed hopeful suddenly amongst the big leagues.

He stands front and center, taking a deep breath. When is he ever going to have an experience like this again… and no one is around… what would Rachel Berry do…

Song Cue ♫ ♪ “Man About Town” as performed by Young Frankenstein Original Broadway Cast || Performed by Farkle Minkus (starting at 00:32)

The performance is entirely a capella, and timid to start. Farkle sings the verses slowly, throwing us back to his first ever performance in AMBITION -- from a feral, spiraling sophomore ready to kill for the spotlight on the AAA stage to back from the dead and standing on the cusp of a whole new world. It’s pointed how much change he’s endured since that first introduction, how much we’ve come to understand about him and what he’s come to learn on his own.

Despite his nerves, Farkle is a natural, and it’s not long before he’s fully into it. He spins and paces along the front of the stage, milking the faux moment of starlight.

He throws his arms out and belts out the last a capella note, throwing his head back and basking in the glow. He exhales, smile bright on his face.

Attendant: Hey!

Farkle’s bravado crumbles immediately. He jumps violently and curses, squinting towards the house like a deer in headlights. A THEATER ATTENDANT is standing in the back, asking him how the hell he got in and what he thinks he’s doing. Farkle apologizes profusely, launching into a frenzied explanation.

Farkle: I was just -- I saw that the door was open, and -- what you need to know about me is that I’m a performer. It’s in my blood. So I see an opportunity, I need to… there’s a whole other layer, too. See, earlier this year I tried to kill myself -- long story --

Long story or short, the attendant isn’t interested. He tells Farkle to scram and he starts to obey, when another voice disrupts the fray.

An esteemed-looking gentleman steps in through the house doors, asking again who Farkle thinks he is. Although Farkle stammers over his own introduction, the man’s is effortless and intimidating -- this is JONATHAN TURNER, a talent agent and producer. He looks at Farkle with reserved intrigue.

Turner: You sing like that all the time? Or just on a good day?

Farkle: … I don’t deliver anything less than excellence, sir.

There’s a bold promise. But Farkle is a Minkus -- he’s been trained for business since he could talk. Turner explains that he’s currently working on a production of Pippin, and they’ve been searching for some fresh, young talent. If he can sing like that again in front of their creative team, they might have more to discuss.

So this is really how it happens out here in the city of angels, huh? Turner approaches the stage and jots down information on a scrap of paper from his pocket, passing it to Farkle. If he can come back tomorrow at that time, killer performance in tow…

Attendant: Unbelievable…

Unbelievable, indeed. Farkle stares at the information in his hands, Turner giving him an offhand goodbye as he saunters back out just as casually as he entered.

Riley, pre-lap: It’s like we’ve forgotten what this trip is about.

INT. BEVERLY HILLS HOTEL - ROOM B - DAY

Riley is pacing the floor of the boys room, although from the way all of their things are starting to disperse throughout both rooms, Eric was probably right that their set arrangements won’t last long. Lucas listens to her from his chair by the window, originally looking out towards Beverly Hills but now taking in an entirely different view.

Riley: And I get it, I mean, I do. It’s amazing that we’re out here, especially since most of us have never even been here before. But… Isadora invited us to come along because she needed support. And it’s like we’re not even doing that.

Lucas: Kind of hard to when she won’t let us.

Riley: I don’t know. I just think… I can’t imagine. [ shaking her head ] I can’t imagine grappling with what she is right now.

Lucas frowns. It seems like he wants to reassure her, but he doesn’t have the words. So he tries for action instead, closing the space between them and coming to stand with her.

His touch is tentative but intentional, gently placing a hand on her shoulder. Crazy how things change, how they can do this now -- how they’re still Riley and Lucas, but they’re something else now too. And it’ll take some getting used to, but it’s evident he intends to try.

Riley glances at him, offering a weak smile. She takes his hand in her own, linking their fingers together between them. The moment lingers, uncertain and new but more than welcome.

It’s interrupted by Isadora reentering the other room, the door to the hall shutting behind her. Lucas disconnects their hands as Riley leads the way into the other room to greet her.

INT. BEVERLY HILLS HOTEL - ROOM A - DAY

Riley asks her how lunch with Eric went, as he made sure that Isadora got some food in her after an exhausting morning. She claims it was fine, and when Lucas asks her for details on how the meeting with the estate manager went, she dodges the question. Not too much to report, in her opinion. She needs to keep her mental facilities up for tomorrow more than anything else.

Ah, yes. Tomorrow. The funeral. Riley and Lucas exchange a look, the latter questioning if Isadora is feeling prepared for that. She states no -- how could she be -- but she’ll deal. And she hates the way they’re acting around her, like they’re walking on eggshells.

Isadora: You don’t have to treat me like a house of cards. I’m not going to keel over if you breathe too hard.

Riley: That’s not it. I think we’re just --

Lucas: You know we don’t think that.

Isadora: Maybe, but your actions say otherwise. [ to Lucas ] You and I have never been soft with one another. Not in this kind of way, where you’re so obviously tip-toeing around me. I’m sorry if I’m being unpredictable --

Riley: You don’t have to apologize.

Isadora: But I just want things to feel normal, alright? Like, if my best friends could just treat me like they always do, then maybe the absence wouldn’t be so pronounced. If everything else could stay the same, then a major change wouldn’t feel so earth-shattering. So can we just… I don’t know, can we just stop? I already feel bad that you’re giving up your time in Los Angeles to sit around and pity me, I don’t need to hear it in your voice, too.

Isadora settles down on the bed, rubbing her face. Riley hesitates before stepping forward and joining her on the bed. She acknowledges Isadora’s points about their behavior -- which they’ll try to rein in -- but she shouldn’t feel bad about their choice to stay with her. That’s not what they’re there for.

Riley: Ever since I came to Triple A, you have been in my corner. You guys were my people, even in moments where things fell apart. So it’s not a chore for me to be here with you, Dora. As long as you want me here, that’s where I’m going to be.

Lucas nods along, in total agreement. Isadora lifts her gaze to look at them, landing on Lucas.

Lucas: You know where we stand.

That she does. They may have stumbled this past year, but the three of them are a team. It’s never going to be too much to ask that they stand by each other.

Song Cue ♫ ♪ “You’ve Got A Friend” as performed by Carole King || Performed by Riley Matthews

Riley delivers the sentiment through this gentle ode to friendship, reiterating the point that she will always have Isadora’s back -- all she has to do is ask. Lucas saunters over to sit down with them after the first verse, he and Riley supporting her from either side although they know her well enough to respect her personal space.

Although Isadora isn’t fully convinced, the solidarity is sincere, and she clearly appreciates it. We hold on the three of them for a moment more… how far this trio has come in two years…

INT. BEVERLY HILLS HOTEL - ROOM B - NIGHT

As expected, the room arrangements have been completed mixed up. Riley has swapped space with Farkle, sleeping peacefully with Lucas and Zay on either side of her. Although quite impressively taking up as little space as possible -- almost like he has practice -- Lucas stretches out an arm that covers Riley’s face. She grumbles and turns over, inadvertently shoving Zay so that his legs dangle off the edge of the bed.

INT. BEVERLY HILLS HOTEL - ROOM A - NIGHT

Farkle is curled up on the chaise, tired enough to actually make sleep there work. Maya is in bed with an eye mask tangled up in her hair rather than on her face. It’s not the prettiest of sights.

A thud from the other side of the wall and Zay’s quiet yelp does nothing to stir Farkle, but Maya sits up in confusion. Looking around, she discovers that the other half of the bed is empty.

Maya climbs out of bed with a yawn, sliding into a pair of hotel slippers. She checks her phone for the time and sends a quick text to Isadora before setting out to search.

EXT. BEVERLY HILLS HOTEL - POLO LOUNGE PATIO - NIGHT

Maya can’t help but take in the beauty of each spot she searches, the hotel taking on an ethereal vibe in the moonlight. The Polo Lounge looks particularly stunning, decorated with a multitude of flowers, stars shining down on the patio. Isadora sits on a step looking up at said stars, not noticing Maya until she’s standing next to her.

Maya: Can’t sleep?

Isadora shakes her head. Maya nods towards the table behind them, where an unlighted candle and small vase of fuchsia flowers sit ready for the morning.

For a moment, they sit in silence. Then, Isadora tentatively apologises. Confused, Maya questions what she’s sorry for.

Isadora: Valerie made a promise to you and your mom, and she broke it. Now your plans are ruined. I’d be mad if I were you, so I thought...

Maya: Izzy, I’m not mad. At you or Val. [ a beat ] I mean, I’m upset. I lost a mentor, my lifelong role model. But you lost your mom, however much of one she was. I can’t even…

Maya can’t wrap her head around it. She shakes her head wordlessly.

Maya: You don’t need to be worrying about me being mad at you, or our friendship being ruined, or anything like that. After everything we’ve survived this year, this is not going to be the thing that tears us apart.

Isadora manages a weak smile. On reflex, Maya leans forwards as if to hug her, but catches herself in time.

Isadora: I think... a hug is okay right now.

Well, that’s a surprise. She opens her arms but Isadora tenses and shakes her head rapidly. Maya leans back, eyebrows raised in amusement.

Isadora: Maybe you could... rest your head on my shoulder. For like half a minute.

If that’s all she’s going to get, she’ll take it. Maya shuffles her chair closer before putting her head on Isadora’s shoulder. She tenses, but relaxes after a moment, resting her head on Maya’s.

INT. BEVERLY HILLS HOTEL - ROOM B - DAY

It’s funeral day, and the mood is gentle amongst Isadora’s posse. They’re all getting ready, Farkle slipping past Riley through the door between rooms in a suit and tie combination. She gives him a smile, dressed in a simple black dress with three-quarter sleeves and a flare skirt.

Her smile widens when she sees Lucas, dressed about as nicely as he was for the Jacobs Gala only with a more demure color palette. He’s struggling to loop a tie around his neck, not at all familiar with the common formal item. Riley approaches, coming to stand in front of him.

Riley: Having trouble?

Lucas, sheepishly: Believe it or not, I’ve never had much of a need for these.

Riley: You, fashion extraordinaire? I can’t believe it. [ with a smile ] Here.

Riley takes over, gently tying it for him. The moment is quiet between them, Riley finishing the knot and smoothing the neck of the tie along his torso. It’s only then that they really recognize how close they’re situated, how different their dynamic is now that allows for, even encourages, this proximity.

It’s a strange thing to be figuring out in the midst of something so tragic. Lucas murmurs a thanks, keeping his eyes on their feet. Riley examines him, not sure how to navigate the situation either. She knows how the exchange should feel, how she wants them to be, but the circumstances complicate things. Not to mention everything they’re carrying from the past…

Riley: Lucas… you know that --

Lucas lifts his gaze to look at her just as they’re interrupted, Jack knocking lightly and stepping into the room. He asks how things are going and if they’re nearly ready to leave. Riley and Lucas step away from one another, Riley exhaling a laugh.

Riley: Crisis averted in here. The others should be basically ready, I think.

INT. BEVERLY HILLS HOTEL - ROOM A - DAY

Maya is finishing up styling herself at the vanity, calling over Isadora to take a seat. She doesn’t need too much done with her hair, so Maya focuses on doing some light makeup. Isadora is in a pantsuit, and Maya brings the glamour that Valerie so loved with a black sparkly dress.

Behind them, Riley shuffles in and rummages through Isadora’s suitcase to look for something in particular. She produces a delicate silver necklace with a star hanging from it in victory. It’s one we’ve seen before, as part of Isadora’s star-themed prom outfit. Isadora notices it in the mirror and Riley smiles.

Riley: I thought you might want to wear something connected to your mom, so... I got Lucas to sneak it in while you were packing. [ nervously ] Did I overstep?

Isadora: No, it’s fine. [ a beat ] I guess a necklace would look nice.

As Riley lights up and brings the necklace over, Maya questions how it’s connected to Valerie. In a quiet voice, Isadora explains that she gave it to her on prom night to go with the dress. When she has the necklace, she turns the star over to reveal an engraving:

“To my star. Love, Mom.”

Riley tears up, Maya clearing her throat. But Isadora remains blank. She passes it back to Riley so that she can help secure it around her neck.

Zay knocks lightly, poking his head in between the rooms. Maya takes over the vanity to double check her appearance, so Isadora moves over towards him.

Zay: How you holding up? We’re basically good.

Isadora: Well, I’m ready. Don’t know about those two.

Maya and Riley assure the pair that they’re ready. Pretty much. Almost. Just hang on one more second. Zay sighs before offering his arm in the same mock gentlemanly support that he did at the Artists of Color Mixer.

Zay: Ready?

Isadora playfully rolls her eyes, relieved at the lack of heavy tension that she’s felt with everyone else so far today. She takes his arm gently, then changes her mind and takes his wrist instead. He gives her a small, reassuring smile, the two of them heading out.

EXT. FUNERAL SERVICE - DAY

Isadora’s crew arrive at the venue where the funeral is being held, a pleasant, unassuming funeral home in the heart of Valerie’s neighborhood when she was growing up. In the back is a lush, spacious outdoor space where the reception will be held in conjunction with the foyer.

Isadora leads the group, the six of them coming to stand in front of the steps to the parlor in their black tie best. She swallows, marching up the steps without comment.

INT. FUNERAL SERVICE - PARLOR - DAY

The interior of the space is beautiful and intricate, adding a semblance of Valerie’s unmistakable glamor to the whole affair. Even in death, her presence is palpable. Theresa rushes up to greet Isadora as she enters, asking how she’s feeling and introducing herself to the group.

She starts to explain the details of how the funeral will proceed. When she mentions Isadora standing up by the casket to meet with guests, her eye is drawn to the closed casket up in the front of the room. Suddenly, Isadora is gripped with panic, imagining her mother unmoving and unseeing in the coffin. It’s plain from the look on her face how disturbing that visual is to her, matched against the living memory of Valerie who always seemed particularly alive.

Theresa quickly assuages her concerns, clarifying that the casket is empty. Valerie has been cremated as per her wishes in her living will. That’s something for them to discuss later, as Valerie did have specific desires about what might be done with her remains when the time came -- although they were all expecting that to be much later. But Isadora doesn’t need to worry about that right now. For now, she just needs to take it one day at a time.

Isadora steps past Theresa, making her way down the aisle between pews to the front of the room. She eyes the empty casket, expression blank… then, her gaze drifts to the large wreathed photo of Valerie on display. It’s the first she’s seen of her mother since she heard the news, and even the photo on display doesn't feel like her. It’s caught between her star persona and the Valerie Isadora knew -- hard to say which version is being mourned this afternoon.

Isadora swallows, unable to tear her eyes away from the photo. As Maya’s uncharacteristically delicate mezzo floats in…

Song Cue ♫ ♪ “Fly Away” as performed by Poe || Performed by Maya Hart (up to 3:40)

Maya’s slated performance as an homage to Valerie acts as the backdrop for a montage of the funeral, taking us through each step of the ceremony. A priest and former friend of Valerie’s leads most of the speaking, our crew and dozens of other guests listening in the pews. Riley wipes tears as subtly as she can manage.

Isadora shakes hands with mourners young and old, famous and plain, and accepts their condolences. Although she manages a smile now and then, the experience is obviously uncomfortable for her. So many people her mom inspired and touched, yet she doesn’t know any of them. It’s a separate world, one that the two of them never bridged.

Maya’s solo is one of the most grounded renditions she’s ever delivered, nothing glitzy or distracting about it. It’s also the most emotive she’s been this entire time, her defenses coming down and eyes glossy as she performs. It’s an honor to be performing at the goodbye of one of your most idolized heroes -- but she’d rather there be no reason for it. A bittersweet sensation, and the crack in her facade that shows just how much she’s hurting over the loss as well.

As the final piano and woodwind takes us out, the ceremony transitions to the reception…

EXT. FUNERAL SERVICE - RECEPTION - DAY

Guests are milling about in the gorgeous outdoor gardens, enjoying one another’s company and observing the displays to Valerie’s life that have been set up all throughout the lawn.

Isadora stands on her own amongst the guests, an untouched drink in hand. She watches the people around her, many household names. Some go to approach her, but with the way her arms are wrapped around herself and the hint of a glare on her face, they leave her alone.

Jack, however, isn’t deterred. He saunters up to join her, acting nonchalant.

Jack: How are you doing?

Isadora: I don’t know a fucking thing about any of these people.

Ignoring the foul language, Jack listens as Isadora goes on to say that her mom inhabited a whole world that she knows nothing about. Valerie was going to give it all up to move to New York and live with Isadora… but she couldn’t follow through. Yet again. The anger and spite are clear in her words -- not the most conventional of emotions at a wake, but just as valid.

Unsure how to respond, Jack provides Isadora with an awkward “there, there” pat on the shoulder. Isadora frowns at him, and they fall into an uncomfortable silence.

Meanwhile, Maya is fielding compliments from other mourners on her performance. Farkle stands by her, the two of them conversing in between interruptions from other guests. They’re offhandedly discussing both of their interactions with Isadora in the last couple of days, wondering if there’s more they could be doing to help her.

Maya: Look, I know Friar thinks I’m a sociopath --

Mourner, interrupting: Lovely performance, darling. She would have loved it.

Maya, brightly: Oh, thank you so much. [ back to casual ] But I stand by my stance that normalcy is what Isadora wants. If she wanted me to sit with her and sob about how much I miss Val and how unfair all of this is then believe me, I could do that too. But that’s not what she wants, so that’s not what I’m going to give her.

Farkle: I suppose. But she’s not exactly practicing what she’s preaching. She’s letting all of us have normalcy --

Mourner 2, interrupting: [ in tears ] Such a gorgeous performance. You’re a gift.

Maya, brightly: Thank you so much.

Farkle, once they’re gone: But she’s not taking any of it for herself. She’s isolating.

Maya: Tell me something I don’t know.

Zay disrupts the conversation next, just as Farkle gets a reminder on his phone. Glancing at the screen, he sees that he has thirty minutes until his audition at the Los Angeles Theatre… if he decides he’s going to do it. He awkwardly starts to excuse himself, but Zay provides enough of a distraction anyway.

Zay: So, I don’t want to alarm you, and I know this is a serious situation and definitely not the time, but… Ariana Grande is here.

Maya, ungodly: WHAT?!

Farkle uses the hysteria as his moment to escape, jogging towards the sidewalk to hail an Uber.

INT. FUNERAL SERVICE - DAY

Other mourners are still inside the home, Riley and Lucas amongst them. Riley is signing the funeral registry for the both of them, taking her time to figure out what to say. She isn’t sure whether Isadora is going to end up with it or not, but she wants it to be clear how much it meant for them to be there for her.

Lucas is letting her handle it, looking at the photo of Valerie instead. It’s evident he has just as many mixed feelings about it as Isadora, knowing he should be respectful and honor her now that she’s gone but unable to let go of everything she did while she was alive. Riley snaps him out of it when she finishes their signature, starting to speak.

Riley: I don’t know, I just can’t wrap my head around it. Death is… so prevalent to the natural order of things, and distinctly unavoidable, but it’s like, you don’t think about it until it’s hitting you. And you never know -- I mean, there’s no way to predict this sort of thing. It’s not about age. It’s not about health. The healthiest person in the world could step off the curb at the wrong time and get rammed by a semi and just like that, it’s over. And it’s like, how are you supposed to grapple with that? That anyone -- anyone you care about, or yourself -- in just one instance could be… but I guess that’s life, isn’t it? [ flatly ] The endless and unstoppable march of time towards a definite end.

Lucas is watching her as she rambles, expression soft. She realizes he isn’t saying much, glancing at him and catching the look on his face.

Riley: It’s like, I just don’t know how we’re supposed to… [ looking at him ] What?

Lucas, quietly: You’re so beautiful.

Oh. Odd timing, maybe, but then maybe that’s exactly it. That’s how we keep going in spite of the guarantee of an end -- because the human experience of feeling and exploring and loving is so beautiful in the mean time. Life is short, and it ends, but that doesn’t make it not worth living.

Riley smiles bashfully, looking back towards the guest registry. Lucas clears his throat, dipping his head down and trying to move past the unintentional emotional outburst. Sorry, buddy, you can’t take a lovesick declaration like that back!

EXT. FUNERAL SERVICE - RECEPTION - DAY

Back outside, Isadora wanders towards an elegant display of Valerie’s life through pictures. Although some feature her career, there are many from her childhood and home life, showing her as a real person rather than just a pop idol.

An elderly couple stand together going through the photos, crying and holding each other. When Isadora approaches, their attention moves to her, and the woman gasps. She clutches onto Isadora’s hands, seemingly unaware of the way Isadora tenses in response. We can’t help but notice the resemblance between the couple standing before Isadora and Valerie’s parents in some of the pictures...

Elizabeth: Oh, Isadora, my apo… I am so sorry this has happened.

Oh, yeah, celebrities have parents too. DANILO and ELIZABETH DE LA CRUZ, Valerie’s parents and Isadora’s grandparents -- who until now, she’d never officially connected with. Isadora gives a tight smile, unsure of what else to do.

Her grandmother pulls her into a hug, which her grandfather soon joins. When they let go, both are wiping tears from their eyes. Elizabeth still holds Isadora’s hands, smiling sympathetically.

Danilo: We were never able to get to know you, but perhaps if this tragedy can give us anything, it’s each other.

Elizabeth: We would love to get to know you more, Isadora.

That’s nice, but it’s a lot to absorb when there’s already too much to process. Isadora pulls her hands from Elizabeth, stammering over her words.

Isadora: Um, that’s very nice… I have to… thank you.

She rushes away, not sparing a glance to anyone as she escapes.

INT. UBER - MOVING - DAY

Farkle is having a stressful time of his own. He’s jammed in LA traffic, naturally, the clock ticking closer and closer to his audition. In quick cuts demonstrating his five stages of grief (“Never thought I’d miss Manhattan drivers!”), the moment they get close enough Farkle opts to just make a break for it. He pushes out of the Uber in standstill traffic and takes off at a run towards the Los Angeles Theatre.

EXT. DOWNTOWN LOS ANGELES - DAY

Farkle tears through the streets in his funeral best, running harder than he’s ran in his entire life. He weaves through tourists, dodges businessmen, accidentally rams into a homeless man. He apologizes, forking over whatever he has in his pocket as compensation -- which, being a Minkus, happens to be a one hundred dollar bill.

Homeless man, dazed: … thank you, crazy white boy!

EXT. LOS ANGELES THEATRE - DAY

Farkle makes it outside the theatre with only a minute to spare, stopping outside the doors and taking a moment to compose himself. He’s overdressed for an audition, and definitely sweaty, but it’ll have to do. He reinstates his Farkle Minkus confidence, marching through the doors...

INT. LOS ANGELES THEATRE - STAGE - DAY

And through the wings, where he makes his way front and center stage. Gearing up to perform on the stage he was never meant to be on for the second time in just a couple of days.

This time, Turner is joined by a couple of other CREATIVE EXECUTIVES. One of them comments on Farkle’s surprisingly formal attire, which he attempts to play off.

Farkle: I like to deliver my best.

Turner asks what he’s planning on performing for them today, in spite of the short notice. Farkle claims he has plenty of songs in his repertoire, but there’s one better suited to right now than anything else he can think of. He’ll be performing “Being Alive,” from the seminal Broadway classic, Company.

As the pianist gets set up with the sheet music from a hefty binder, the third executive asks if Farkle is sure he can handle that number. It’s one of the best, but most challenging, in the Broadway songbook. Not to mention captures a complicated, deep emotional subject for someone so young to try and emulate. Farkle exhales, leveling his gaze.

Farkle: Ma’am, I assure you, I know exactly what it’s all about.

Big promises to keep. The group falls silent and Turner gestures for Farkle to take over. Farkle takes another deep breath, then nods to the pianist.

Song Cue ♫ ♪ “Being Alive” as performed by Company Original Broadway Cast || Performed by Farkle Minkus

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

And boy, does Farkle Xavier Minkus keep those promises. Farkle has given many performances in the last two seasons, in a wide range of genres, intensity, and emotional authenticity. It’s hard for any number to match the emotional rawness of “Santa Fe” (207), but this rendition surpasses it solely due to the catharsis tied into it.

In keeping with many of his better numbers, this performance is supplemented by a chorus of imaginary friends in his head. The rest of our main cast pops in on stage to join Farkle throughout the audition (including ANGELA MOORE, Stuart, and JENNIFER MINKUS), as indicated by the lyric sheet. They give him encouragement, urge him to dig deeper, prompt his energy and growth and confidence as they have since the show began. Only this is a far cry from “It’s All Over,” (111), as this time they’re not tearing him down. They’re rallying behind him, rather than against him.

And that’s all part of the power of the performance. It’s just an audition to Turner and the creatives, but to us, we know the history. We know how we got here. This is not just Farkle expressing his complex emotion through song -- this is Farkle learning a hard lesson, clawing himself out of the darkness, and changing to become something different. He went to Hell and back this season, and whether he’ll be better remains to be seen, but he’s not who he was before.

So when he belts out that last “being alive,” we know how important it is. We know the weight it carries, because there was a time when he almost gave it up. We know just how deeply Farkle understands the beauty and fear and challenge and privilege of being alive.

For what it’s worth, it seems the creative team might also have gotten the message. They’re thoughtfully quiet as Farkle finishes the performance, jotting down notes but unable to break the silence. Farkle stands triumphantly, out of breath, before he manages a slight bow and grateful nod.

Farkle: Thank you for your time.

Then he exits the stage without looking back, disappearing into the darkness of the wings.

EXT. FUNERAL SERVICE - DAY

Eric searches for Isadora. He asks a couple people if they’ve seen her, but no one has.

He heads out of the reception space deeper into the gardens, where the sound of chatter is distant and muffled. Instead, a quiet sniffle can be heard. Eric follows it, and finds Isadora on a bench hidden by shrubbery. A perfect little hiding spot.

Isadora looks up as he approaches. She’s not crying, but she’s close. The hazy look in her eyes shows her current shutdown state.

Eric: I know you’re overwhelmed, so I’m not going to say anything, I’m just going to sit with you. That okay?

Isadora doesn’t answer, but she shuffles so that Eric can sit beside her. They welcome the peace of the garden. Voice barely above a whisper, Isadora starts to talk about how she doesn’t know how to process her mom’s death when it feels as though Valerie has just abandoned her again.

Eric: Abandoned you? Isadora, that’s not what… your mom loved you.

Isadora: How would you know? You only knew the pretty polished version of herself that she presented to the world. But that’s not who she was, was it? She was a drug addict, a bad mother… she was nothing more than a shallow celebrity. Just like everyone else out there, acting as if they lost their prized show dog.

Isadora gestures back towards the reception. Eric sighs.

Eric: You’re right, I didn’t know your mom. And neither did you, not properly. But it was obvious she wanted you to know the real her -- she wanted to share her life with you. Maybe you should take a look around her house while we’re here. Try to get a better picture of her in your mind.

Isadora: What’s the point? She’s gone.

Eric: You can learn more about people even after death.

Isadora, bitter: Her cause of death tells me everything that I need to know.

Eric shakes his head. Quiet settles on them again for a moment.

Eric: I think you’re afraid to love your mom because that means you’ve lost someone special to you. But you can’t shut off your emotions and pretend you never had a relationship with her. [ a beat ] You’re allowed to love someone in spite of their flaws.

Something about the last sentiment hits Isadora. She frowns, the full impact not yet made, but beginning to stew in her subconscious.

Eric: Just give it some thought, okay?

Isadora: Okay.

After one final sympathetic smile, Eric stands up and heads back. He asks Isadora if she’s coming, but she shakes her head. She needs to be on her own for a bit longer.

INT. BEVERLY HILLS HOTEL - ROOM B - DAY

Bright and early the next morning, almost the crack of dawn. Sunlight is just beginning to filter into the window. On the bed, Lucas and Riley are knocked, having fallen asleep while talking late last night. Riley is leaning against him, his arm around her shoulders.

Zay is crashed on the chaise chair, taking his due turn and avoiding another tumble. Maya creeps into the room, making a disgusted face at Riley and Lucas. She crawls along the edge of the bed, leaning over Zay and poking him awake without disturbing the others. He swats at her.

Maya: Zayby. Get up. I have a surprise.

Zay: Go away, blonde devil. Don’t you sleep?

Maya: Not when there’s glamor afoot. Come on.

She nudges him until he nearly rolls off the chaise, lightly cursing. Not the fuck again. Maya grins as he finally relents, agreeing to come with her.

Maya, in a whisper: That’s the spirit. Man of my own heart.

Zay: That’s the most insulting thing you’ve ever said to me.

INT. BEVERLY HILLS HOTEL - ROOM C - BALCONY - DAY

Eric is also up early, pacing while on the phone with Theresa. He’s trying to negotiate if there’s any way they can just hold Valerie’s estate for a longer stretch of time. Isadora isn’t in a place to want to explore it right now, but he knows if she misses it she’ll regret it later. If they could just have a little more time to ease into the idea…

Unfortunately, their hands are tied. Not to mention Isadora isn’t conveniently located, and they’d hate for her to have to make a whole other trip out here to do something so emotionally taxing. If she’s going to go through Valerie’s things, it has to be now.

Eric accepts the defeat, thanking her either way. Theresa claims that she’ll hold off on sealing Isadora’s agreement to basically sign away all of it until they leave, so she has a little more time to truly consider it.

INT. BEVERLY HILLS HOTEL - ROOM A - DAY

This morning, though, Isadora isn’t considering anything. She’s still asleep when everyone else has gotten up for the morning, Riley and Lucas quietly entering the room to find Farkle reading Pride & Prejudice on the chaise at the foot of her bed. They all figure Isadora is going to be catching up on rest after the draining day yesterday.

Farkle claims he can hang around with her while Riley and Lucas go do something in LA. They’ve already given up enough of their time, and he’s happy to contribute his fair share.

Riley: Oh, well, we really don’t mind --

Farkle: Riley, all you have done this trip is be egregiously self-sacrificing and make the rest of us feel guilty for not being so self-sacrificing. Then when I want to be, you can’t accept the charity? [ a beat ] Be realistic. There has to be something you all want to do.

Lucas, with a shrug: I mean, it’s not like --

Riley: Well, you did mention the LA Zoo --

Farkle: Of course. [ rolling his eyes ] A historic and cultural epicenter at your fingertips, and you want to go to the zoo.

Lucas seems like he has some choice words for Farkle, but Farkle avoids them by reiterating his stance that he’s fine with staying with Isadora. They should go do whatever they want to do in the city while they’re still here -- even if it’s as nerdy as going to the zoo.

Lucas: Nerdy? Coming from you?

Riley defuses the friction before it can spark, thanking Farkle and directing Lucas to go get ready. She asks Farkle one more time if he’s sure, but he merely waves her off.

Once he’s alone again, Farkle glances to Isadora sleeping. Then he looks to his phone, hopeful for any news on the audition.

Nothing. He releases a sigh, stretching off the edge of the chaise.

EXT. RODEO DRIVE - DAY

Maya and Zay are making their way along the glamorous streets of Beverly Hills. They’re having their Pretty Woman moment, sipping trendy Los Angeles smoothies infused with charcoal and vitamins as they saunter down the sidewalk and window shop the expensive brands.

Zay: I feel like I can taste the charcoal. [ another sip ] Are we supposed to be able to taste it?

Maya: Take it in, Zay. This is it -- the height of elegance. The epitome of fashion. Our future, laid out before us.

Zay: Way to harpoon 5th Avenue. What kind of New Yorker are you?

Maya nudges him, but then acknowledges his point. She lowers her voice to a whisper, claiming she has to tell him a dark secret.

Maya: I always thought New York City was it. Broadway was the only way, and I wouldn’t be fulfilled anywhere else. But I don’t know… ever since we’ve been here, I could see myself here. An Angelino, absorbing the sunlight and mingling with the cultural elite. It’s a different world out here, but it’s not worse. Just another avenue towards the dream.

So maybe the plan isn’t as iron-clad as Maya always thought. Zay grants her that freedom, claiming they’ve got a whole year to figure this shit out of where they want to end up. For him, he only knows one thing.

Zay: Next year, I’m focusing on me. I’m pulling a Maya Hart, tunnel visioning my future. All the rest of it, romance and all that bullshit, it’s not worth it. I could be doing way better things with my time.

Maya: Yeah, getting dumped will do that to you.

Maya takes a pointed sip of her smoothie. Zay is stunned, wondering what the hell she’s talking about -- only he blurts it out in a way that confirms her theories, rather than seeming innocent. Maya rolls her eyes.

Maya: Oh, come on, Babs. Was I not supposed to know you’ve been canoodling with Charlie like all year long? You two had the most palpable non-antagonistic tension at Triple A. It’s like I could see the little thirst hormones buzzing between you. I’m self-centered, not blind.

Zay, grimacing: Don’t tell Charlie that. I think he’d have a heart attack.

Not-so-secret trysts aside, Maya agrees with his assessment. Next year is the time when things really matter, and Zay is too bright a star not to shine with everything he’s got. If that takes a little single-mindedness, so be it. Maya links her arm with his.

Maya: We’re going places, Zay Babineaux. You and me, our names are going to be in lights soon enough. Mark my words.

Zay will drink to that. They clink their smoothies together in celebration.

INT. BEVERLY HILLS HOTEL - ROOM A - DAY

Isadora is up and moving, having gotten herself showered and dressed but not having the energy for much else. She crashes onto the bed as Farkle reenters from the other room, sarcastically complimenting her finally managing to get up.

Isadora: You’re charming. No pity to give, hm?

Farkle: Tit for tat. If you can be snarky to me after I nearly die, I can dish a little back.

Fair enough. Farkle perches himself on the bed while Isadora pushes herself upright. He questions if she really plans to just lay around all day. When she states she doesn’t have any other bright ideas, nor the motivation to do much else, Farkle doesn’t accept it. He states that sitting around isn’t going to do any good. She needs to move. Get active, body and mind.

Farkle: Doing nothing seems like the solution, but it doesn’t help. Believe me, I would know.

Isadora: So, what? What’s your grand proposal, then?

Farkle: First? Getting you out of this hotel. I know it’s Maya’s sanctuary, or whatever, but it’s been your prison basically since we got here. You need to get out, get your mind off it all. Think about something else for a change.

Although he’s being honest, it seems as though Farkle isn’t just talking about mourning Valerie. He’s got things he wants to forget for a minute too, although Isadora doesn’t notice. She doesn’t seem convinced.

It’s going to take a little more nudging to get her going. Thankfully, Farkle has never been short of theatricality to get a job done…

Song Cue ♫ ♪ “Electric Love” as performed by BORNE || Performed by Farkle Minkus

Farkle gradually launches into the upbeat tune, channeling all of its electric energy into getting Isadora up and moving. He needles at her until she relents, rolling her eyes and climbing out of bed. Farkle dances around the room up through the first verse, leading the way into the hall…

INT. BEVERLY HILLS HOTEL - HALLWAY - DAY

And continuing the parade into the chorus. It’s a fun change of pace from Farkle’s usual musical selections, a little pop thrown into the mix of Broadway classics and cynical alternative.

EXT. LOS ANGELES - DAY

Farkle continues the march out into the city, Isadora trailing behind him and eyeing him with her usual level of exasperation and confusion. Still, there’s a bit of that fascination -- and perhaps endearment? -- thrown in as well, and as the song progresses and they weave their way through the Los Angeles streets, it’s as if we can see some of the weight lifting off her shoulders.

Definitely putting other things on her mind, no doubt about that.

EXT. BEVERLY HILLS HOTEL - POOL SIDE - DAY

The pool is more crowded in the afternoon than late evening, families and guests enjoying the LA sunshine. Jack is as well… sort of. He’s seated at a table safely away from the water, typing away on his computer and sorting through AAA work emails.

From the expression on his face, they’re not all good. We get a glimpse of the one he’s reading, detailing some new leadership roles that will be implemented via the school board the following year. Just as Jack is digging into it, Eric arrives with drinks and plops down in the seat across from him. He gently shuts his laptop.

Eric: This trip isn’t about work, remember? Margarita?

Jack happily accepts the drink, but he opts to be candid with Eric. He gives him the low down of what Evelyn told him after the school board trial, how there is going to be inevitable change coming to Triple A next year. He doesn’t know what that entails quite yet, but he gets the feeling it’s not going to be good.

Eric absorbs this grim reality, then offers his best optimistic smile.

Eric: Well. Good thing we got this mutual partnership thing figured out just in time.

Point made -- whatever is headed their way, they’ll face it together. For real, this time. Jack exhales half a laugh, nodding and raising his glass in mock cheers.

Bring it on, school board. Bring it on.

EXT. LOS ANGELES - DAY

Isadora and Farkle leave the Getty, rather pretentious people pushing through the doors around them. They start to walk down the sunny Los Angeles street, Isadora looking through a pamphlet from the museum. She eventually stuffs it into her pocket when she sees that there’s nothing of interest in it.

Farkle had been peering down at the pamphlet, so he moves his focus to Isadora. There’s the ghost of a smile on her face, worries temporarily forgotten. It’s nice to see. She catches him looking and gives him a funny look. He looks away, but now they’re both properly smiling.

Isadora, softly: You’ve somehow managed to actually improve my mood. Thank you. I needed this... I needed to stop wallowing.

Farkle’s smile brightens. He asks her if there’s anything else she wants to do while they’re out. She ponders on it, and then gets an idea.

Isadora: Maybe. But I think I need to get something first.

Intriguing. Farkle raises his eyebrows, Isadora not explaining further as she leads the way.

EXT. LOS ANGELES ZOO - DAY

Nerdy as it may be, Riley and Lucas are clearly having a good time at the zoo together. They’re laughing about something inane as they approach the giraffe pen, Riley brightening at the prospect of feeding them. She jogs up to the zookeeper who is handling the food, swapping a $5 for the chance to interact with the animals.

Lucas saunters up to join her, making an offhand comment about how if this is a date, then he probably should’ve paid for that. Not that he exactly has the spare funds to do so. Riley gives him a look, elbowing him playfully as they start walking towards the feeding spot.

Riley: The guy paying for everything is a dated convention anyway. Besides, like I’ve said before, I’m nothing if not --

Lucas: Unconventional. Believe me, I know.

Riley beams. She goes on to point out that their relationship in it of itself has been far from conventional, and she doesn’t see why that should change just because the technicalities of their dynamic do. As long as they maintain the foundation of what their relationship has always been based on -- friendship, mutual respect -- then the rest will fall into place.

Lucas nods along, but it’s clear he’s not as self-assured as Riley. She glances at him, growing more serious as she pulls them to the side of the giraffe pen so they can actually talk for a second. She explains that she’s been trying to find a way to say this basically since the last week of school, but there’s never been a good time or she keeps getting interrupted.

Lucas, deadpan: You’re not... already breaking up with me? Think that would be a world record.

It’s said like a joke, but Lucas doesn’t deliver it with his usual level of aloof confidence. Riley nips that notion in the bud, shaking her head emphatically and claiming it’s not about that.

Riley: Sort of the opposite, actually --

Lucas: The… opposite of breaking up?

Riley: Look, I just wanted to be clear -- I know so much has happened in the last year. All part of our unconventionality. [ a beat ] Everything with Farkle’s video and the things he said, I just… you know that’s not true, right? It never was. I know it doesn’t matter anymore, but I want you to know that I never saw you that way. You know that, right?

Riley holds eye contact, not letting him look away. She props her hand with the giraffe food on the pen fence, shuffling from foot to foot as she waits for his response.

The moment is heavy between them, Lucas taking a long moment to look at her. If she had asked him this question earlier, even just a couple months ago, his thought process would be different. His answer would be too.

But so much can change in such a short amount of time.

Lucas: I do. [ a beat ] Now.

That has to be good enough. Neither of them can change what happened in the past, even if they’d like to. All they can do is be present in the here and now, open to whatever the future might hold.

Gently, Lucas reaches out and takes her free hand. Riley glances down at their joined fingers, then gives him a soft smile. They drift a little closer together…

When they’re startled by a giraffe, dipping its head down between them to try and get the food from Riley’s hand. Both of them jump and Riley shrieks, before bursting into laughter. Lucas starts laughing too, catching her when she basically stumbles into him.

I don’t know what you were expecting, Riley. The giraffes are hungry! Once they reorient themselves, Riley reaches out to give the giraffe the food.

Lucas gets a text, checking it as Riley finishes interacting with their new zoo friend. She asks if everything is okay, and he states that Isadora texted him asking if they could talk when they got home. Nothing else.

Much to think about. As the soothing sound of ocean waves float in...

EXT. BEACH - DAY

One of Los Angeles’ many coastal beaches, although not one of the more popular crowded ones like Santa Monica. This one has fewer patrons dotting the shoreline, and seems to be a quieter, more local bunch. A secret spot for those who know the area well.

The kind of thing Valerie would know.

Isadora and Farkle walk along the water, the latter carrying both pairs of shoes while Isadora holds a special canister in her hands. It doesn’t take long to realize what it is, as Isadora explains to Farkle the reasons why her mother wanted to be cremated and her exact desires for where she wanted her ashes to be spread.

Isadora: Of course, she’s one of the people who literally wanted her ashes thrown into the ocean.

Farkle: I’d expect nothing less.

Even though she’s carrying out her wishes, it’s clear Isadora is still torn up about it. She avoids eye contact with Farkle as she tentatively expresses her hesitation. She can’t seem to get over the notion that like… yes, her mother is dead, and she’s devastated. But on the other hand, she’s angry at her, too. Because it was her own choices that caused all this, that took her away when they were so... close. Valerie made a stupid decision, and it took her away for good.

Farkle: I don’t know about that.

Isadora: Oh, okay. Thanks. Remind me never to open up to you again.

Farkle: No, I mean, I’m not saying what you’re feeling isn’t… valid, or whatever Eric would say. I just think it’s a bit coarse to put all of the blame on her for something she couldn’t exactly control.

Isadora: I don’t buy that.

Farkle: Would you have blamed me for what I did? Had it worked?

Isadora stares at him, stunned. Farkle is calm, though, genuinely posing the question.

Isadora: That’s… that’s different. You were sick.

Farkle: So was she.

Isadora holds his gaze as the sentiment sinks in. Then she looks away, embarrassed. Farkle doesn’t push it, granting her a change of subject.

Farkle: This whole thing has been kind of surreal, honestly. Seeing all of this grief, thinking that… I mean, just a couple months ago, it could’ve…

Been me. Isadora doesn’t push him, letting him finish the thought at his own pace. He never gets there, but he continues a different train of thought.

Farkle: I’m glad it’s not. I’m happy I’m still here, which I guess is progress. I just know it was difficult enough when it was an active choice I was making, because I thought it would make everything better. [ a beat ] Can’t imagine if it had been an accident.

Farkle’s made his point. Isadora is going to need time -- a lot of time -- to process everything she’s feeling about it, but his commentary did offer a fresh perspective.

The two of them stop in the middle of the beach, ocean running over their bare feet. Isadora opens the tiny urn, hesitating for a moment as she stares down at it.

Then she tilts it over, spreading her mother’s ashes into the ocean to be carried away by the waves. As she wished... even if she expected that moment to be much further off in the future.

Isadora closes the urn and stands up straighter, releasing a deep sigh. She and Farkle stand together and look out towards the horizon, the ocean seeming to stretch on forever.

INT. BEVERLY HILLS HOTEL - ROOM A - NIGHT

Isadora is starting to pack her things, Maya, Riley, and Zay’s laughter echoing from the other room. Lucas pokes his head in, asking what she wanted to talk to him about. Isadora nods, waving him in and pushing aside her things.

They situate on the bed, Isadora taking a moment to compose her thoughts. She explains that after thinking about it, and a weird -- but enjoyable -- day, she’s decided she wants to go to her mom’s estate tomorrow. It’s the last day she’ll be able to, and although she isn’t sure she’ll like what she finds, she feels like she owes it to Valerie.

Lucas, protectively: You don’t owe her anything. I’m not saying --

Isadora: I get it. I get what you mean. And you’re right, I agree. But it’s not just about that. [ with a sigh ] I think I owe it to myself. Because if I don’t go and see this through, then I am going to spend the rest of my life wondering about it. It’s like… the ultimate ghosting, and you know what that does to me.

Lucas: Yeah.

Isadora: So I’m going to do it. I’ll go, I’ll take a look, and then it’ll be done. We can all move on.

Easier said than done, but point made. Isadora inhales another deep breath, meeting his eyes.

Isadora: Just thought it might be better if you were there with me.

Lucas contemplates. He’s never liked Valerie, and complicated feelings aside in current circumstances, that will likely never change.

But he loves Isadora. She’s his family, and they’ve always been in each other’s corners. If she can endure his epic spin out from the last year, then he can certainly spare an afternoon to give her support on what will probably be one of the most difficult things she ever does.

After a moment, he nods. Isadora offers a half a smile, Lucas returning it.

EXT. BEVERLY HILLS HOTEL - POOL SIDE - DAY

On their last full day, the performers are spending it enjoying the California weather and sunshine. Maya and Zay are soaking up the sun, Maya’s sunglasses on and exuding full diva ambience. Farkle sits by the pool while Riley actually enjoys the water, the group of them chatting. Farkle says something snarky and Riley splashes water at him, causing him to get up and retreat back towards his stuff.

When he approaches his chair, he discovers a voicemail on his phone. His expression shifts in an instant, snatching his phone off the chair.

Farkle: Be right back.

Maya: Where are you going?

Farkle: Gotta… I have to make a call.

Zay: Who the hell is calling you?

Fair question, Zay. Farkle doesn’t respond, jogging towards the hotel. Riley watches him go, raising her eyebrows at the other two. Maya shrugs, flipping her sunglasses back on.

INT. BEVERLY HILLS HOTEL - HALL - DAY

Farkle ducks inside, narrowly avoiding ramming into a posh couple of tourists. He lifts the phone to his ear, playing the voicemail that is in fact from Turner regarding his audition.

And… they want him to join their production. The creative team was quite impressed with his talent, and if Farkle thinks he wants a career in performing, this might be the perfect start. Turner gives him details about how the production will rehearse the summer and then run through the fall -- right through senior year.

If Farkle is interested, he should give him a call and they’ll meet up to discuss next steps. Farkle is stunned, frozen as the voicemail ends and he’s suddenly faced with a huge decision.

Stay with his friends (which he just got back) and finish his time at AAA, or follow the dream?

Song Cue ♫ ♪ “Sober” as performed by Demi Lovato || Performed by Valerie De La Cruz (vocals only)

EXT. VALERIE’S ESTATE - NIGHT

The gentle piano guides us into the evening at Valerie’s Hollywood mansion. Theresa unlocks the door for Isadora, Eric and Lucas, but doesn’t go inside herself.

INT. VALERIE’S ESTATE - DAY

As Valerie’s heart wrenching vocals kick in, we see her home as she left it -- glamorous in every sense of the word, but also lived in. Her things are dotted around, left waiting to be used again.

Call me when it’s over ‘Cause I’m dying inside

INT. VALERIE’S ESTATE - STUDY - NIGHT

Isadora takes shaky breaths, Eric and Lucas closeby for emotional support should she need it. She goes into Valerie’s office space, where a marble desk is covered in legal documents relating to Valerie’s move to New York and gaining custody of Isadora. Isadora shifts through the papers, tears welling in her eyes.

Sometimes I just wanna cave And I don’t wanna fight I try and I try and I try and I try Just hold me, I’m lonely

Lucas checks she’s okay. She nods, moving onto another room.

INT. VALERIE’S ESTATE - VALERIE’S BEDROOM - NIGHT

Isadora hesitates before entering. It’s as luxurious as you would expect. The things that stick out to Isadora, though, are the simple, nostalgic ones. A dusty china doll on a shelf with cracks over her face; a baby blanket is placed across an armchair, “Isadora” delicately stitched onto it.

Isadora picks up the blanket and feels the soft texture, holding it close. The tears are falling now, no longer hidden behind iron-clad walls.

I’m sorry to my baby girl For the wounds I left so deep For all the empty promises I couldn’t keep

A frame holding a wrinkled photograph sits on a bedside table. Isadora picks it up -- Valerie in her 20s, dressed simply and standing in a small apartment. In her arms is a baby who she smiles down at with adoration in her eyes.

Unable to look any longer, Isadora puts it down and turns to go to Lucas. He’s already right behind her.

We’ve been down this road before I’m so sorry, I’m not sober anymore

She collapses into his arms, hugging him tighter than she ever has before. Sobs wrack through her, all of the feelings she’s numbed herself to finally escaping. We don’t hear her cries, but she’s practically screaming with grief. She crouches down, Lucas going with her to keep his arms wrapped around her. In the doorway, Eric has to turn away, the sight of Isadora completely breaking down too much to bear.

I promise I’ll get help It wasn’t my intention I’m sorry to myself...

EXT. LOS ANGELES COFFEE SHOP - DAY

Turner is seated at an outdoor table, finishing up a coffee. He raises his gaze when Farkle approaches from down the street, obviously coming to discuss the casting opportunity. Farkle thanks him for coming to meet with him, sliding into the chair across from him. Turner appreciates his professionalism in setting the meeting.

Their pleasant discussion doesn’t last long, though, because Farkle isn’t there to say what Turner wants to hear. Although he’s honored by the offer and can’t imagine a better opportunity… Farkle can’t accept the offer. Not right now.

Turner doesn’t hide his disappointment, but he respects the choice. He inquires as to why Farkle made the decision, which causes him to pause. After a moment, Farkle explains that while he’s always been consumed with chasing the dream, he’s learned pretty recently that there’s a lot more to it than that. It can’t just be about the dream -- there has to be more, otherwise, it’s empty. And there’s a lot back home that he needs to cultivate before he goes leaping into the great unknown. Not to mention...

Farkle: I was raised by a businessman, through and through. My father isn’t perfect, and he taught me some habits I’m probably better off without. But not all of them are without merit. One of the most important would be that when you commit to something, you see it through to the end. Right now… [ thinking about home ] I’ve got some things I need to see through to the end. After that, who knows, but for now… I need to stay right where I am.

Fair enough. Turner concedes, stating that he does admire his maturity for his age.

Farkle: Trust me, it’s relatively new.

Either way, Turner believes he has talent. Depending on where he ends up once he’s done “seeing things through,” he hopes he’ll consider reaching out to catch up. Turner extends a business card in his direction.

Turner: If you find yourself back out in LA, be sure to give me a call.

Farkle accepts the card, looking at it. Representing all of the opportunities that might await him in the future… when the time comes.

Eric, pre-lap: I have no idea how to handle this.

INT. BEVERLY HILLS HOTEL - ROOM C - DAY

Jack is in the midst of finishing packing for their return flight that evening. Eric is pacing, a bundle of nerves now that the adrenaline of getting Isadora through the trip is waning. He wrings his hands.

Eric: I promised Valerie that I would take care of Isa, and I want to. I know I need to. She needs the safety net, but… what if I’m not cut out for it?

Jack: Eric --

Eric: They don’t give you training for this sort of thing. This isn’t something you can study. I’ve never been a parent. What if I’m not -- what if I’m not what she needs?

Jack steps away from his packing, coming to join Eric and stopping his pacing. He takes his shoulders to halt him, waiting for him to meet his eyes.

Jack: Eric. Take a breath.

Eric does as he’s told. Jack waits a moment, searching for the words to make this better. They aren’t easy to find.

Jack: You’re right, there’s no playbook for this sort of thing. You’re going to have to figure it out as you go, so good thing you’re great at improv. [ off Eric’s nervous laugh ] But there is no one better suited for this challenge than you. Regardless of what happens, Isadora is going to know you have her back. That she’s not alone.

Eric nods, trying to accept the words as truth. Jack steps closer, shifting one of his hands to the back of Eric’s neck. That kind of hold men do when they’re sharing intimacy, but can’t do it like normal people.

Jack: Neither are you. Like you said, we’re going to figure it out together. You’re not going to face it alone.

Eric locks eyes with Jack, really taking him in. They hold each other’s gaze for a long moment.

Then Eric sighs, leaning forward and pressing his forehead against Jack’s. The two stay close together, grounding to one another. Preparing for what happens next, distinctly together.

As the melodious hum of our final performance floats in…

Song Cue ♫ ♪ “Endless Night” as performed by The Lion King Original Broadway Cast || Performed by Isadora De La Cruz (feat. AAA Juniors)

EXT. LOS ANGELES - DAY

Shots of the cinematic Los Angeles, in the midst of early morning sunrise.

INT. BEVERLY HILLS HOTEL - ROOM A - DAY

For the first time all episode, Isadora takes the leading vocals on this grief-stricken soliloquy. She starts it alone in her hotel room, looking out the window towards the early morning scape of Beverly Hills. The lyrics aptly highlight the struggle she’s feeling to come to terms with Valerie’s absence, how isolating her loss can make the world feel.

You promised you'd be there whenever I needed you Whenever I call your name you're not anywhere…

Isadora finishes the second chorus, coming to look at herself in the mirror and lingering on her star necklace.

I'm trying to hold on, just waiting to hear your voice One word, just a word will do to end this nightmare…

But the truth is she’s not alone. Far from it. Riley appears in the reflection and comes to join her, gently touching her elbow as the song begins it’s tonal shift about halfway through. Isadora returns half a smile, leading the way towards the other room.

INT. BEVERLY HILLS HOTEL - ROOM B - DAY

The rest of the crew is waiting there, dressed for a journey. Their bags are stacked in the corner, all packed up to go. But they’re not heading to the airport quite yet -- there’s one more thing they want to do.

Isadora passes them all and steps out the door first, Riley and Lucas following after her. The other three follow suit, Maya being the last one out as she closes the door.

EXT. HOLLYWOOD SIGN HIKE - DAY

Maya is the first one leading the march as the six of them do the coveted Hollywood sign hiking trail, taking advantage of the early morning cool to take in the view of Los Angeles one last time. We watch them weave their way through the paths and climb around the trail as the music slowly builds in catharsis. Repeating the hopeful psychology that has gotten them through the season, same as when Maya sang “Winter can’t hold back the spring, no matter how dark it may seem” back in 208.

I know that the night must end and that the sun will rise, I know that the clouds must clear and that the sun will shine.

Isadora stays on the lead vocal, growing more emotional as the music swells and they get closer and closer to the top of their uphill climb. Her riffs are impressive, demonstrating how far she’s come as a performer in the last two seasons.

And how far the six of them have come interpersonally cannot be understated. They’re helping one another as they make the strenuous trek, offering hands as they climb over roots and up rock sides. Farkle almost stumbles and Zay manages to stabilize him, patting his shoulder once he’s upright again. There’s no bickering, no sharp jabs, a far cry from 206 -- for now, they’re a team, finishing their final ascent out of the darkness of this year.

Right up to the highest point on the hike.

The sun will rise…

The six of them take in the breathtaking sight of Los Angeles in the midst of the sunrise, full of hope and promise and energy just about to come alive for another day. They inhale the fresh air, the new day, the entire future seemingly laid out before them. Facing whatever happens next, but not being so afraid of the change as they once were.

The six of them silhouetted against the rising sun is the last shot we see, fading to black.

END OF SEASON.

#213 #episodes #S2 #i love them. i love you all. thank you thank you thank you #until S3...

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ambitionsource · 4 years

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AMBITION Season 2 ♫ “Got A Lotta Livin’ To Do” [ 2.08 ]

CREATED BY Esther (rapunzles) & Maggie (quincywillows) || S2 Tag || Official Page

YOUTH IS WASTED ON THE YOUNG – Devastating news sends the junior class reeling. When decisions are made for all the wrong reasons, everybody must face the consequences. Eric is haunted by signs he may have missed.

62 Minutes (16K words) || CONTENT WARNING: mentions of suicide; underage drinking; mild physical harassment. Take care of yourselves and read with discretion.

[ ← Contingency Plan ] [ S2 Synopsis ] [ World Uncertain → ]

( Follow along with the music on Spotify here! )

INT. AAA - HALLWAY - DAY

Song Cue ♫ ♪ “Lovely” as performed by Billie Eilish & Khalid || Performed by Isadora De La Cruz, Riley Matthews, Maya Hart, Charlie Gardner, Zay Babineaux, and Lucas James Friar

The soft piano eases us into the episode, a long shot of the hallways of AAA less lively than usual. Whereas there is often dancing, laughter, and commotion in the opening hours of the school day, today it’s still.

ISADORA DE LA CRUZ is the first person to appear, standing alone in front of the display case outside the auditorium. There are photographs from Into the Woods up, and that’s what is holding her focus as she delivers the opening verse. As she turns and begins to walk down the hall, CHARLIE GARDNER appears within frame and joins in the vocals, growing more and more distant the further Isadora walks from him.

The whole number progresses with this disjointed sort of feeling -- the students being together, but feeling distinctly apart. The vocal focus shifts from the two of them to MAYA HART then to RILEY MATTHEWS and ZAY BABINEAUX, their voices melting seamlessly into one another due to the heaviness of the delivery.

The moment it all comes together is about halfway through in the second verse, when all of them come together along with LUCAS FRIAR. Zay behind Isadora, Charlie behind Maya, Lucas behind Riley. The six of them look straight at the camera with blank expressions as they march down the hall, seemingly in sync for this one captured moment of grief.

Oh I hope some day I’ll make it out of here...

It’s a long, continuous shot, staying with Maya as she abruptly halts and the other five disperse around her. She’s standing in front of Farkle’s locker. Frozen, transfixed by it. She lifts her hand to touch it and then decides against it, pulling her hand back. She swivels away from it, the riffs of her classmates echoing as she drifts her way back towards the auditorium.

INT. AAA - DRESSING ROOM HALL - DAY

We’re following Maya as she walks, making her way through the hall...

INT. AAA - AUDITORIUM - DAY

And out into the wings, stage lights down and house lights up as she passes through the stage and towards the stairs to the front and center section of seats. The rest of the junior A class is there amongst them, but they’re blurry and out of focus.

Maya settles into one of the chairs, camera rotating around to see the stage. JACK HUNTER, ERIC MATTHEWS, HARPER BURGESS, and SHAWN HUNTER are assembled, expression and demeanors somber as they address the A class. As the song comes to an end and their voices become audible, Jack’s words of understanding still feel far away.

Jack: … understand how overwhelming this might be. Which is why we are going to process it together. If there is anything you need…

The focus is back on Maya, having spun our way around to the front. Easing in on her empty expression…

Cue title sequence.

INT. AAA - AUDITORIUM - DAY

Jack and Eric continue on with their opening remarks, explaining the resources that they have available in light of what has happened with Farkle Minkus. Harper and Shawn nod along, equally as solemn. Harper seems particularly fragile, hands clasped so tightly in front of her she’s turning her knuckles white.

Additionally, as Eric explains, he’ll be available at any hour the next week if any of them need to come talk through what they are feeling about the situation. He emphasizes that the worst thing any of them can do at this time is isolate themselves, and every one of them up on stage -- and any other faculty -- are there for them.

INT. AAA - HALLWAY - DAY

The halls continue to feel muted even though the day marches on. At one end of the hall, NIGEL CHEY talks softly with YINDRA AMINO and JADE BEAMON. He reaches out a hand to touch Jade’s elbow, extending comfort.

A little further down, ASHER GARCIA and DYLAN ORLANDO are having a difficult conversation. Asher isn’t looking at him as he swaps items from his bag to his locker, meticulously nitpicking at the books on the shelves as a distraction. Dylan is leaning against the row with his arms crossed, delicately broaching the conversation.

Dylan: You heard what Mister E said. The worst thing we can do right now is isolate, and that’s all he’s been doing for months.

Asher: I know.

Dylan: That has to be the reason he said any of that stuff, anyway. It’s like you said, it’s like he wants to push people away. I’m not saying it’s right, or anything, and you know I’m on your side. I’m just thinking that --

Asher: Okay, but even if he didn’t mean it, he still said it. And you know I’m not just -- I know what you mean. I do. [ fussing with his backpack ] But at what point do we say okay, this is all I can take? I’ve been pushing the line further and further back because of exactly that, because I don’t want him to be alone, because he’s my friend, but where do we draw the line? When does it finally become too much --

Asher nearly drops his backpack and gasps, catching it and cursing under his breath. He takes a moment and closes his eyes, breathing deeply. Dylan frowns, reaching out and rubbing his shoulder.

When he’s pulled it together, Asher turns to face him. His tone is soft, touching Dylan’s arm.

Asher: You know I’m not going to tell you what to do. You can make your own decisions. I just…

[ Dylan listens attentively. He shifts his hand to touch Asher’s cheek, a subtly encouraging gesture that signals it’s safe to say whatever he needs to say. ]

Asher: Right now, I can’t. I just... need space.

A reasonable request, considering how much he’s already done for Lucas. Dylan nods. Asher gives him a tight smile, sharing a quick kiss before he closes his locker and shuffles down the hall for his next class.

Dylan watches him go, releasing a sigh and leaning back against the lockers.

Jack, pre-lap: It is imperative that we act with caution.

INT. AAA - JACK’S OFFICE - DAY

Our junior faculty is assembled, CORY MATTHEWS joining Harper and Shawn in meeting with Eric and Jack. The principal is seated at his desk, leading the more candid discussion of how they should approach a guaranteed difficult week. Cory says what they’re all thinking.

Cory: I just can’t believe it.

The main takeaway from the meeting seems to be that whether they like it or not, the group of them are role models in this situation. How they handle this will help inform the students on how to handle it, so it’s up to them to be in control of their emotions and act as pillars for the A class to lean on. Harper questions if this means they’re just pretending it didn’t happen, obviously the one struggling the most with keeping her emotions in check.

Eric refutes this take, pointing out that their primary role is still to be a teacher. He warns against initiating conversations about it, as some students may not want to talk about it or address it yet. Those who want to seek conversation will come to them, and if anyone seems in need of counseling then Harper is encouraged to send them his way.

Harper: And what about you? Are you sure you can handle taking on all that extra… have you even gotten to take a moment for yourself?

Eric: When we’re here, our responsibility is for the students. I can handle myself on my own time.

Shawn is the one to point out the other obvious threat -- overreactions. He doesn’t suspect they’ll have any copycats or anything, but then, they didn’t realize it soon enough with Farkle either. The fact of the matter is, there is a lot boiling under the surface of these kids right now because of this, and they’re guaranteed to release that pent up energy eventually. They should be even more vigilant than usual.

Jack seconds the notion. Speaking from experience, some teenagers are very good at concealing what they’re feeling...

INT. AAA - GIRLS DRESSING ROOM - DAY

One such student is Isadora, who is having lunch with Maya. They’re hidden away in the girls dressing room, away from the noise and constant chatter of the cafeteria.

For all intents and purposes, she seems to be handling the news better than others. She’s at least being open and talkative about her attempts to process it, gently nudging Maya into conversation about it.

Isadora: Something similar happened at my last foster home... I won’t go into details, but… it’s like... they kept telling us the same thing over and over again. About feelings, and guilt and all that sort of shit, but none of it really helped. I don’t know what… [ a beat ] This isn’t very helpful either, is it?

Maya isn’t taking to it, that’s for sure. She’s silent, lunch untouched on the countertop next to her. She’s got her feet up on the counter and is hugging her knees, leaning her head against the cool mirror. Not talking, not eating, just… nothing.

Isadora gets the hint, settling into quiet as well. But she assures her that if she does want to talk, she’s there for her.

INT. AAA - ERIC’S OFFICE - DAY

Riley has gone to Eric for lunch, bright with an idea in the chair across from him. It’s a muted sort of enthusiasm, but her eyes are sparkling as she speaks.

Riley: I wanted to run it by you first, though, because I didn’t want to accidentally do something that might make things worse or have some unintentional psychological consequence. I just thought that… it might be nice. For all of us, but also for him. To honor him. [ a beat ] Do you think it would be okay?

Eric: I don’t see any obvious “psychological consequences” in that idea, no. [ smiling ] I think that’s a lovely idea, Riley.

Riley manages a smile. She quickly finishes her food and gathers her things, claiming she wants to get started on organizing it. Eric rises with her, requesting she hold on a second.

He comes around the desk, gently asking if she’s handling everything okay. In light of everything that has happened… he just wants to know. And if there’s anything he can do, can she promise that she will please, please tell him before it gets too deep to come back from.

Riley pauses. Then she pulls her uncle into a hug, the two of them sharing a tight embrace. Every touch means a little bit more right now.

Riley: Promise.

She pulls back first, giving him a smile and heading out. Eric watches her go, a little choked up. He clears his throat, trying to shift back into work mode.

INT. AAA - DANCE STUDIO - DAY

Zay and Charlie are in their usual studio, but they aren’t dancing. The mood is deflated, the two of them sprawled on the floor in what seems to be the start of stretches that never went anywhere. Instead they’re talking, Zay laying on his side and propped up on his elbow. Charlie is leaning back against the mirrors, legs stretched out and feet resting on Zay’s hip.

And even their conversation isn’t its usual rapport. It’s soft and listless, both of them trying to process something that feels impossible to grasp. Zay carries most of it to fill the silence, working through his disbelief and attempting to reconcile that with the collective perspective they all had of Farkle.

Zay: I don’t know. I guess someone that… when they have that sort of personality, you never really think --

Charlie: Could’ve been me.

Charlie says it without thinking, staring at the ballet bars across from them. He only snaps out of his daze when Zay nudges his knee, concern in his features. He repeats the question of what the hell Charlie meant, obviously worried about the statement. Charlie quickly covers it, claiming he just meant that it really could’ve been any of them. Personality and background aside.

Zay doesn’t seem all that placated, so Charlie elaborates. He explains how alone he felt at the end of last year, how easy it is to stumble into those dark places and not really know how to dig yourself out. He’s lucky that he had a support system in place, as well as someone there for him in a way that no one else could be.

He tilts his head to lock eyes with Zay, sincerity shining through his tired gaze.

Charlie: I hope you know how much you mean to me.

The sentiment kind of speaks for itself. Zay softens, placing his hand on Charlie’s leg and gently stroking his knee.

Zay: Ditto.

Charlie waits a moment before placing his hand on top of his. Off their joined hands --

INT. MATTHEWS APARTMENT - NIGHT

Riley and Cory are having dinner together, just the two of them as it may very well be from now on. The two of them skirt around the elephant in the room for a bit until Riley mentions her idea to honor Farkle, stating that that’s what has taken up a majority of her attention.

Tentatively, Riley asks Cory how he’s feeling about the whole thing. Although they don’t give him much credit, he was one of his teachers. He must be thinking about it. So she opens the floor for him to actually get to talk about it instead of putting on a brave face like he does at school. Cory contemplates it.

Cory: Weirdly enough, I keep thinking about first semester.

Riley: Yeah?

Cory: Yeah. Doesn’t have anything to do with the last couple of years, but that’s what I keep coming back to. First week of school isn’t easy for a teacher. Not just because we’re also coming off the freedom of summer, but because there’s a whole new crop of kids to learn about. Not to mention all the others you’re backlogging from other years, but that’s beside the point. At least at Triple A we’re only dealing with about fifty a year, but still a lot to take in.

Riley: I can imagine.

Cory: But Farkle wasn’t like that. It was partially the name -- hard to forget a name like that, so I figured I would match the face pretty easily. But the real reason was because even from the first week, he was always two steps ahead of me. Didn’t matter if it was history or english -- and I do not envy Mr. Norton for having to battle with him in science and math. First week of classes, I’m doing an introduction on Shakespeare, and his hand just shoots up about ten minutes in and he basically takes over the lecture. [ clearing his throat ] I was irritated at the time, a little bit, because it kind of felt like he was stealing my thunder. But came to appreciate it after a while. It was nice to have a student who valued his academic intelligence just as much as his performing ability. [ weakly ] Think maybe I should’ve told him that, at some point.

Riley smiles bittersweetly, reaching across the table to touch his hand. Cory lets out an embarrassed laugh, swiping at his eyes. He holds her hand more securely, locking eyes with her.

Cory: I’m so glad that -- I’m so glad you’re still here with me, Riley. I really, really am.

The statement is loaded, and carries plenty of meaning. Glad she’s there with him and not on the same path as Farkle; glad she’s there with him when everyone else seems to have gone away -- his wife, his son. He’s grateful that, in spite of everything else, she’s still there at his side.

Riley squeezes his hand in return, nonverbally returning the sentiment.

INT. FOSTER HOME - KITCHEN - NIGHT

Isadora is helping BEATRIX TORRES prepare lunches for the younger siblings. Beatrix asks her how she’s grappling with what happened to that classmate of hers, and she brushes it off as if she’s not all that bothered. Sad, of course, but it is what it is. Beatrix doesn’t seem convinced, but before she can question further, STEPHEN VAN HERSCHING requests that Isadora come join them in the dining room.

INT. FOSTER HOME - DINING ROOM - NIGHT

Isadora saunters into the seat across from him and KAREN VAN HERSCHING at the end of the dining table, expecting this to be another meeting to discuss her “behavior” as of late. They hadn’t yet confronted her about the outburst of last week, so she’s resigned as they tentatively begin the conversation.

Only it takes a turn she is not at all anticipating.

Karen: With all of this in mind, we feel it might be time for you to be relocated.

Isadora, stunned: … what?

Stephen, delicately: Clearly, we’re simply not clicking the way we’re supposed anymore. You must have noticed you’d been in respite care more often than usual these past few months, and we’ve been butting heads more than living harmoniously.

Karen: It’s not a comfortable environment for any party, and your siblings are starting to recognize it too. Perhaps that’s a sign that this just… isn’t a good fit.

Isadora chokes back her emotions, instead arguing as bluntly as she can manage. She points out that this has nothing to do with the foster siblings and everything to do with them -- they’re giving up on her because she’s not “normal” the way they’d like her to be. They’ve never known how to handle her, and now they’re giving up because they’re tired of pretending to put in an effort to understand her.

Stephen: Now I wouldn’t say --

Isadora: Of course you wouldn’t, because that would go against your perfect charitable narrative. Take in kids and give them homes, sure, as long as doing so makes you feel good about yourself and offers no potential challenges that you might have to actually lift a finger to work through.

Karen: See, this is exactly what we’re talking about. If you were intent on making this family dynamic work --

Isadora: If you were intent on making this work, you’d act like actual parents and try to understand the children you host rather than shaping them into your good samaritan trophies. When you’re an actual parent, you don’t just toss your kid out when they don’t suit you anymore!

Karen shuts the discussion down, stating that this is how things are going to be. Isadora reins in her frustration and puts on a stony expression. Karen continues to explain how long she’ll have to pack her things, what they’re doing to start arranging for her relocation, but sound goes fuzzy and sort of peters out.

Song Cue ♫ ♪ “No Roots” as performed by Alice Merton || Performed by Isadora De La Cruz

The bass line starts in as the Van Herschings continue to mutedly talk at Isadora, finally dismissing her. As she marches from the table and starts to move through the home she launches into the opening verse, keeping her emotions tempered for as long as it takes her to escape to the upstairs.

INT. FOSTER HOME - ISADORA’S BEDROOM - NIGHT

The door slams as she gets to the chorus, volume growing in pitch as she starts to meltdown over the ordeal. She’s being dropped again, removed and shoved off to the next person. Nothing ever lasts, no one ever stays. On top of everything else…

Enraged, Isadora rips a poster down off the wall. That destructive action seems to expand into an all-consuming energy, Isadora basically tearing her bedroom to shreds as she progresses through the rest of the number. It’s a dizzying display, leaving her surrounded by debris by the time the rendition comes to an end.

She stands amidst the ruins of what her temporary home used to be, breathing heavy and clearly exhausted. Then she leans back against the door and slides into sitting, tucking her head into her knees.

INT. AAA - ERIC’S OFFICE - DAY

The silence of Eric’s office is a stark contrast to the anger of moments earlier, the only sound being the active tick of the wall clock. Maya is seated in the chair opposite him, Eric patiently attempting to get her to speak about how she’s dealing with this. Anything at all.

She’s not biting. It’s truly jarring to see Maya Hart so quiet, usually so animated and the natural center of attention. She’s just… void, having nothing to say because she has nothing to give.

Eric: I just want you to understand that there’s no wrong way to process this. Whatever you might be feeling -- sadness, guilt, anger -- all of that is valid. You have the right to feel it, whatever it might be. You don’t have to process it alone.

For now, it seems like she’s content to do so. She continues her silence, avoiding his gaze as she stares blankly at the floor. Eric frowns, obviously wishing there was more he could do.

Anne Marie, pre-lap: Please let me know if there’s anything you need.

INT. AAA - JACK’S OFFICE - DAY

ANNE MARIE WINTHROP is visiting Jack, having brought him lunch from one of his favorite spots. She’s clearly there to offer him comfort, well aware of how difficult this week is going to be for him. Whatever she can do to help, she wants to be able to do it.

Jack claims he’ll be fine, right now all he can do is focus on work and try to keep the tides level. She exchanges a brisk kiss with him, heading out just as Lucas appears in the doorway for a meeting.

The two of them nearly bump into one another, looking at one another in confusion. Anne Marie is certainly no administrator Lucas recognizes, and Lucas wanders the main office too casually to be just some random student swinging by for a visit. Yet, they have absolutely no sense of who the other person is.

Jack seems to sense their trepidation, jumping to introduce them. Anne Marie offers a hand to shake as he does so, which Lucas looks at with a mixture of reluctance and amusement. Is she for real?

Jack: Lucas is one of the technicians in the junior class.

Anne Marie: Oh. Sorry if I’m being rude, I just -- Jack’s never mentioned you, is all.

Lucas, flatly: Yeah, well, there’s not much to say about me. [ shaking her hand ] I’m sort of like the gum under his shoe he just can’t scrape off.

Jack: That’s not true.

Lucas: It’s okay though. He’ll get rid of me some day, I’m sure. A little more scraping and scrubbing, and all grime comes off eventually.

Jack cuts him off, stating he’s said quite enough. An interesting first impression, that’s for sure. Anne Marie delicately removes her hand from his, raising her eyebrows at Jack and assuring him she’ll see him after work. Lucas waits until she’s gone to speak, sliding into his usual seat.

Lucas: You never mentioned you had a girlfriend.

Jack: That’s not exactly relevant information for you to know.

Lucas: We talk about everything else. You know everything about me. [ bluntly ] Shitty parents, booth hopping, failed not-relationships…

Jack waves him off, as that’s definitely not what he wanted to discuss. He cuts to the main reason he requested Lucas come by, checking in on how he’s handling the news about Farkle.

In an instant, Lucas clams up. He says he doesn’t see why he’s checking on him when there’s plenty of people way more distraught than he is. He and Farkle weren’t close. They weren’t even acquaintances. The only thing they had in common, in fact, was how hated they were by everyone else.

But that isn’t the point. When things like this happen, Jack states, people cope with it regardless of how immediately attached to the person they were. He wanted to talk with him and make sure he was okay, because he knows for a fact he won’t be going to chat with Eric. His behavior last week was indicative of that much. Lucas sheepishly claims he’s fine, and the only reason he acted that way was because he doesn’t need to have everyone in his business.

But it’s not convincing to Jack, and he continues to push out of concern until Lucas slightly cracks. He lashes out about yeah, he hasn’t been able to stop thinking about it. Not because he gave a shit about Farkle, but sort of because of exactly that reason.

Lucas: So you want to know what I’m feeling? I’m feeling like absolute shit. But not for the reason everyone else is, the reason I should be, because I’m heartbroken or sad or suffered some great personal tragedy. And that’s all part of it -- I feel like shit because I am shit. I’m shit because this horrible thing happened, and all I can focus on is me. Because we were both trash, but if anyone deserved it… [ huffing ] Because for three years, I treated Farkle like shit, and I can’t stop doing it to everyone else, and now he --

Lucas can’t bring himself to finish the sentence. He swallows whatever he was going to say, slouching back in his seat and pressing his knuckles to his chin. Jack attempts to process everything he just said, wondering where to even begin.

Lucas: Is that what you wanted me to say? Is that what you wanted to hear?

He gets up without waiting for a response, making a quick escape. Jack sits there, dumbstruck, not at all sure how to unpack all of that. Wanting to help, but not having any idea how -- not even sure he can. Perhaps he should’ve heeded Eric’s advice about not pushing conversations…

INT. AAA - HALLWAY - DAY

Riley is at Farkle’s locker, having been opened by Harley to be cleaned out and returned. She’s gathering his things in a bag, also getting a feel for what she’s working with in whatever her grand idea is.

She sighs, shifting her focus to the inside door. There are still those lingering photos from last year, striking a nerve in her she wasn’t expecting. She gently touches the Les Mis cast photo, then shifts her gaze to one he has of him and Maya. It was taken on their hooky day, and somehow captures just how greatly Farkle cherished their friendship before he blew it all up.

Riley’s eyes are glossy, but she’s pulled from the moment by the conversation of a couple seniors a few lockers down. They’re discussing how heavy the week has been because of the junior class, neglecting to realize that the locker of who they’re chatting about is only a few feet away.

They both agree they’re eager for the weekend to unwind for a hot minute, highlighting the underground NYU party that they both got the deets for. Yeah, they’re still in high school, but this is one of those ones where they let seniors in for a few bucks so long as they dress the part and don’t go too overboard.

Interesting information to overhear. Riley absorbs the details as she hides behind Farkle’s locker door, stopping herself just in time from subconsciously bending his photo of Maya.

INT. AAA - BLACK BOX THEATER - DAY

The bell rings, pulling the junior class back together for lecture. They all saunter into the black box, the mood somber and all eyes avoiding the empty seats in the room. One less occupied than it should be. A couple of students are visibly shaken, like NICK YOGI who is far from his usual level of energetic, and HALEY FISHER, who is wiping tears on her sleeve a few rows back.

Harper steps up to the board and attempts to proceed on like business as usual, but she keeps losing her train of thought. She gets caught on Haley crying in the back of the room, wanting to say something, but remembering what Jack and Eric said about operating with caution.

Charlie: Miss Burgess? [ after she looks at him ] Are you alright?

No. No, Charlie, she’s not. As if the question is the trigger, Harper starts to cry. She apologizes and tries to pull it together, but then she’s sobbing harder. Totally eclipsed by the reality of what has happened and unable to run away from it any longer.

The A class stares at her, uncertain what to do or how to respond. The room feels frozen in the agony of it, until Shawn steps up and joins Harper at the front of the classroom. He leans in close, muttering to her with a semblance of privacy.

Shawn: Go. I’ve got them, just go.

Harper blinks at him, stunned, but takes his directive. She rushes out of the room, still trying to pull herself together. After a moment of uncomfortable silence, Shawn awkwardly clears his throat and then attempts to take over the lesson to the best of his ability.

INT. AAA - DRESSING ROOM HALL - DAY

Catching up with the junior A class, they’re scattered about the auditorium during breakout sessions. But no one is actually rehearsing anything, mostly just coming together to comfort one another. DARBY WINTERS and SARAH CARLSON are in the dressing room hall, Sarah hugging Darby as she cries.

INT. AAA - AUDITORIUM - DAY

In the wings, Zay, Yindra, and Nigel are seated on some spare acting blocks. Charlie and Clarissa are in the backstage area, comforting a distraught Haley who cannot seem to stop crying. In the back center section of the house, the techies are huddled together. NATE MARTINEZ has his arm around DAVE WILLIAMS, who is flushed and rubbing his eyes. JEFF MONROE is massaging Jade’s shoulders while she continues to costume in spite of how she’s actively crying, preferring to focus on something productive rather than wallow.

Dylan breaks from the techie huddle, gently scratching Asher’s back as he passes him to let him know he’s going. He makes his way back down through the house and up onto the stage, heading to the other side of the wings in pursuit of something or someone specific.

INT. AAA - COSTUME LOFT - DAY

He finds who he’s looking for soon enough. Isadora is no longer so in control of her emotions, aggressively sawing at a piece of wood with safety goggles on. Dylan claims he’s happy he found her, as he wanted to see how she was doing. He knows she’s been kind of dealing with a lot of shit lately, let alone on top of this.

Isadora, unimpressed: Oh, do you now?

Isadora pulls off her goggles and steps away from the wood, avoiding looking at him. He persists in expressing his concern anyway, stating that they’re friends and it’s important for people not to feel alone right now.

Unintentionally, this comment is the straw that breaks the camel’s back. Isadora snaps, saying it’s a shock for him to call them that when they’ve hardly interacted much in the last few months. Where was he when the entire techie crew decided to cold shoulder her? Or after the blow up in class when her mom visited -- he sure didn’t come running after her then. He didn’t try to get Lucas to lighten up on her, none of them thought to invite her to their new techie holiday plans.

Then it just spirals from there, Isadora no longer able to keep the lid on her emotions about anything. What’s going on with the Van Herschings, how her friendship with Lucas has deteriorated, the fact that she can’t seem to get the balance between two worlds right. How she knew something was up with Farkle, and she tried to reach out, but she didn’t do it right because she never does anything right. She could’ve done more, and yet she fucked up that too.

Dylan listens without argument to all of it, an unfair but willing recipient of all her anger. He lets her snarl at him and throw blame around and completely meltdown until she runs out of steam, collapsing down against the chain link that separates the costuming supplies from the set building supplies. She descends into tears, hiding in her arms and at rock bottom.

For a beat, uncertainty. Then, without a word, Dylan walks over and joins her on the floor under the shadow of the costume loft. He doesn’t touch her, or offer an uplifting word. He simply sits with her, being another presence in the room. There with her to sort through all that turmoil.

Tangible proof that she’s not as alone as she feels.

INT. ANGELA’S APARTMENT - NIGHT

ANGELA MOORE returns home, greeting Shawn who is working on the couch. She tiredly explains that she went to pay a visit to the Minkus family.

Shawn: How are they?

Angela: About how you’d expect.

She settles onto the couch with him, allowing him to drape an arm around her shoulders. She cuddles close, shaking her head and claiming that she can’t imagine what they’re going through right now. She only knows what she’s struggling to grapple with, and that’s already difficult enough. Shawn nods along, kissing her temple.

Angela: I just keep thinking… if I hadn’t gone away. If I hadn’t taken the job, you know, and I was still his teacher…

Shawn argues against the train of thought before it even starts. There’s no sense in trying to figure out if one or two tiny decisions were deciding factors in something like this -- and they rarely ever are anyway. She was his favorite teacher, after all, if anything she already did more good for him than anyone else.

Angela sighs, trying to accept that as truth. She asks how everyone else at AAA is doing, and Shawn admits it’s tough. He mentions what happened with Harper, speaking sympathetically about his co-teacher for perhaps the first time. As he’s doing so, the reality of their warped dynamic seems to hit him full force.

Shawn: … fuck. I’ve got to fix this, Ange.

Her expression says it all. Maybe so. He gives her another long kiss on the forehead before climbing to his feet.

INT. FOSTER HOME - LIVING ROOM - NIGHT

Isadora is meeting with her SOCIAL WORKER, the latter explaining what this process will be like as she is relocated. She’s hardly listening though, as this is far from the first time she’s heard the spiel.

When the caretaker explains that she will be squatting at the Van Herschings until she’s assigned a new home, that seems to strike something in Isadora. From the way her eyes are burning, it’s clear that doesn’t resonate with her. No way is she going to just hang around in a place where it’s been made clear she’s no longer welcome.

INT. MATTHEWS APARTMENT - NIGHT

Riley is pacing the living area, on the phone with TOPANGA LAWRENCE. She’s explaining the laborious process of moving upstate, only switching topics to what is going on with Riley far too long into the conversation.

Riley, flatly: Well, I don’t know if you heard, but one of my classmates overdosed. So.

Although her advice is well-meant, Topanga’s immediate response is to start problem-solving, which is not what Riley wants to hear. She can’t even get a word in about her project for Farkle, Topanga dominating the conversation with thoughts on how to cope and questioning the environment of the school that would push a student to that.

Topanga: You know, there really are some excellent schools here upstate. If you’re ever feeling as though things at the art school are just too hectic…

A nice suggestion, but exactly the opposite of what Riley needs right then. She’s sick of jumping from place to place only for it to constantly fall apart -- what she wants is for the home she’s built at AAA to become hospitable again. All in all, the conversation leaves Riley feeling more claustrophobic, directionless, endlessly doing the wrong thing regardless of how much right she’s trying to do.

She hangs up, collapsing into the bay window and looking out towards the twinkling lights of the city. Still bustling with activity in spite of how the world seems to have frozen around them.

She could sure afford to unwind for a hot minute…

INT. MATTHEWS APARTMENT - MASTER BEDROOM - NIGHT

Maya’s phone is ringing, Katy lighting up the screen once again. Maya reaches out and hits ignore, stuffing her phone in her pocket.

Her expression is still hard to read as she gathers her duffle bag onto her shoulder. She’s dressed in dark clothing and obviously on a mission, no longer doing nothing but gearing up to certainly do something.

She crawls out onto the fire escape with her duffle, disappearing into the night.

EXT. LUCAS’S APARTMENT - LUCAS’S FIRE ESCAPE - NIGHT

Lucas is seated out on his fire escape, also looking out into the night. He’s clenching his jaw, picking at the scabs on his hands again, seeming restless and a far cry from coping well over someone he wasn’t all that close to.

Swiftly, he pulls out his phone and dials a number. He waits impatiently until they pick up, eyes shining with mischief.

Lucas: You busy? [ a beat ] I gotta do something.

INT. GARDNER HOME - DINING ROOM - NIGHT

The Gardner family is assembled for dinner, ELEANOR GARDNER leading them in prayer before they settle in for the meal. This evening is a bit out of the ordinary, however, as Eleanor includes a plea of forgiveness for Farkle’s mortal soul and to have mercy on him. Charlie opens his eyes in shock, blinking at his mother as she wraps it up with prayers towards the Minkus family and a curt amen.

Charlie is the only one not to repeat the word. Eleanor glances at him, surprised to see the disturbed expression on his face. She questions what’s going on, and Charlie asks what the heck she meant by including Farkle and asking for his “forgiveness.”

Eleanor treads cautiously, understanding that Charlie is likely overwhelmed by what’s happened and thusly pardons his attitude. She reminds him that suicide is a mortal sin, one of the gravest a human can commit as it goes against God’s power over human life. She’s merely hoping the Lord will take mercy on him when the time comes for his judgment.

Charlie: Well, don’t you think that’s a bit cold?

Eleanor: I think it’s a bit cold to decide that your wants and desires are greater than the will of the Lord.

Charlie: Maybe, but… don’t you think he deserves a little more sympathy? You don’t know what was going on with him, or even who he was. The Bible even says that mental health can absolve responsibility of it as a mortal sin --

Eleanor: Which is up for Him to decide, not me, and certainly not you.

Charlie wants to say more, but he finds he’s out of words. He just feels sick, staring at his mom as if he doesn’t even recognize her. Rosie looks back and forth between them, uncertain. Ambrose starts to say something to assuage the tension, but Charlie beats him to it. He pushes away from the table.

Charlie, disgusted: I need to be excused.

Eleanor: Perhaps that’s a good idea.

He marches out of the room without looking back. Eleanor and Ambrose watch him go, both appearing concerned. Rosie and Daisy keep their heads down, pushing around their food but not eating it.

INT. GARDNER HOME - CHARLIE’S BEDROOM - NIGHT

Charlie escapes into his room, slamming his door behind him. He paces restlessly before flopping down on his bed, grabbing his pillow and screaming into it to muffle the sound.

When he puts it down, he pushes himself back into a sitting position. He runs his hands through his hair, letting out an exhausted exhale. His gaze drifts out his balcony and towards the lights of the city, Charlie getting lost in the view for a moment.

Slowly, his expressions hardens to a glare.

Song Cue ♫ ♪ “A Lot of Livin’ To Do” as performed by Bye Bye Birdie Original Broadway Cast || Performed by AAA Juniors

Charlie kicks off the first verse, on edge and bristling with energy. He pushes himself off his bed and into a pace, then seems to be struck with an idea. He quickly packs a bag and climbs out onto his balcony.

EXT. GARDNER HOME - NIGHT

Charlie lands outside his balcony and looks up at it as he backs onto the sidewalk, finishing off his verse as he sprints towards his car.

INT. MATTHEWS APARTMENT - MASTER BEDROOM - NIGHT

Riley takes up the brunt of the next verse, singing about “men of 19 or 20, who are suave and reckless and true.” She’s dressed up and looking glamorous in bold makeup, a leather jacket she took from Maya’s closet, and semi form-fitting clothes, but she also… doesn’t really look like herself. She looks as though she’s trying to be something she’s not -- which is precisely what she’s doing.

She musters her confidence in the mirror before grabbing her purse and clambering out of the bay window.

INT. FOSTER HOME - NIGHT

Isadora is following the same routine. She has stuffed everything she cares about into a backpack and an overnight bag, clambering down the stairs and marching into the night without anyone noticing. Not intending to ever come back.

INT. AAA - AUDITORIUM - NIGHT

Kicking off a pattern for the episode, the rest of the number is split between events happening in real time, and a fictionalized performance on the AAA stage. In this case, that performance belongs to the A class (sans everyone featured out and about), Nigel taking on the vocal heft of the performance.

The strangest thing about their otherwise enjoyable rendition is how jarring it is to see Asher without Dylan. Asher is amidst his classmates, dancing with Jade and the other techies in the grounded stage performance, but his boyfriend is nowhere to be found.

EXT. NEW YORK STREETS - NIGHT

That’s because Dylan, on the other hand, has met up with Lucas and they’re jogging the back streets of a wealthier district in the city. They’re alight with chaotic energy, as Lucas is kicking up his thievery to even higher levels tonight. Dylan tosses him a tool as they come around one of the fancy, shiny sports cars sitting parked on the street, Lucas starting the process of breaking into the vehicle.

He succeeds, pulling open the door and disabling the security mechanism swifter than it can react. He and Dylan exchange grins, Lucas climbing behind the wheel.

EXT. NEW YORK STREETS - NIGHT

Maya has taken up residency in an alleyway, a busy street just overhead. She’s hard at work, opening her duffle to reveal an assortment of spray paint. Her expression is removed and determined, setting to work as she starts graffiting right over the camera.

EXT. BABINEAUX HOME - NIGHT

Zay’s car is the only one in the driveway as Charlie pulls up on the curb, abruptly killing the engine. He jogs up to the door, knocking urgently. He’s practically bouncing on the balls of his feet, unable to stay still.

INT. BABINEAUX HOME - ENTRYWAY - NIGHT

Zay descends from upstairs and pulls open the door in confusion, finding Charlie on the doorstep. Not even a second passes before Charlie steps inside and pulls Zay into a kiss, showing zero hesitation in initiating.

Something about this kiss is different, too. Insistent. Impatient. Zay is startled for a moment until he catches up and kisses him back, shutting the front door.

INT/EXT. NEW YORK STREETS / STOLEN CAR - NIGHT

Lucas and Dylan seem to be having the time of their lives, speeding down the night streets in their joy ride vehicle. Dylan shouts into the night and nudges Lucas on the arm, the latter grinning and picking up speed.

EXT. NEW YORK STREETS - NIGHT

Isadora is wandering the streets, obviously not sure where the hell she’s going to go. She’s so distracted she almost walks right into the streets, only getting startled out of it when a police siren snaps her out of it.

She hops back onto the sidewalk as the cruiser breezes past, lights blinking and sirens blaring.

INT. BABINEAUX HOME - ZAY’S BEDROOM - NIGHT

Things have grown serious for Zay and Charlie as well. They’re deep into kissing, but Charlie still seems to be operating with a more frantic tenor than normal. There’s a moment where Zay pulls back and starts to question if this is okay but Charlie steers right past it, pulling him back into it.

Kisses deepen… shirts come off… Zay fumbles back onto the mattress and Charlie follows...

EXT. NEW YORK STREETS - NIGHT

Maya is finishing up her project, startled out of her focus by the distant sound of sirens. She scrambles to gather her things and takes off into the darkness.

EXT. COLLEGE PARTY - NIGHT

Riley approaches the entrance to the underground college party, being held at what seems like an old warehouse of some kind. She makes tentative eye contact with the older guy monitoring the doors, but he doesn’t pay her any more attention than the other college girls slipping inside.

She smiles to herself, descending down the steps and into the party scene.

INT/EXT. NEW YORK STREETS / STOLEN CAR - NIGHT

The fun comes to an end about the same time as the song, the A class underscoring the blare of sirens as they catch up to Lucas and Dylan. The world around them reflects blue and red as Lucas stares at the rear view mirror, expression shifting from thrilled to alarmed.

Lucas, fiercely: Shit.

They pull over. Dylan glances over his shoulder at the lights and then back to Lucas, panicked.

INT. AAA - ERIC’S OFFICE - NIGHT

Eric is still at school, working overtime and cleaning up his office as an excuse to avoid everything else. His fragile bubble pops though as he finishes clearing his desk, stumbling upon some old notes he made to himself about Farkle and his behavior.

He stares at it, hands shaking. His expression twitches, betraying his strong facade.

INT. HARPER’S APARTMENT - NIGHT

Harper is pacing her apartment, on the phone with STELLA CASTILLO. She assures her that she doesn’t need to come home from her touring gig early, the situation is tough but she will handle it just fine. She misses her though, and can’t wait to see her again.

There’s a knock at the door, a surprise to Harper. She lets Stella know she has to go, hanging up and going to answer the door.

Shawn is on the other side, obviously a shock to her. He acts nonchalant as he greets her with an eyebrow raise, awkward but just charming enough that he can pull it off.

Shawn: Wanna grab a drink?

Off Harper’s uncertain expression, as “Die Young” floats in --

INT. COLLEGE PARTY - NIGHT

Song Cue ♫ ♪ “Die Young” as performed by Kesha || Performed by Riley Matthews

Speaking of drinking, the college party is in full swing! Riley is right in the center of it all, leading a spunky and high energy rendition of this pop classic. She’s parading around with red solo cup in hand, dancing with friendly college girls, having a rocking good time. She also catches the eye of a handful of boys, being a bit flirtatious in her devil-may-care state. There are older men of 19 or 20…

It’s the most wild she’s ever been, and it’s obvious she’s reveling in it. Accommodating and unassuming Riley Matthews, finally doing something because she damn well feels like it.

INT. JACK’S APARTMENT - NIGHT

Jack and Anne Marie are having a quiet conversation, interrupted by a knock at the door. Jack goes to answer it, unexpectedly finding a winded and very flushed Eric standing outside.

Eric, broken: It’s my fault. It was my fault.

Jack allows him inside the apartment, guiding him in and immediately trying to get him to calm down. But Eric is in emotional hysterics, doing everything aside from actually crying. He can hardly breathe, he’s tripping over his own words, the works. Jack exchanges a look with Anne Marie, not sure what to say.

She gets the message, grabbing her coat and purse and stating that she’ll give them some space. As she goes, she gently touches Eric’s shoulder and expresses her sincere condolences for everything that has happened. Then she exchanges a cheek kiss with Jack, stepping out and leaving them alone.

Eric grows more frantic, totally incomprehensible. Jack guides him towards the couch and gets him to settle, trying to get him to listen instead of spiraling out of control.

Jack: Eric.

Eric: How many times did we say we needed to bring him in to chat? How many times did I remind myself that I needed to see him but let it get brushed aside by something else? How many times did I meet with him, only to let him go without making any progress?

Jack: Eric --

Eric: We knew, Jack! I knew that something was wrong, I saw the signs, and I didn’t act quick enough! I failed him! It’s my fault, it’s my fault he --

Jack: Eric!

Jack grabs his shoulders, jostling him lightly to get him to pause. He does, allowing Jack the chance to retort. He shifts one his hands to grip the side of his neck, locking eyes with him.

Jack: This is not your fault.

Eric looks like he wants to argue, but he’s out of words. He stares at Jack, eyes glassy and still trembling. Jack holds his gaze… and then pats his shoulder gently.

Jack: Let me make some coffee.

INT. NYPD PRECINCT - HOLDING CELL - NIGHT

Dylan and Lucas are seated on the bench, the former looking nervous while the latter is slouched back against the concrete wall, resigned. Dylan is fidgety, twisting the bracelets on his wrist and tapping his feet and bouncing his leg.

Dylan: This is bad. This is so bad.

Lucas, sharply: Would you calm down? We’re white, we’ll be fine.

The door opens, an OFFICER entering and unlocking the cell. She informs them that someone paid their bail, but they have paperwork to process so they absolutely should not leave the precinct. However, they can retrieve their things and meet with their bail out. Lucas and Dylan exchange a look, following the officer out of the cell.

INT. COLLEGE PARTY - NIGHT

Riley is just finishing pouring herself another drink when THOR (20) sidles up to join her. He’s attractive, sandy-haired, just the right amount of charming. He engages Riley in conversation, asking her a little more about who she is and commenting that he hasn’t seen her around before.

The conversation seems fun for her. She enjoys playing mysterious, leaving him with little answers but accepting his invitation to go dance.

INT. JACK’S APARTMENT - NIGHT

Eric has had the chance to settle, no longer frantic but instead having transitioned into a numb sort of state. Jack returns with steaming mugs, handing one to Eric who takes it robotically. Jack sits down next to him, placing the coffee on the table.

Jack: Do you have any idea how much I respect you? Especially now.

Jack points out how hard the last week was on all of them, but especially Eric. And now he has to carry his feelings about it all on top of the collective school emotions, hardly getting any time to process it for himself. So it’s no wonder that he’s feeling overwhelmed --

Eric: I could’ve done something. I could’ve stopped it.

Jack: You know that’s not true. You know that’s not how these things work.

Eric: It was my job. It’s my job to protect them, and I failed.

Jack: Eric, listen to me. [ leaning forward ] This is not your fault. You did not fail. And if you did, then it’s on both of us. It’s both of our jobs to take care of those students. So if it’s on you, then it’s on me too.

He reaches forward and pats Eric’s knee, getting his attention. Eric stares at his hand, then slowly lifts his gaze to meet his eyes.

Jack: You know we work together. We should’ve tackled this together, and we’re going to handle it together. [ softly ] You are not going to face this alone.

Eric hangs on his every word. There’s something about the moment that’s deeper than just a moment of camaraderie, one that neither of them can place but that certainly exists between them… when Jack’s cell phone rings, making both of them jump. He digs for it in his pocket.

Jack, apologetically: Could be the Minkus --

Eric nods, understanding. Jack jumps to his feet, frowning at the number on his caller ID as he steps away to answer it. Eric takes the moment to collect himself, letting out a sigh and hiding his head in his hands.

He straightens up when Jack shouts from the kitchen, startling him.

Jack: He what?

Jack flurries back into the room a second later, scrambling to find his coat. Eric asks what the hell is going on, but in his frenzy Jack isn’t very helpful.

Jack: I have to -- Lucas. He -- I need to go to the station --

Eric: The station? What --

Jack: Please, feel free to stay as long as you need. I’ll be back soon. [ a beat ] Hopefully. Shit. Jesus --

Jack exits in a huff, leaving Eric alone in his apartment.

INT. COLLEGE PARTY - NIGHT

Dancing with a cute stranger at a hazy college party is all fun and games… until it isn’t. Although it doesn’t seem all that out of place considering how other duos around them are acting, when Thor makes an unexpected move and kisses Riley’s neck she clearly isn’t on the same page. She might be tipsy, but she’s cognizant enough to know that’s not the direction she wants to go in.

She jerks away on instinct, Thor still keeping a hand on her arm. He asks her if everything is okay, seemingly innocent. She clears her throat and searches for an excuse, laughing nervously and stating that she doesn’t feel much like dancing anymore.

In the midst of backing away, somehow Thor manages to back her into a dead end against a wall. He suggests that they can go somewhere else if she wants, not reading into her discomfort despite how obvious it feels. Hands shaking and feeling distinctly cornered, Riley grasps for any excuse she can think of.

Riley: I, um… I have to use the restroom.

INT. COLLEGE PARTY - BATHROOM - NIGHT

Riley skirts past a couple of drunk college girls, ducking into a stall and trying to catch her breath. She starts to tear up but talks herself down, knowing she needs to keep her cool. She needs to stay calm, and then she needs to figure out an escape plan.

After a moment, she pulls out her phone. She fumbles to open it, going to her messages and scrolling back to find the right contact.

INT. NYPD PRECINCT - LOBBY - NIGHT

Dylan and Lucas emerge from the hall with the officer, retrieving their items from a plastic bag from when they were arrested. As they direct their attention to the main waiting area, the identity of who bailed them out quickly becomes clear.

Asher marches away from the counter, eyes wide and voice frayed.

Asher: WHAT THE HELL HAPPENED?

He’s interrupted before he can even finish the question, Dylan barreling him with a bone-crushing hug. He embraces him with everything in him, obviously so relieved he’s there.

Lucas looks a little less thrilled. He stares at them, confusion shifting to defensive disdain.

Lucas: You called Asher?

Asher pulls back from the hug first, glancing between them. Dylan speaks before he can address Lucas, asking how the hell he paid to bail them out.

Asher, reluctantly: … the fund.

Dylan’s face drops, mortified. The last thing Asher should be doing is dipping into his college fund to get them out of trouble -- especially after expressly stating he needed space.

Dylan: I’m so sorry. I’m sorry, I didn’t know who else to call. They said call someone, and my first thought was --

Asher: It’s fine. But I’ll ask again. [ looking right at Lucas ] What the hell happened?

Lucas holds his glare, not knowing what to say. He’s saved by the bell, or in this case, his phone ringing. He steps away to answer, turning away from Dylan and Asher. As he frowns at the caller ID and answers the call, in the background Asher takes Dylan’s face and questions whether or not he’s okay.

Lucas: Hello? Riley? [ a beat ] Wait, what? [ a beat ] What?

Dylan and Asher shift their attention to Lucas, watching him warily as he starts to pace. Whatever he’s hearing on the other end, it can’t be good news.

Lucas: Stay where you are. Don’t talk to them. Where are you? [ a beat ] Okay, stay put. It’s going to be okay. I’m coming. It’s going to be fine.

Lucas hangs up, alight with restless energy again. He marches back over to the other two, exhaling shortly before locking eyes with Asher.

Lucas: I need your car.

Asher: I’m -- what? No.

Lucas: I need to go. Riley is -- I have to go now.

Dylan: What’s wrong with Riley?

Lucas: I have to go. Give me your keys.

Asher, stunned: You’re seriously telling me --

Dylan: They said we couldn’t leave --

Lucas: GIVE ME YOUR KEYS!

Asher flinches, reflexively tossing them in his direction. Lucas catches them, not even saying thanks as he sprints out the doors. Dylan and Asher whip around to watch him go, wearing matching shocked expressions.

Dylan, with dread: We’re so fucked.

Asher glances at him then back to where Lucas left, slowly shifting from shocked to pissed.

INT. JACK’S APARTMENT - NIGHT

Eric has returned from the kitchen with another cup of coffee, familiar enough with Jack’s apartment from all the hours they’ve spent working together. He settles back onto the couch, breathing deeply and trying to get himself to relax.

He shifts his focus to the paperwork Jack has on the table -- the student files of the junior class. Likely in preparation for their senior summary reports. He flips through them idly, smiling lightly at the grinning portraits of the junior class and their photos from the last three years.

Eric stops cold when he gets to Farkle, smiling smugly back at him from his sophomore student portrait. There’s a subtle shift, just barely perceptible, between that image and the one from junior year. Eric swallows, gently putting down the report back onto the table. He puts it right next to Isadora, and Charlie on the other side.

All of them, right there in front of him. All having no idea how much they mean to him, how desperately he wants to protect all of them like his own family.

Song Cue ♫ ♪ “These Are My Children” as performed by FAME Original Broadway Cast || Performed by Eric Matthews

Eric kicks off this impressive vocal performance, sorting through the student files as he articulates how important this role and his influence on the children means to him. He uses the full expanse of Jack’s living room to work through his emotion, delivering a powerful rendition.

INT. AAA - AUDITORIUM - NIGHT

In keeping with the other performances of the evening, the number is split half between his location and half on the AAA stage, railing into the performance with everything he’s got. It’s cathartic, at the very least, and it certainly makes the point crystal clear.

The students at Adams are his children. And he never wants to let another one slip through the cracks ever again.

Song Cue ♫ ♪ “HUMBLE.” as performed by Kendrick Lamar || Instrumental

INT. ASHER’S CAR - NIGHT

Lucas is parked outside the college party, staring at the building with obvious reluctance and disdain. He can hear the bass thumping from outside, and a crowded, loud, rowdy hole in the wall is the last place he should be when he’s already on the block for the joy ride.

But he goes anyway. Lucas scowls and climbs out of the car, slamming the door.

INT. COLLEGE PARTY - NIGHT

From the moment he enters the space, it’s overwhelming. Lucas frowns at the haze of smoke and odor of alcohol and weed, weaving his way through the crowd and scanning for Riley. College girls spot him and share interested looks and giggles, but he doesn’t pay any attention.

Finally, he finds her.

Lucas: Riley -- Riley!

He pushes through the crowd to get to her, Riley whipping around when she hears his voice. Her eyes are wide and uncertain.

Riley: Lucas?

He finally makes it to her side, taking her arm and pulling her from the fray. He double takes when he actually gets a good look at her, taking in her… new style. He seems a bit torn on whether or not he should consider it attractive or not, and well aware that this isn’t the time to be thinking about that anyway, but Thor addressing them grabs his attention before he can make a decision either way.

It’s not just Thor, but Thor with friends. There’s about three of them now, and Thor questions where Riley is going so soon. Lucas can tell from her body language and the way she kinda ducks behind him that they’re what caused her to call him in the first place. He does his best to keep things from escalating, calmly explaining that they’re just going to head out.

Thor: Oh, well, you don’t have to rush out. I thought we were having a good time. Weren’t we? [ off Riley’s hesitant expression ] Of course she’s shy now. It’s okay, you don’t have to get bashful around your boyfriend.

Friend, slurring: Didn’t have those problems earlier.

Friend 2: Thor was just telling us how friendly you are. Thought we’d come get to know you ourselves.

Riley looks like she’s going to be sick. Lucas narrows his eyes, fighting a losing battle in keeping control of his anger.

Thor: It’s not like it’s a problem, you’re welcome to join us. [ loftily ] Thought we might have more fun as a group, actually.

Lucas, sharply: Yeah? You think it’s fun to hit on a minor?

That comment seems to hit something in Thor’s drunk friends, but they’re not sober enough to remember why that should be problematic. There’s a little more of a tense back and forth until Riley tries to end it, taking Lucas’s arm and starting to pull him away.

Riley: Lucas, let’s just go. Come on.

Friend: Yeah, go on then, bulldog. Woof!

Lucas is scowling, but he follows Riley’s directive. It’s only after they’ve turned away that Thor makes a crucial mistake.

Thor: Her loss. Fine, then. Go be a nobody somewhere else, slut!

Everything happens so fast. In a second, Lucas has spun back around and thrown a punch, hitting Thor so hard and quick that he falls backwards into his friends. As they’re reacting and regaining their bearings, Lucas doubles back to Riley and starts to drag her out of there.

Lucas: Come on. Come on!

Riley tears her gaze away from the carnage, taking his hands and holding on for dear life as he shoves his way through the crowd.

INT. BABINEAUX HOME - ZAY’S BEDROOM - NIGHT

Zay and Charlie have evidently been making bold moves of their own. The untidy quality of the bed sheets is enough of an indication, although Charlie is in the process of fixing them for the sake of fixing something. He might want to start with his hair, which is equally messy, but that seems to be far from his mind. He’s fidgety, looking caught between guilt and discomfort as he restlessly makes the bed.

Zay returns from the hall, having just done some tidying up himself and pulling on a sweatshirt. He tells Charlie not to worry about it, in much lighter spirits than his boyfriend. Charlie can hardly look at him, swiveling away once his distraction of nitpicking has been taken away.

Sensing that something might be up but not wanting to jinx things, Zay searches for upbeat ways to break the silence. He’s rambling, almost, scrambling for anything to say that will make the oddly serious air between them disappear.

Charlie, suddenly: This wasn’t good.

Zay: … well, I don’t know if I would say that. Sure wasn’t perfect, but uh, you know, I don’t think it’s necessarily supposed to be. First time. [ a beat ] Like a lot of things, I think it just takes practice --

Charlie: No, no, not that. It was… fine. I mean, it was okay. I don’t -- it wasn’t good that we did this. That I did this.

It grows quiet. Zay chews the inside of his cheek, obviously trying to grapple with the unpleasant turn this is taking. He isn’t sure what to say.

Zay: If you mean… if this is about the “Heavenly Father,” or whatever --

Charlie: No, it’s not that either. It’s just… I just think that… [ exhaling ] I don’t think I did this for the right reasons.

Zay frowns. Doing what they decided to do tonight is already an overly emotional endeavor, and that’s heightening the way they’re reacting to one another. But he knows he doesn’t want the conversation to go where it’s going.

Zay, quietly: … you said it was okay. I asked you like, a thousand times, because I wanted it to be okay --

Charlie: I know. And when I said it --

Zay: I didn’t even know if -- I wasn’t sure either, you know? [ quicker ] I didn’t know if I was ready either but I figured if you were, if you seemed so sure, then --

Charlie: It’s not that I… it didn’t have anything to do with you.

Zay: Then why? Why would you do it if it wasn’t about you and me?

Charlie grimaces, running his hands through his hair. He snaps out a response, explaining what his mom said at the dinner table about sin and this backwards way of thinking about Farkle, and he can’t stop thinking about Farkle in general, and how life is so fucking short and abrupt and holds all these choices that he has no control over. So he just… he just wanted to do something. He wanted to choose to do something and have control over it and feel like it was okay.

Zay, stammering: And you didn’t think -- you didn’t think to tell me about that?

Charlie: I don’t know! [ voice cracking ] I just knew that I wanted to be with you, and I wanted to feel something, and have control over something, and not have my mom’s voice in my head confirming that empathy means nothing if the Lord doesn’t agree and how I can never fucking tell her about this --

Zay, exasperated: Are you ever going to tell anybody?

That’s enough to stop Charlie dead in his tracks. Zay is looking at him, vulnerable and worked up, and Charlie wants to be able to tell him what he wants to hear. Even in the midst of how confusing and overwhelming it all is, he wants to be able to give him that reassurance.

Instead, he hesitates. He hesitates just a second too long.

Zay’s lip trembles, expression shifting as he attempts to keep it together. He shakes his head, turning away from him and letting out a shaky breath.

Charlie: Zay, I’m not saying that… like I said, this doesn’t have anything to do with you.

Zay: It should. This is one of the things that should.

Charlie: I didn’t mean to --

Zay: You know that I don’t… I would never expect you to… but we’re supposed to be doing this as a team. We’re supposed to be together on this.

Charlie, tearing up: We are --

Zay: And it’s supposed to be leading towards something! If we care about each other and this means something it’s supposed to be moving towards a future -- you even said just last week that…

He can’t get his thoughts together. He can’t wrap his head around how spectacularly this has spun out, how he feels closer to him than ever but also betrayed and confused and a cocktail of every other emotion they’ve made each other feel in the last eight months.

Zay: What are we even doing?

Charlie shakes his head, stepping forward and taking Zay’s arm.

Charlie: We are -- Zay, listen to me. Listen. [ choked up ] Zay, I --

Zay: What?

Zay whips around to face him, meeting his gaze. Not letting him hide, waiting for him to say what he hasn’t been able to say.

Zay, softer: … what do you want to say to me, Charlie?

Charlie stares at him, glossy-eyed. Mouth parted open, the words on the tip of his tongue -- what he feels so strongly it’s consumed him inside and out.

But he can’t say it. He can’t put it into words the way Zay needs to hear.

Zay nods, not surprised. He gently pulls his arm from his grasp, turning away from him and wiping at his eyes. Charlie stands frozen, unable to move.

Zay: [ almost inaudible ] I think you should go.

Charlie, tearfully: Zay --

Zay: Please. [ a beat ] Just go.

Charlie waits a moment longer, hoping things will go back to before. Hoping somehow everything will go right side up again, that they’ll be the same… but it doesn’t. It won’t. He swallows back his tears and robotically gathers his things, glancing over his shoulder at Zay one more time before he disappears from the room.

Zay grits his teeth until he hears the front door close. Then he lets out a broken exhale, collapsing onto the bed and hiding his head in his hands.

Song Cue ♫ ♪ “Secret Love Song, Pt. II” as performed by Little Mix || Performed by Zay Babineaux

Delicately singing the opening notes of this coveted Little Mix ballad, Zay works his way into what is his most heart-wrenching and emotional performance to date. There’s no choreography or extravagance to distract from the killer vocals, just raw emotion and impressive pipes.

INT. AAA - AUDITORIUM - NIGHT

His performance follows the same pattern as the others, splitting its time between his grounded location and the imaginary AAA stage.

INT. BABINEAUX HOME - ZAY’S BEDROOM - NIGHT

Zay rounds out the piece by approaching his window, looking out and seeing Charlie in his car. He’s clearly crying, mirroring Zay’s own tears, but right now there’s too much distance between them. Too much weight from hasty decisions that they can’t take back or redo.

He pulls it together and drives away, Zay watching him go. Then he slides back down against the wall, leaning his head against the window sill.

INT. BLUE’S APARTMENT - NIGHT

There’s a knock at the door, BLUE NGUYEN jogging in from the bedroom to answer. He looks through the peephole and then pulls open the door, a windswept and tired Isadora standing there with her bags on the doorstep.

Neither of them say anything. Blue steps back and lets her into the apartment without hesitation, gently shutting the door behind them.

INT. ASHER’S CAR - NIGHT

Song Cue ♫ ♪ “Love Like This (Acoustic)” as performed by Kodaline || Instrumental

Lucas has parked a ways away from the party in a mostly empty parking lot. The music plays softly over the radio, set to one of Asher’s usual stations, but otherwise it’s quiet.

They aren’t looking at one another. Lucas is chewing on his thumbnail, keeping his gaze trained out the window. Riley is making herself as small as possible after the evening she’s had, hugging herself and slouched low in the passenger seat.

After a long moment, Lucas lets out a sigh.

Lucas: What the hell were you thinking?

Oop. Wrong thing to say. Riley looks at him, staring in disbelief.

Riley: What was I thinking? [ a beat, louder ] What was I thinking? You’ve got to be kidding me!

Valid reaction. Lucas cringes as Riley lays into him, straightening up and reminding him of all the stupid choices he’s been making in the last few months. The terrible attitude. The stealing. The shutting down and shutting out of people who actually care about him, who have done nothing but try and help him and he’s given back bullshit.

Riley: So you have the nerve to ask me what I was thinking? No. Sorry. I know this was dumb, and I know I shouldn’t have done it, and I had to pay for it. But I am not going to take a lecture from you!

[ There’s a long silence. Riley huffs, slouching back against the seat and crossing her arms tighter across her chest. ]

Lucas: … you’re right.

Riley: And I think -- [ realizing what he said ] What?

Lucas, defeated: You’re right. I’m stupid. I’ve been… I’ve been fucking up non-stop basically since summer. [ a beat ] Most of my life, if we’re being honest, but… whatever. That’s not the point.

Lucas goes on to repeat that she’s right, and he knows he’s fucked everything up. Now all there’s left to do is deal with it, regardless of how much he wishes he could keep running from it. Riley examines him for a long moment.

Riley: Well, if tonight demonstrated anything, I think it’s safe to say that running sort of creates more problems than it fixes.

Hard lesson to learn, but it seems they’ve both made it there eventually. They absorb the sentiment for a moment before Lucas speaks again, asking what he actually cares about. He looks at her, speaking more gently.

Lucas: Are you okay?

Riley, exhaling: [ after a long silence ] No. I’m not.

[ Lucas frowns. It looks like he wants to do something, but clearly has no idea what or how anything he might say or do could be remotely helpful. ]

Riley: But I will be. [ with a scoff ] Someone has to be.

Sad, but true. And it’s the mentality she will survive by, so she’s not letting it go quite yet. Lucas nods, shifting his gaze back out the dashboard window.

This gives her the chance to look at him again. She takes him in, finding the words she wants to say.

Riley: Thank you for coming. When I called. You didn’t have to --

Lucas, without hesitation: Of course I did.

He shifts his intense expression back to her, immediately softening when they lock eyes. It’s the first time they’ve really looked at one another all night -- it’s the first time they’ve really looked at one another in what feels like too long --and as soon as they do it’s difficult to look away. A million and one feelings floating between them, left unspoken.

Lucas manages to look away. He focuses on the car, remembering everything waiting for him back at the precinct. He murmurs about getting Riley home and turns on the engine, reaching for the gear shift.

Riley meets him there, touching his hand and keeping him from putting the car in drive. Lucas freezes and glances down at their hands, then at her, uncertain.

She doesn’t say anything. She doesn’t even look at him, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath. Keeping her hand on top of his, finding warmth and comfort in it even in the midst of so much chaos and darkness.

Lucas lets his gaze drift back to their hands. He hesitates… then flips his hand over and links their fingers together. Holding her securely, confirming the notion that she’s not alone.

The two of them sit there in silence a while longer, fingers intertwined and thoughts left unsaid.

INT. BAR - NIGHT

A refreshing change of pace, the rustic-style bar is bustling and lively with adults enjoying their Friday evening. Harper and Shawn are two of those responsible adults, clinking their shot glasses together before downing another at their high table. Shawn nearly chokes on his and Harper cracks up, signaling that both of them might already be a bit tipsy.

Shawn: You can hold your liquor, Burgess. [ coughing ] I’ll give ya that.

Harper: [ with a shrug ] I went to Triple A.

Shawn: Touche.

Harper smirks, picking at their shared nacho platter. There’s a beat of silence between them, then Shawn opts to speak.

Shawn: You’re right about a lot of things, I’ll give you that too. Mostly about me.

Harper, cringing: Well, I don’t know if --

Shawn: No, no, don’t diminish yourself on my account. Stuff you said to me… [ taking a sip of his beer ] Spot on, basically. Except the neckbeard comment. I will argue that.

Harper lets out a laugh, somewhere between amused and nervous. Shawn grows more serious, waiting for her to make eye contact with him.

Shawn: Truth is, I don’t know what the hell I’m doing. Never have. I got this job because my brother did me a favor, chance to get my life back on track, and I figured okay, sweet. I’ll get upright, find a better alternative, and blow this joint.

Harper: But…

Shawn: But those kids, man. They’re devious. They get in your head, and it’s like, suddenly you care about them. Suddenly you care more about their well-being than your own, and you can’t just walk away from that. [ a beat ] So I’m still here, but that doesn’t mean I know jackshit. Certainly not anymore than you do, even though I sure felt the need to make it seem like I did. [ a beat, sincerely ] And I’m sorry about that. You got thrown in the deep end, and I didn’t throw you a life preserver. That’s on me. And I’m even more sorry it took something like… all this to snap me out of it.

Harper absorbs this, trying to determine whether or not it’s genuine. Then she nods, taking a sip of her own drink.

Shawn: But I’ll tell you this, something else you should know about me. When I turn over a leaf, I turn it over. I’m telling you I’m on your side now, and you better believe it. [ raising his bottle in cheers ] We’re in the underworld, Burgess, but we’ll navigate together. Sound cool?

There’s a moment of contemplation. Then Harper manages a smile, clinking her glass against his. As their drinks meet --

EXT. NYPD PRECINCT - NIGHT

Asher’s car door slams, Lucas walking sheepishly from the parking lot to where Asher is waiting for him on the curb. He’s got his hands stuffed in his pockets, glaring at Lucas and shuffling restlessly from foot to foot. There are clearly things both of them want to say, but it’s gotten harder to speak now that they’re in front of one another again.

Lucas: Where’s Dylan?

Asher, shortly: His dad came to pick him up.

Brisk conversation. Lucas has made it to join him on the curb. He tentatively holds out his keys -- Asher snatches them from him, stepping off the curb without comment. Then he thinks better of it, whipping back around and approaching Lucas again. When he speaks, his voice is strained with anger, but also trembling.

Asher, fiercely: The next time you want to ruin your life, you can leave Dylan out of it!

Lucas attempts to cover for himself, to offer some sort of explanation that makes all of this better, but he can’t. There’s nothing he can say, and there’s no way to make this better. Asher clenches his teeth, eyes glossing over as he shakes his head at everything Lucas starts to say.

Asher: Look, you can do whatever you want, Lucas. You were right the whole time -- it doesn’t matter. Not to you.

Lucas: That’s not true.

Asher: You can do what you want, but I can’t do it anymore. I can’t. I’m done.

Asher turns to go, starting to head into the parking lot. Lucas steps down off the curb after him.

Lucas, panicked: Asher --

Asher: Don’t!

Both of them freeze. Lucas pauses and then steps back, respecting his wishes. Asher hesitates for one last second, almost turning around… and then he marches towards his car.

Lucas watches him go, looking more regretful than we’ve ever seen him. That is, until he turns back towards the precinct and sees Jack impatiently waiting for him by the front counter, looking absolutely livid.

INT. ASHER’S CAR - NIGHT

Song Cue ♫ ♪ “Younger” as performed by Ruel || Performed by Asher Garcia

The instrumental starts just as Asher shuts the car door, taking a moment to absorb what the hell just happened. He lets out a sigh and falls back against the driver’s seat, pressing his palms to his eyes and trying to keep from crying.

EXT. NEW YORK STREETS - FLASHBACK - NIGHT

Asher’s performance takes on a slightly different structure than the rest, still split between the real world as he drives home and the AAA stage, but also this blast from the past. It’s essentially a fabrication of the origins of Lucas and Asher’s friendship, the two of them sneaking out late at night in freshman year to go wander around and talk. From the way they both grin and crack up as they go, despite being cast in shadow, it’s a stronger advocate for their relationship than anything we’ve seen as of late.

The things that Asher is so deeply holding onto, wishing things were that simple again.

INT. AAA - AUDITORIUM - NIGHT

But as mentioned, he takes the stage too, and the emotion of the rendition makes it near masterful. The performers in the A class might be chilled to know there’s some serious talent hidden in the depths of the techie crew, and Asher is perhaps the most prominent example.

INT. GARCIA HOME - ASHER’S BEDROOM - NIGHT

Asher makes it back to his bedroom as the song hits the bridge, clearly exhausted. He slips off his shoes and shrugs off his jacket, going to organize his things off his desk but getting caught on looking at his bulletin board again.

Carefully, he pulls another photo from the second layer of pinned items -- a picture of him and Lucas from freshman year. It’s difficult to look at, painful to acknowledge how much he feels like has changed. As he sings the lyrics “but we’re out of time,” he folds the picture in his fingers, like he’s crumpling it for good.

EXT. NEW YORK STREETS - FLASHBACK - NIGHT

The memory of Lucas and Asher have made it to Central Park, on the Gapstow bridge. Both of them are looking out over the edge, Lucas no longer looking at Asher.

Asher takes a moment to look at him -- really examine him, trying to figure him out. Wondering if the time they’re spending together is worth it, or if he’s wasting his energy on someone who will never return the favor.

Only this time, he doesn’t just stand there until Lucas is ready to move. As the song builds to the final chorus, memory Asher turns and hesitates one last moment… before walking away. Heading in the opposite direction, leaving Lucas behind him.

INT. AAA - AUDITORIUM - NIGHT

Which launches him right into the last chorus, delivering the powerful vocals with resounding emotional force. It’s obvious how difficult this is, how much it hurts, how badly he wishes this wasn’t how things were.

So I can't call you my brother, the way that we used to When we were younger, younger...

Asher finishes out the performance with a flourish, nearly stumbling as he backs out of the spotlight. He’s tear-stained, flushed, running a hand through his hair and honestly disoriented as he tries to figure out what he’s supposed to do next.

Then he exits the stage, leaving it empty and cold.

INT. BLUE’S APARTMENT - NIGHT

Isadora is in the living room, set up on the couch to crash for a few days. Blue comes in ready for bed, asking if there’s anything else he can get for her before he calls it a night. She assures him that it’s all good, and makes a point of thanking him for letting her stay. He tells her any time.

But it’s clear Isadora will not be finding rest any time soon. She scrolls through her phone, hesitating on the brink of a decision. Then she sits up, hitting call on her phone.

After a moment, VALERIE DE LA CRUZ picks up on the other end. She asks what’s up, and there’s a second where Isadora pauses. Then she starts to tell her everything, starting with Farkle and spiraling down into everything that’s happened since.

Actually opting to let her mother in, in spite of how unfamiliar the practice feels.

EXT. NYPD PRECINCT - NIGHT

Jack and Lucas exit the precinct, the former leading the charge and digging his keys from his pocket. Lucas lags behind, not wanting to have to go home but also not sure he wants to face Jack’s disappointment. It’s harsher than usual because it’s quiet. He’s not reprimanding him, he’s not yelling. It’s just… nothing.

Lucas: Aren’t you going to say anything?

Jack: I don’t think you want to hear what I want to say to you right now.

Lucas stops in the middle of the parking lot, not following him anymore. Jack realizes he’s no longer behind him, spinning and finding him waiting. Looking at him, expression blank, not defensive or waspish or bitter. Just waiting.

Jack sighs, holding his arms out.

Jack: Okay, you want to hear it? I don’t want to say anything because I don’t think it’s worth the effort.

Lucas, quietly: … not worth the effort.

Jack: Yes. Because there’s nothing I could say that I haven’t already said to you before. Don’t do this, don’t do that, think. Think. Think! But you never do. You never listen, and we always end up back in this spot, starting over again.

Lucas: … I didn’t mean for...

Jack: [ growing frustrated ] I can’t keep doing it, Lucas! I can’t keep sticking my neck out for you and trying to help only for you to take advantage of it at every turn. You can’t help somebody who doesn’t want to be helped. So I’m not wasting my breath anymore. [ a beat ] Now get in the car so I can take you home.

Jack doesn’t wait for him to respond. He walks over to his car and unlocks it, keeping true to his word and not wasting anymore energy than necessary.

Lucas stands there for a moment, absorbing the full consequences of his actions. It’s like it’s all collapsing on him at once, domino after domino falling over until there’s nothing left. He’s caught in the red glow of Jack’s tail lights, a tear spilling over and sliding down his cheek.

He wipes at it hastily, sniffling and then shuffling his way over to the car. He climbs into the passenger seat without a word.

INT. HOSPITAL - LOBBY - NIGHT

Maya is still dressed in her graffiti garb, removing her knit cap and twisting it in her hands. She seems a bit lost as she tries to figure out where she’s going, the nurse at the front desk asking if there’s something she can help her with. She assures her she’s fine, and when she informs her that visiting hours are done for the evening, she explains she’s just here to pick up her sister from visiting their father.

She makes up a room number and sends the nurse on a wild goose chase, waiting until she’s out of sight to head down the opposite hallway and exploring for herself.

INT. HOSPITAL - HALLWAY - NIGHT

Maya makes her way along, reading spare paperwork and files as she goes to try and figure out where exactly she’s headed. Finally, she arrives at her destination, frozen in the doorway and unable to progress any further. The temporary nameplate on the door confirms she’s made it.

F. Minkus.

Maya peers around the door.

INT. HOSPITAL - FARKLE’S ROOM - NIGHT

And there is FARKLE MINKUS. Fatigued and hooked up to a dozen little wires but alive, seemingly snoozing in his hospital bed. A laptop and briefcase on the window seat indicates that he’s already got a visitor, but no one is around.

Maya stares at him for a long moment, until the sight of it becomes too much. She starts to turn away, making her escape --

Farkle: Maya?

She winces, not sure she actually heard him. She glances back over her shoulder, Farkle half-awake and blinking at her from across the room. He looks confused, but not upset to see her there. Maya deliberates before easing her way inside, taking the seat next to his bed.

Maya: … hi.

Farkle: What are you doing here? [ dazed ] Visiting hours are… except for family…

Maya: I just wanted -- I had to see you.

That said, it’s not necessarily for good reasons. Maya explains what Eric said, about all the emotions she might be feeling. And he’s right -- she is feeling all of that. She’s furious at him, furious that he would do this without even thinking about the rest of them. She’s mortified by the prospect of him not being there -- never being there again -- despite her statements that she’s better off without him. And because of that she’s confused, not sure whether she wants to forgive him or not but now all the things she was upset with him for originally feel trivial or stupid, which isn’t fair because he still did those things. And those things shouldn’t just get wiped clean because he tried to escape them permanently.

More than anything, though, she admits that she can’t believe he was going to leave without her. That he was just going to leave her behind in the most irreversible way possible, and she can’t even begin to wrap her head around that. She doesn’t want to exist in that world.

Maya: Everyone kept saying I needed to talk to someone. I had to talk to someone about you, about what happened. They kept saying that, but the only person who… the only person I could even fathom wanting to talk to was you.

That much, Farkle can understand. He’s clearly out of it, and it’s a wonder how much of this he’ll remember later, but it’s helping Maya to say it.

Maya: I just wanted to talk to you, but I don’t know if that’s what I wanted to say. I’m not sure what else to say. I’m still trying to… figure it out. I just hope that you -- I hope you realize --

She can’t articulate it. Farkle squints at her, trying to understand.

Maya: I don’t want this bullshit world if you’re not in it, Farkle. You got that? I’m not -- we’re not all dandy but -- it’s bullshit if it’s not with you.

Maya doesn’t offer the chance for clarifying questions. She rises from the seat and makes a hasty exit, disappearing before anyone can catch her or Farkle can ask something she doesn’t yet know the answer to.

INT. HOSPITAL - HALLWAY - NIGHT

Song Cue ♫ ♪ “Nothing Stops Another Day” as performed by Ghost Original Cast || Performed by Maya Hart

As Maya winds her way through the halls of the hospital, she launches into what is essentially the thesis of the episode -- and in some ways the season. Darkness is going to eclipse the light sometimes, and there will always be bad in the world. But the world keeps going regardless, and she can either succumb to it and disappear, or keep marching onward in spite of it.

Because the world keeps turning, and I guess it always will I can choose to turn around or I can choose to just stand still Either way, nothing stops another day...

INT. AAA - AUDITORIUM - NIGHT

Of course, Maya delivers an equally stirring rendition while on the fictional AAA stage, completing the trend for performances of the evening. And, tellingly, this lyric rings particularly true as we come out of the frost of February and launch into the rest of our season:

Winter can’t hold back the spring, no matter how dark it may seem…

INT. MATTHEWS APARTMENT - MASTER BEDROOM - NIGHT

Maya climbs back through the bay window, Riley already seemingly in bed and asleep after the crazy night she’s had. As Maya makes her way to her bed, she stops when she sees the item that has been left on her comforter.

The photo from Farkle’s locker of the two of them. Obviously left there by Riley, figuring she might want it all things considered.

As Maya rounds out the performance, she steps up to her future moodboard and adheres the photo to it. Surrounded by everything else, but taking a definitive space.

INT. AAA - BLACK BOX THEATER - DAY

The A class has assembled again on Monday, having survived another tough week. But the ripple effect of everything that has happened peeks through in subtle ways, like Maya nowhere near as glamorous and put together as usual and letting that vulnerability show. Isadora is next to her, equally as tired but still marching on. Asher is sitting closer to Dylan, their hands linked in his lap. Zay and Charlie can’t look at each other. Lucas is nowhere to be found.

Harper takes the front of the classroom, Shawn settling back against the teacher desk in the back and crossing his arms. Harper starts by apologizing for her outburst late last week, then explains that the reason she’s sorry is not because she had one, but because she wasn’t being candid with all of them. The truth of the matter is, this is just as difficult for her as it is for them, and she’s also feeling conflicted, overwhelmed, reckless, unsure.

In the midst of her speech, she grows uncertain. She glances back towards Shawn, who gives her an encouraging nod. Having her back, as he said he would.

She clears her throat, getting back on track. Some of her former confidence back intact, she explains that it doesn’t do anybody any good for them to struggle through this alone, so they’re going to get through it together. The class seems into this, offering weak smiles and nods. Dave gives an endorsing thumbs up.

Song Cue ♫ ♪ “Smile” as performed by Glee Cast || Performed by AAA Juniors

Harper gestures Riley up to stand with her, allowing her to take the reins and explain her idea of how to honor Farkle. As the soft guitar strums float in…

INT. AAA - AUDITORIUM - DAY

The junior A class keeps it painstakingly simple for this performance, in their regular clothes and seated along the edge of the stage. Dylan and Dave play their guitars, Riley taking the gentle opening verse and then allowing the vocals to pass amongst their classmates. The divas abstain from solos, instead giving Yindra, Clarissa, Darby, and Yogi the chance to shine.

INT. AAA - HALLWAY - DAY

While this unfolds, Riley leads her classmates in the decoration of Farkle’s locker. They’re adorning it with photographs, letters, flowers and warm wishes and small things for him to find when he finally returns to school. Each of them are taking the matter seriously, but also finding joy in the task. Lots of exchanged timid smiles, a couple of nervous laughs.

The reason Lucas is not in class is because he’s playing guard dog, set up on the floor next to Farkle’s locker and keeping people from stepping on the display or being careless around it. Putting his protectiveness and delinquency to good use. No one tries to stop him.

INT. AAA - AUDITORIUM - DAY

A fair majority of the A class have shed tears in the process of the performance, but somehow it’s a good thing. Relieving, a sense of catharsis, all of them sharing in the emotion together rather than attempting to fumble with it on their own. Riley reaches out and takes Maya’s hand -- Isadora squeezes Dylan’s shoulder.

It’s nice to hear their voices in harmony again, singing about looking towards the future with optimism rather than dread. It’s not going to be easy, and there’s much to rebuild, but Maya’s earlier sentiment is right -- winter can’t hold back the spring, no matter how dark it may seem.

INT. HOSPITAL - FARKLE’S ROOM - DAY

Their assembled voices float over our last shot of Farkle, asleep in his hospital bed but in recovery. Completely unaware of the impact he’s had, how grateful people are that he’s still there. STUART MINKUS is there with him, having fallen asleep in the chair by his bed and holding his son’s hand.

You’ll find that life is still worthwhile, if you just smile…

END OF EPISODE.

IF ANY of the content in this episode has been triggering, please reach out and talk to somebody you trust and who can help you. The following links are resources including hotlines, prevention organizations, and international numbers.

Suicide Prevention: https://suicidepreventionlifeline.org/

List of Suicide Hotlines: https://ibpf.org/resource/list-international-suicide-hotlines https://suicidestop.com/call_a_hotline.html

#S2 #episodes #208 #and here we are.

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ambitionsource · 4 years

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AMBITION Season 2 ♫ “How the Twinks Saved Christmas” [ Special ]

CREATED BY Esther (rapunzles) & Maggie (quincywillows) || S2 Tag || Official Page

THE THINGS WE HAVE TO DO – Asher and Dylan attempt to pull together the usual techie tradition when their commanders in chief are unable. One has to wonder how far a couple of loyal lieutenants will go for their best friend.

51 Minutes (10.5K words) || No warnings apply.

[ ← Cold Comfort ] [ S2 Synopsis ] [ Trapped → ]

( Follow along with the music on Spotify here! )

INT. LUCAS’S APARTMENT - NIGHT

We’re back at the end of 2.05, the techies flooding into the apartment to surprise LUCAS FRIAR for the holiday. He watches them all in shock before turning back to find ASHER GARCIA and DYLAN ORLANDO in the doorway, giving him smug smiles.

Dylan: Greetings, Mr. Grinch.

The scene proceeds as we saw it the first time, but subtle differences in the camera angles and costuming shine a little more light on the status of Asher and Dylan.

For being so put together in the execution of their holiday rescue, they’re a bit ragged in their appearance. Asher’s hair is a mess, which is a rare occurrence. Dylan’s cheeks are rosier than usual. They look like they’ve taken more than one trek through the winter sludge outside.

When they step forward to pull Lucas into their sandwich hug, the screen suddenly freezes on the sweet vignette. Very much a record scratch moment. Then, some familiar voices voice over the warm imagery:

Dylan: Aw, look at that. It’s so cute. Aren’t we cute?

Asher: Well, maybe one of us.

Dylan: Ignoring that. But you may have points with dad there.

Asher: He’s looked better.

Dylan: Sure he’s felt better, too.

Dissection of Lucas aside, Asher goes on to explain how this all makes everything seem so easy. Clicking back a couple of frames to their arrival, he points out how it really just seems like they just appeared out of thin air and brought the holiday cheer.

Although it’s a good part of the story, it’s certainly not the full story. And this doesn’t give nearly enough credit to how far from easy this whole thing was. Or, to the point, any credit to how the whole thing came together at all. Where it all started.

Then, the frames begin moving backwards in time, so fast that they’re hardly discernible. There are fleeting glimpses of moments -- Asher and Dylan dashing through the snow, the exterior of AAA in the glow of a wintery night, a Christmas tree farm…

EXT. AAA - DAY

Until we’re back outside AAA, the same day that Lucas stormed out early. On the precipice of winter break.

Asher: If you’re going to get the full story, then we’re going to have to go back to the start.

Dylan: Twas the day before winter break…

Time resumes on the frame of AAA, easing in towards the school as students begin disembarking for the end of term.

INT. AAA - AUDITORIUM - DAY

Song Cue ♫ ♪ “Please Come Home For Christmas” as performed by Kelly Clarkson || Instrumental

The techie crew isn’t going anywhere, not yet. The mood is deflated as the group of them gather in the auditorium, sitting on the stage like usual but not quite feeling like a cohort.

NATE MARTINEZ sits on one of the acting blocks, bouncing and catching a bouncy ball listlessly. JEFF MONROE reclines in a folding chair, leg bouncing restlessly. DAVE WILLIAMS is sprawled on the floor, staring up at the catwalk. JADE BEAMON is finishing some last minute seams on a costume, pin in her mouth as she glances up to listen to the discussion.

That discussion is being led by Asher, Dylan faithfully at his side with the rolling whiteboard. The two of them are attempting to brainstorm other ways the group of them could ring in the holiday spirit, since their techie tradition seems to have fallen through.

Seeing how the whiteboard only has a couple of half-hearted, random words written on it, it’s clear they’re not making much progress. Dylan has moved on to doodling tiny versions of all of them, more focused on that than the brainstorming.

Still, Asher isn’t giving up. He’s the only one actively putting in an effort, pacing as he racks his brain for a solution.

Asher: What about Chubbie’s? We could do family dinner there.

Jeff: Closed for the holidays. Won’t be open from tomorrow to the 26th.

Asher: Okay… oh, well, what about Svorski’s? Maybe she’d let us host something. I’m pretty sure she’s Jewish, right?

Jade: Can’t. We’re not allowed back ever since Dave’s incident with the pastila.

Dave: Look, I said I was sorry!

Clearly, this is going nowhere. Nate is the first to say so, gathering his things and getting ready to head out. The others take this as a cue, also getting ready to go. Dylan is pulled out of his drawing by the commotion (just finishing up a little heart next to his miniature Asher), realizing this is not going as planned.

Asher tries to get them all to hold up, just spend a little more time thinking of something, but the consensus seems to be that there’s no point.

Nate: Look, I get what you guys are trying to do. And it’s great, it’s beautiful that you still believe in the “power of friendship” or whatever, when this school was clearly forsaken and cast away to Hell ages ago.

Dylan: [ re: Hell ] You say that like it’s a bad thing...

Nate: But look around. Lucas and Smackle aren’t even here.

Jeff: Isa’s got her new crew now, she probably won’t even notice if the get together is dead.

Nate: We have no way to get into the school without Friar, and to be honest, what’s the point if he’s not going to be there?

Dave, sadly: Won’t be the same without Lucas.

Dave’s favoritism aside, he has a point. Asher searches for something to say, but comes up short. It’s not right, he knows it isn’t, but he can’t figure out how to fix it.

Nate tosses them a peace, telling them he’ll catch them in the new year. Jeff follows him out, then Dave, leaving only Jade behind as she finishes putting away the costuming supplies. Dylan steps forward to comfort Asher, patting his shoulder as Jade addresses them.

Jade: I think it’s really sweet, what you’re trying to do. I wish it would work, too. I wish there was a simple solution.

[ Asher can tell there’s a ‘but’ coming. Dylan looks at him, somber. ]

Jade: But I don’t know… maybe some things aren’t meant to last. Maybe sometimes… things just fall apart.

She steps forward to give both of them hugs, giving Asher a kiss on the cheek and wishing them both happy holidays. Then she heads out, leaving them alone on the empty stage.

Asher sighs, turning and actually looking at the whiteboard for the first time. He gives Dylan a look, somewhere between endeared and confused.

Asher: Is that supposed to be us?

Dylan: [ with a shrug ] It’s a work in progress.

INT. GARCIA HOME - ASHER’S ROOM - NIGHT

Song Cue ♫ ♪ “Mom Returns And Finale” as scored by John Williams for Home Alone || Instrumental (00:45 - 2:00)

That night, Asher is putting away his school things for the break. He takes a moment to edit his agenda, settling down at his desk and cross-checking the dates in his notebook with the ones on his wall calendar.

He hesitates when he gets to the scheduled date for the techie holiday party, originally set for tomorrow evening. He grabs a pen and begins to scratch it off his schedule… but he can’t bring himself to do it. The pen is hovering over the date on the calendar, but he can’t bring himself to pull the trigger and cross it out for good.

He gets distracted instead by a photo tucked behind the calendar, pushing it to the side a bit so he can get a better look. It’s a polaroid of him, Dylan, and Lucas, taken sometime the previous year. The two of them are all smiles, and even Lucas is cracking a smirk.

Even in photo form, the amount of love that exists between the three of them radiates. Asher takes the picture down from the board and holds it in his hands, obviously feeling sentimental. Remembering a time when things felt easier, torn up over what a mess things have become.

Asher, softly: Maybe some things aren’t meant to last…

Just as he’s contemplating this grim potential, a noise outside his window startles him. He glances at his clock and the late hour, eyes wide towards the window pane when another scrape sounds from just outside. It seems to be getting closer.

Asher edges closer to his window, a distinct sense of unease dominating the scene. He closes his eyes, shaking his head.

Asher: Please don’t be a holiday ghost, please don’t be a holiday ghost…

Mustering up his courage, he pushes open his window. For a second, there’s nothing… then Dylan pops his head up, scaring the hell out of Asher.

He’s out of breath, the climb up to his window being particularly difficult given the winter weather. He props his elbow on the window pane, catching his breath and giving him a grin.

Dylan: Evenin’, lover.

Asher sighs, helping him up and pulling him in through the window. He questions what the hell he’s doing out in this weather, let alone trying to climb around his house. Although he does it pretty frequently, testing his luck when everything is so icy seems like an ill-advised move.

Once he regains his bearings and shrugs off his winter coat, Dylan explains why he came. He can’t stop thinking about the holiday party, and the way they left things at school today. Everyone seemed so bummed, and it’s been plaguing him all afternoon. He continues on this thought train until he gets distracted by the neatly wrapped gift sitting on Asher’s wardrobe, addressed for him. He gets excited about that until Asher lightly smacks his hand away, reminding him that Christmas is in two days and he can surely wait until then.

Maybe so, but it’s so difficult to see Dylan Orlando pout. Asher caves somewhat, allowing him to eat the candy cane stuck to the outside of it early.

Dylan continues his explanation as he unwraps the candy cane, torn between eating it like a normal person and waving it around for emphasis. Now more than ever, he states, the crew of them should be banding together in spite of all the tension at school rather than just letting things fall apart.

Asher agrees, but he doesn’t know what they’re supposed to do about it. He tried to fix it earlier, and that crashed and burned. They were both there. This is where Dylan steps up, claiming that he might actually have the solution.

He hands Asher his candy cane to hold and proceeds to dig through his jacket pockets. Of course, he pulls out an assortment of things that aren’t what he’s looking for.

Dylan: [ pulling out a wrinkled receipt ] No, that’s not it. Oh, wait, I think I was supposed to return these actually --

[ Asher pops the candy cane in his mouth without thinking, waiting for him to find it. ]

Dylan: [ pulling out a used tissue ] Ew, well, haha, that’s not it --

As he’s about to simply put the tissue back in his pocket, Asher gags and shakes his head. He tells him to give it to him, Dylan obeying and passing it over. Asher holds it daintily, barely hiding his disgust as he quickly tosses it into the trash can.

Dylan: [ pulling out a movie ticket stub ] Oh, this is from Detective Pikachu! You remember when we saw that? We should totally get that when it comes out on digital download --

Asher: Dylan. Dyl. Lighthouse, bring it home.

Dylan: Right, right.

Dylan finally manages to retrieve what he’s looking for, a folded up piece of lined paper. He holds it up in his fingers proudly.

Dylan: Isa made a list.

As he goes on to explain, when Riley helped them set up the holiday party last year, Isadora made a step-by-step list of all the items that go into preparing their tradition. He also still has the grocery list from when the two of them helped with that task last year. All they have to do is complete all the preparations, and then they’ll bring the tradition to Lucas.

Not a bad idea. Asher definitely seems intrigued as he swaps out the candy cane for the list, looking it over. But he’s always been the detail-oriented one to Dylan’s big ideas, so he naturally has questions. Firstly, the elephant in the room.

Asher: What about Lucas’s dad? We’re hardly allowed over to his place as it is, if we showed up with all this when his dad was around he would freak.

Dylan: I thought about that, too. But then I remembered how he was complaining during Thanksgiving about his holiday plans getting swapped around. Originally his dad was going to be here for the winter holidays and not Thanksgiving, but then it got changed. Remember?

That’s one potential road block out of the way. Asher asks about money, as the endeavor to pull this thing off is usually a group effort. Dylan states that if they let the other techies know their plan, he’s sure they’ll chip in and help in whatever way they can. As for decorations, Dylan points out that they saved the ones they made from last year, so all they have to do is retrieve the old ones rather than make a ton of new ones.

Asher is warming up to the idea, but one glaring question still remains.

Asher: Do you really think we can pull this off in a day? The party was supposed to be tomorrow night. You actually think you and I can do this on our own.

Dylan: That, my dear --

[ Dylan grabs his duffle bag from underneath his heavy coat, dropping it onto the bed for emphasis. ]

Dylan: Is why I’m sleeping over. We’ve got an early start tomorrow!

So it’s settled. Dylan and Asher are going to save Christmas.

INT. GARCIA HOME - ASHER’S ROOM - DAY

Song Cue ♫ ♪ “Setting the Trap” as scored by John Williams for Home Alone || Instrumental

Asher’s alarm wakes them both up bright and early, the sun barely rising outside. He blinks himself awake, pulling himself free from hugging Dylan from behind and shaking him awake as well. If they’re going to do this thing, they’ve gotta get moving.

Thusly, a brief montage ensues of the two of them getting geared up for the mission. Pulling on their cozy sweaters, getting that good dental hygiene in with a brush and floss, Dylan attaching his skateboard to the back of his backpack and tightening the straps on his shoulders.

EXT. GARCIA HOME - DAY

Then Dylan kicks open the front door, the two of them ready for action. Heavy coats, gloves, and cute knit hats abound.

Dylan: Let’s get some holiday cheer, bitches.

EXT. NEW YORK STREETS - DAY

As they embark on their journey, however, they quickly become aware that this is going to be more difficult than they previously anticipated. Snow continued to fall overnight, and the sidewalks and roadways are slick with slush and ice.

So they’re stumbling and slipping as they make their way to the grocery store near Asher’s street, catching one another from falling entirely. Asher confirms that everyone has seen their text in the Techie Tots group chat, and slowly they’re sending in Venmo payments to chip in.

Dylan sets a timer on his phone. It’s 8AM now, and they’ll want to get to Lucas’s apartment by 8PM if they want a chance of catching him in his least Grinch-like mood. Especially given that Riley’s party is scheduled to start around the same time. That gives them 12 hours to get everything done. Piece of cake!

Just as he declares it so, Dylan nearly slips. Asher just barely manages to put him back upright.

INT. GROCERY STORE - DAY

Asher and Dylan step through the sliding doors, two men on a mission. All things considered, they’re lucky the store is even open with the weather and the holiday coming up. The MANAGER who just opened up questions what they’re doing there so damn early, especially with this terrible weather.

Dylan: It’s a noble mission that brings us here today, good sir. A labor of love, a perhaps doomed attempt to save a friend already gone, but an important task nonetheless --

Manager: Yeah, whatever, man. Just come to the front when you’re done.

Asher and Dylan exchange a look and a shrug. Asher retrieves the list from his pocket, gearing up to go through the process of collecting all the necessary rations in record time.

Song Cue ♫ ♪ “Little Saint Nick” as performed by The Beach Boys || Performed by Asher Garcia & Dylan Orlando

While the boys grab their cart and make their way through the aisles, the task is intercut with our first Dylan & Asher holiday duet. Naturally, Dylan plays his guitar and harmonizes while Asher takes the lead vocal. It’s unclear whether Dylan is actually not a bad singer as myth has led his classmates to believe or if it’s just a product of their imagination, but who are we to question it? It’s Dylan & Asher!

INT. AAA - AUDITORIUM - DAY

For the purposes of the performance, it’s cut between their duet alter egos wandering the aisles of the supermarket and performing on the AAA stage. As for how we can tell them apart, the Duet Dasher are far more well-groomed and dressed than their actual selves. They’re greatly channeling cheeky 50s energy, with coiffed hair and adorable fancy sweaters and vests.

To that point, the entire performance is purposefully cheeky. It’s somewhat of a satirical take on how serious the performances tend to be at AAA each week, Asher and Dylan acting more so as if they’re in a music video. They grin right at the camera, do a lot of synchronized steps, croon into the microphone like they’re the Beatles on Ed Sullivan.

INT. GROCERY STORE - DAY

Meanwhile, actual Asher and Dylan are painstakingly gathering all of their materials. Asher is once again riding in the cart while Dylan pushes, the former grabbing things and crossing them off the list as they go.

At one point the camera watches between two aisles as Dylan and Asher go back and forth with their cart, goofing off but also accidentally losing control of the cart and chasing after it. But they manage to accomplish their first task, sidling up to the register and unloading their stuff just as Duet Dasher gives us a parting wink from the auditorium stage.

Just as they’re adding up their total bill, Asher realizes in horror that not everyone has sent in their contribution yet. There’s no way they’re going to be able to pay without everyone’s contribution, especially without Isadora’s usual help. At first Dylan suggests using “the fund,” to which Asher snaps in exasperation.

Asher: I’m not using my college fund!

Dylan: It’s a holiday emergency!

Asher instead focuses on who hasn’t paid, narrowing down the culprit and letting out a feral growl Lucas would be proud of as he dials their number. This leaves Dylan to engage with the cashier and buy them some time, which he does with a bright beam and a bat of his eyelashes.

Dylan: Hi. How’s it going for ya?

The moment whoever Asher is calling picks up, he lets them have the full force of his anxious, feral stress.

Asher: NATHANIEL!

INT. NATE’S HOME - LIVING ROOM - DAY

Nate is crashed on his couch, eating junk food and playing video games as he enjoys the first day of winter break. He puts the phone on speaker and props it on his shoulder, keeping his focus on the game while he chats.

Nate: Hey, Ashlie. What’s up, man?

INT. GROCERY STORE - DAY

The scene continues between the two locations as Asher and Nate argue about the payment. Asher knows he saw his text, and everyone else has chipped in. But in Nate’s defense, as he goes on to say, there’s no guarantee that any of this is even going to work. It’s a noble pursuit, and he has mad respect for both of them…

Dylan: What’s he saying?

Asher: He has great respect for both of us.

Dylan: Aw. That’s so sweet. Tell him I love him, too.

… but he’s not going to just throw money around. The chances of them pulling this off are slim, and he needs the money. While Asher continues to nudge him, Dylan continues to try and win over their cashier.

Dylan: So… um… do you come here often?

Cashier, flatly: I’m a cashier.

Dylan: Yeah. [ a beat ] Tough business to be in this time of year, eh? Or... any time of year...

Asher is starting to wear Nate down, so he agrees he’ll send over his fair share… but with an “insurance fee.”

Asher: An insurance fee? What the hell is an insurance fee?

Nate: You know, like, money back guarantee.

Asher: Well, yeah, of course we’ll pay you guys back if --

Nate: But that’s not very incentivizing, is it? No, that’s what the fee is for. If you guys blow it, then I get my money back plus fifteen percent interest.

Asher: Fifteen percent?! Who are you, Scrooge McDuck?

Dylan has changed tactics, digging through his wallet for other potential forms of payment.

Dylan: Do you perchance take hug coupons? [ a beat, then quickly ] Wait, no, I need those...

The clock is ticking, so Asher can’t afford to argue much longer. After Nate points out that it’s merely common sense business practice -- the only helpful class he’s really taken at AAA so far -- Asher caves and agrees to the insurance fee.

Nate: My contribution is incoming. I’m wishing you both the best of luck, honest.

Asher: Kiss my ass, Nathaniel Dean Martinez!

Nate: God, feral Asher is my favorite Asher. See y’all tonight… maybe.

Once Asher hangs up, it’s mere seconds before Nate’s payment comes through. He comes to Dylan’s aid and swipes that debit card. Groceries secured!

EXT. NEW YORK STREETS - DAY

Asher and Dylan attempt to travel once again, only now they’re balancing grocery bags in that equation as well. They have to hold onto one another’s arms to stay upright, and even then they continue to slip a lot. At this point, they’re more concerned about the contents of their bags than their own well-being.

INT. GARCIA HOME - KITCHEN - DAY

It’s a relief when they make it back to the house, unpacking and inventorying their items and putting what needs to be refrigerated away for safe-keeping.

As Asher stocks the fridge, Dylan crosses the shopping off their list. The next item is a big ticket one -- finding the perfect tree. It’s going to be tough without Isadora’s usual expertise, not to mention that the first task took longer than expected. They’re now running with only 8 hours to go.

Plenty of time, Dylan declares. But if they’re looking to save minutes, he has ideas about how they could speed up their travel… as a sunshine grin takes over his features...

EXT. NEW YORK STREETS - DAY

Song Cue ♫ ♪ “Holiday Flight” as scored by John Williams for Home Alone || Instrumental

Dylan’s brilliant idea is, inarguably, bonkers. The two of them are dangerously riding his skateboard down the slippery streets, Dylan using a broom to push them along rather than risking slipping on his own feet.

It’s insane, but it sure is speeding up their distance per minute. Dylan is grinning like a maniac as he steers them along and maneuvers around other seasoned New Yorkers, Asher holding on for dear life from behind.

Dylan: See! I told you it would work!

Asher: [ hiding his head in Dylan’s shoulder ] We’re going to die, we’re going to die --

EXT. CHRISTMAS TREE FARM - DAY

Thankfully, the two of them make it to the tree farm in one piece, albeit windswept. Asher looks a little sick, and he has to hold onto Dylan’s arm just to keep from getting dizzy and stumbling.

The daunting task of picking a tree doesn’t help matters. The selection is smaller than usual so close to the holiday, but it’s still a maze of potential greenery and the two of them don’t even know where to start.

Dylan makes a bold move, scanning the rows until he spots one and claims it’s the perfect choice. He, of course, has eyed the largest tree in the bunch. The TREE ATTENDANT comes over to join them, seeing if they need help.

Dylan: How much for this one?

Asher: Well, actually, we’re kind of looking for ones that are a bit --

Tree Attendant: Why, that one there is Rhonda. She’s sort of the queen around here, one of our burliest residents.

Dylan: Rhonda, Asher!

Asher reminds Dylan that they’re looking for something small, even if Rhonda is… beautiful in her own special way. Dylan is heartbroken, but he assures Rhonda that it’s nothing to do with her. It’s all them.

The tree attendant guides them to the more appropriately sized trees for what they’re looking for, Dylan wondering how on Earth they get trees to grow this small.

Dylan: Oh, of course. [ matter-of-factly, with a wise nod ] Shrink ray.

Tree Attendant: … he’s real special, isn’t he?

Asher, fondly: Yeah, he’s one of a kind.

The tree attendant leaves them to look at their pickings, but the task still feels daunting. So many potential trees, so little time.

Song Cue ♫ ♪ “Sleigh Ride” as performed by The Carpenters || Performed by Asher Garcia & Dylan Orlando

Same routine as the last duet, only no auditorium jump this time around. While actual Dylan and Asher make their ways through the trees and attempt to identify the perfect one, Duet Dasher with their fancy threads and swoopy hair casually saunter their way down the aisles while performing the Carpenters classic. Naturally, cheek comes with the territory.

While Duet Dasher is skipping around in the snow, Dylan and Asher are narrowing down their search. Once they think they’ve found the right one, another road block develops -- this tiny tree is way heavier than it looks. Thus, the second half of the number involves them attempting different ways to move this tree between the two of them… with limited success.

Duet Dasher wrap their performance by playing leap frog, popping up behind the rows of trees, and grinning at the camera again; Dylan and Asher wrap up their try at getting the tree mobile by Dylan pulling Asher while he holds onto the tree, both of them losing their grip and collapsing off-screen into the snow.

EXT. CHRISTMAS TREE FARM - DAY - LATER

Song Cue ♫ ♪ “Star of Bethlehem” as scored by John Williams for Home Alone || Instrumental (first ~90 seconds)

Dylan sits forlornly by the tree while Asher paces, impatiently waiting for back up. It arrives in the form of Dave and Jade, who express that they got their call and are there to help with the big emergency. Asher explains the dilemma, gesturing to Dylan sitting by their choice selection.

Jade, unimpressed: This is the tree you picked? You guys are hopeless.

Asher is offended, but Jade promises them she’ll help them pick a better tree in no time. She was the original assistant to Isadora the first time they did this in freshman year. Dylan holds out his hands and Asher helps pull him back to his feet, the four of them setting off.

Once Jade has identified the superior fir, Dylan and Asher point out the weight problem. It’s too heavy for them to transport, especially with nothing but Dylan’s skateboard. Dave gives it a try, lifting the small evergreen like it’s nothing and hoisting it onto his shoulder.

Dylan, delighted: You are a miraculous freak of nature, Davis Williams.

If they’re showing up to this shindig anyway, Jade and Dave agree that they’ll play tree keeper and make sure it gets to Lucas’s on time. The group of them head out to pay together.

EXT. NEW YORK STREETS - DAY

Asher and Dylan are catching a quick lunch with Jade and Dave, the four of them sharing a pick-me-up on the street corner and discussing how the holiday heroics are going. Dave stands with the tree, balancing it against his hip.

Dave: I wonder how they make Christmas trees this small. [ a beat ] Oh, duh.

Dylan/Dave, in unison: Shrink ray.

While Dylan breaks off a piece of his food and hands it to Asher for him to try, the latter explains that they’re making good progress. They’ve got 5 hours left, and all they have to do is retrieve the decorations and they’ll be all set. So if they could grab them from Jade, that would be great.

Jade: What? I don’t have them.

Asher starts choking in surprise, all of them reacting accordingly. Jade and Dave back off a bit while Dylan pats Asher’s back, rubbing his shoulders when he’s able to breathe again.

Asher: What? What do you mean you don’t have them?

Jade: They’re still in the auditorium as far as I know. When we were cleaning up last year, Lucas told me that he was going to put them somewhere for safekeeping. So I handed them over and that was the last I saw of them.

Dylan pulls a napkin and lightly dabs at Asher’s face. He gives him a grateful nod, still trying to wrap his mind around this bombshell.

Asher: God, Jade, don’t you know not to trust Lucas with anything?

Jade: Um, no, I know not to trust Dave with anything.

Dave, flatly: … ow.

Jade holds up a hand, waving him off. This completely changes Dylan and Asher’s understanding of what they set out to do.

But they’ve still got to try. They finish their meal quickly and bid Dave and Jade farewell, assuring them that they’ll see them at Lucas’s at 8 sharp. Dave is confused that they still think they can pull this off, but they’re already boarding Dylan’s skateboard death trap again.

Dave: You guys are cracked.

Dylan: High praise, coming from you, my friend.

Dylan gives them a salute, Asher holding on tight as they push off down the street. Jade and Dave watch them go, shaking their heads and finishing their snack.

EXT. AAA - DAY

The sun is beginning to set as Dylan and Asher stop outside the school, rushing up the slippery steps. They try the front entrance first, which is obviously locked.

Dylan: [ with a shrug ] Worth a shot.

EXT. AAA - RIGHT SIDE - DAY

They continue to do a full perimeter sweep of the building, searching for any potential entry points. It seems like a lost cause until they get around to the side of the building where the custodial services backs out to, a window left cracked open on the second floor offering a slim chance. Asher points it out, the two of them standing close together and staring up at it.

Just as they’re brainstorming how to approach the situation, Asher’s phone rings. He picks it up, surprised to hear from Isadora on the other end. While he turns around to focus on the call, Dylan rolls his shoulders and marches towards the building. He climbs up onto the dumpster against the wall, starting an ambitious scaling to get to the window.

Isadora asks if Asher thinks he or the techies will be attending Riley’s party. He states that they aren’t, Dylan disappearing out of frame above him as Isadora seems to react negatively to that. Asher points out that this shouldn’t exactly be surprising considering none of them really know how to interact with Riley at this point -- like sure, he’d like to be there, but that’s not their tradition is it?

Isadora: What, that tradition that isn’t even happening this year? That the own creator of said tradition ditched because he’s just not in the mood?

Asher: Look, I’m not saying it’s a perfect --

Isadora: So you’re just gonna hold allegiance to this thing that isn’t even happening for… what? A guy who doesn’t even care?

Asher grows defensive, attempting to speak on behalf of Lucas and argue that he does care. The last thing he needs at the moment is a reality check, but Isadora is especially good at giving them. Feeling cornered, he makes a brusque effort to deflect focus.

Asher: Well it’s easy for you to say, isn’t it? You’ve got tons of new friends now, so what do you have to worry about?

Isadora goes quiet on the other end. Asher realizes how harsh he may have come across, closing his eyes and sighing. He tries to turn it around.

Asher: Look, I just meant… you’ve got a lot going for you, Isa. You should go. Have fun, enjoy the holiday with people who are actually happy to share it with you. [ a beat ] Sometimes, I wish I were doing the same.

Before either of them can continue, Asher is startled by Dylan falling from the ledge outside the second story window and landing in the open dumpster. Asher shrieks.

Isadora: Asher, what --

Asher: Gotta go!

He hangs up without further explanation, sprinting over to the dumpster. He shouts for Dylan, jumping halfway up the dumpster and hanging over the side.

Dylan pops his head up, obviously dazed. Asher grips his shoulders and face, checking for irreversible damage.

Asher: Oh my God, are you okay?

Dylan: … well. That’s gonna hurt tomorrow. Ha.

Asher helps pull him from the dumpster. He’s a bit unsteady on his feet, Asher having to rush forward and stabilize him when he almost falls over. Asher wonders if they should go to the ER, but Dylan waves him off.

Dylan: I’ve had… worse falls. Ha ha, remember when I tried to skateboard into the subway and broke my arm and three of my toes?

Asher: … I try not to.

The situation is growing increasingly bleak. It’s getting dark, and there’s clearly no way they’re going to be able to get inside.

Dylan: Just give me a minute, then I’ll try again --

Asher: Try -- try again? No, no you are not trying that again!

Dylan: Well, if it’s the only way inside --

Asher: No. No, sorry, I didn’t ask for a dead boyfriend for Christmas!

It isn’t going to work. They’ve only got 3 hours left, and there are still so many pieces that aren’t working. Asher is starting to spiral, the hopelessness of the semester finally creeping up on him. Dylan suggests they give up on the decorations and just move forward with the party anyway, but Asher questions why they’re even bothering at all. They should just go home.

He marches back towards the main street in a huff. It takes Dylan a second, but he shakes off his daze and jogs after him.

EXT. AAA - NIGHT

The sun has set as Asher stumbles down the steps and back towards the sidewalk, Dylan calling for him to wait up. He does, wiping at his eyes as his boyfriend catches up to him. A light snow is beginning to fall again.

Dylan asks why Asher is suddenly giving up. They’ve still got time and solid chances, but Asher disagrees. They’ve hit a dead end, and this entire semester has been leading towards it. And what’s the point anyway? With how Lucas has been acting lately, he probably won’t even care about all the effort they put into this. He won’t care. He probably doesn’t even want them there.

Dylan: You know that’s not true.

Asher: Maybe everyone else was right. We’re being stupid. I’m being stupid. [ with a tearful huff, quietly ] Maybe sometimes things just fall apart.

He’s reached a breaking point, and rightfully so. Dylan clearly wants to help, or say something that will magically fix things, but he doesn’t have the words. He’s never been smart with words.

Song Cue ♫ ♪ “O Holy Night” as scored by John Williams for Home Alone || Instrumental

Suddenly, the street lights flick on as the sounds of a church organ float down the somewhat empty street. Dylan looks over his shoulder to search for the source, blinking the snow out of his eyes. He seems to find what he’s looking for, hit with an idea.

Gently, he reaches out and takes Asher’s hand. Asher lifts his gaze to meet his eyes, looking at him curiously. Dylan doesn’t say anything, but gives him a tentative smile before beginning to lead the way down the street.

Asher follows without question, letting him guide the way.

INT. CHURCH - NIGHT

Dylan and Asher arrive at the entrance of the church a block or so away from Adams, cautiously making their way inside. The music is coming from the youth church choir, rehearsing for Christmas Eve mass most likely. Yes, this is directly reminiscent of Home Alone.

Still hand in hand, the boys toss an uncertain look to the church worker standing by the main entrance. But she doesn’t give them any trouble, offering a welcoming nod and smile as they ease their way inside. This definitely isn’t Charlie’s church, in any case.

They make their way further inside and settle into one of the back pews, Dylan sitting down first and waiting for Asher to join him. For a moment they absorb the atmosphere, the calm beauty of the architecture and the soothing tones of the choir. It’s a well-needed second to breathe after the day they’ve had. Dylan rests their joined hands against Asher’s knee.

Considering how much work they’ve been doing alone, it’s a bit of a surprise to be addressed by someone new.

Man: Mind if I join you?

Asher and Dylan turn to the aisle, shocked to see their new visitor outside of school.

Asher/Dylan: Janitor Harley Keiner???

HARLEY KEINER jokes about how he does in fact exist outside of AAA, before posing the question again. Both of them nod, scooting down a bit to make room.

Song Cue ♫ ♪ “Star of Bethlehem - Voice” as scored by John Williams for Home Alone || Instrumental

As Harley settles in next to Asher, he wonders what he’s doing there. Harley claims he could ask them the same thing, before going on to point out one of the young girls singing in the youth choir. He explains that she’s his niece, and while he doesn’t come around for the actual service since he’s far from a practiced man of faith, he does like to come and listen to them rehearse. Sort of a little tradition he has.

Dylan: Oh, we know all about traditions.

Harley: That right?

Asher: Well, thought we did. Don’t think it’s going to shape up all that well this year.

Harley: Ah, yeah. Your secret little auditorium party, yeah?

Dylan/Asher, in shock: You know about that?!

Harley: Boys, my entire job is to know the status of that school day in and day out --

Dylan: I thought it was to clean.

Harley: Tip of the iceberg, Orlando.

That seems to blow Dylan’s mind. His expression conveys as much as he tries to process it, while Asher awkwardly apologizes for any trouble their tradition might have caused. But Harley waves him off. He says he’s not against a little holiday cheer, nor the harmless tomfoolery that might accompany it. He’s no stranger to tomfoolery.

Neither is their ringleader, he knows. And given that they’re locked out in the cold, Harley guesses that Lucas must not be helping the endeavor this year. They agree, in vague terms, but explain that it almost makes them feel like they need to make it happen even more so.

Harley: I’m not arguing with that. Truth be told, Lucas reminds me a lot of myself when I was your age. Good ideals, less than ideal circumstances, always looking for the quick thrill or easy way out. Need a good distraction, you know?

Asher and Dylan exchange a look. Sounds about right.

Harley: Only difference is, I was kicking it all on my own. Wasn’t great about keeping friends, and the ones I had weren’t true blue. So I ended up making all the wrong turns.

Asher: I’m sorry to hear that.

Harley: Oh, hey, don’t go feeling sorry for me. I’m old, I hardly need the sympathy, save it for your friends who need it. And to be honest, I’m lucky. I’m lucky to have ended up where I did, all things considered. But sometimes I do think about what I might be doing now, had things gone differently. [ a beat ] If Lucas has friends like the two of you in his corner, looking out for him, then he’s already far better off than I was.

[ Dylan smiles. Asher thinks on it, then shrugs. ]

Asher: Well, we love him.

Harley: I’ll tell ya, he knows. And it means more than either of you will ever fully know.

Could just be the random musings of their kooky school janitor, but he speaks like he knows what he’s talking about. And Dylan and Asher want to believe it. It’s a good reminder as to why they set out to do this crazy thing in the first place.

Harley sits up, asking if the boys will do him one favor before he heads out. He requests that they apologize to Lucas on his behalf, on account of the whole “pest” situation in the booth. He was just doing his job, but he didn’t realize there would be such immediate ramifications. He never meant for him to get the boot.

Harley: I’m sure it’s no fun to be put out of what you considered home, ‘specially if you were desperate enough to make that your home in the first place.

Asher and Dylan nod along, more than happy to pass on the message. Harley gives them a smile and a warm farewell, wishing both of them the best of luck and happy holidays.

Song Cue ♫ ♪ “Making the Plane” as scored by John Williams for Home Alone || Instrumental

By the time he’s out of the pew, Asher notices he left behind a few of his keys. He holds them up, calling after him.

Asher: Um, Harley, sir, you forgot your keys.

Harley: [ without looking back ] No, I didn’t.

Asher frowns in confusion, glancing down at the keys in his hands. It hits him at the exact same time it dawns on Dylan, the two of them locking eyes with their jaws dropped open.

Bingo.

EXT. NEW YORK STREETS - NIGHT

Dylan and Asher are tearing across the street again, holding hands for balance as they dart their way back towards AAA.

EXT. AAA - BACK ENTRANCE - NIGHT

Dylan slides up to the doors first, Asher tossing him the keys. He unlocks the door and lets out a muted cheer, holding the door open for Asher to run through. Then he leaps in after him, glancing over his shoulder and shutting them inside.

INT. AAA - HALLWAY - NIGHT

The halls are dim, the building shut down for the holidays. Only the emergency lights are still on, providing enough light for Dylan and Asher to see as they peer over the windows in the doors to the auditorium.

This, they don’t have the keys for, so they’ll have to improvise. Asher digs in his pocket and retrieves a paper clip, bending it backwards until it’s usable as a lock pick.

Asher: We’ve spent enough time with Lucas in the last three years, this’ll be a snap. All we have to do is --

Asher curses to himself, accidentally pinching his finger while attempting to pick the lock. He sucks at the blood bruise on his finger, Dylan delicately taking the paper clip from his hands.

Dylan: Maybe I should try?

Asher: Yeah, okay.

Like techie dad, like techie son. Dylan is successful in picking the lock, ushering Asher inside.

INT. AAA - AUDITORIUM - NIGHT

The ghost light illuminates the stage until Dylan flicks on the lights, Asher wandering to the center of the stage and spinning around. The decorations could be anywhere in the auditorium, and they’ve only got 90 minutes left.

Dylan points out that the decorations have to be in the booth. Where else would Lucas put them? Asher acknowledges the likelihood of this, but Harley didn’t give them the key for it. Before they go to the effort of picking another lock, he thinks they should phone a friend.

Asher dials, waiting impatiently for them to pick up. Dylan continues to wander around the stage, looking for other possible alternatives.

Asher: Jeff? Are you there?

INT. JEFF’S HOME - KITCHEN - NIGHT

Jeff is seated at the counter in his kitchen, his family just off-screen. They’re clearly in the process of making holiday snacks, Jeff just taking a bite of a frosted sugar cookie as he answers the phone.

Jeff: Ash Cash Money. What’s up? How goes saving Christmas?

Asher claims it’s fine, and Jeff goes on to state that he’s got hella good cookies for the party… if they manage to pull it off. Asher claims they will, as Dylan gesturing to a theoretical watch gets him back on track. He questions if Jeff knows whether Lucas hid the decorations in the booth, which Jeff confidently denies.

Jeff: There’s no way they’re in there. I didn’t see them all year, and that booth is not that big. I would’ve seen them if they were there.

[ Asher gives Dylan a shake of his head. Dylan sighs, running his hands through his hair exasperatedly. ]

Jeff: Besides, Lucas’s whole thing was that he wanted to put them somewhere where nosy performers or administrators wouldn’t find them. If they were looking, like you guys, the booth is the first place they would check. He made a point of not being obvious.

Dylan: Damn that beautiful Grinch.

Asher thanks Jeff, before Dylan cops the phone and asks if he would be willing to pick up Dave and Jade and help with the tree. The roads have cleared up, and they’ll be coming from the same area. He and Asher could do it, but they’re running out of time.

Dylan: Besides, there’s the whole thing of the pine needles, and you know how Asher gets about messes. We’d be picking needles out of my Jeep for like a year.

Jeff: Yeah, yeah, whatever. I’m on it. Good luck, gays.

Song Cue ♫ ♪ “Attack On the House” as scored by John Williams for Home Alone || Instrumental

Dylan salutes on instinct, hanging up and handing the phone back to Asher. The two of them are at a loss, not sure where to look next. There’s way too much ground to cover with the time they have remaining.

Dylan: Well, you know what we have to do, don’t you?

Asher: What?

Dylan, boldly: We’ve got to think like Lucas.

Asher: [ making a disturbed face ] … I don’t wanna.

Dylan declares that it’s the only way, rushing over to stand with him and taking his hands. He takes a deep breath, claiming that they’ll use the same practices as that exercise stretching thing Asher makes them do.

Asher: … you mean yoga?

Dylan: Yeah! Except instead of channeling the greater cosmic energy, we’re… channeling the energy of our demonic best friend.

Asher, wearily: We’re gonna get possessed.

Still, it may very well be the only way. Dylan instructs him to close his eyes, both of them letting out a deep breath. They release hands as they each begin to pace, eyes still closed. They’re channeling Lucas… thinking like Lucas…

Asher: I’m… thinking loyal. Unapologetic. Weirdly flirty.

Dylan: Sounds about right.

Asher: I’m… dressing badly. Need a haircut.

Dylan: Repressing my emotions --

Asher, sharply: No regard for other people’s feelings --

Dylan: … well, at least we’re being honest.

They continue the exercise, gearing their train of thought towards where Lucas would hide something. Dylan takes the reins.

Dylan: I’m… definitely still keeping it in the auditorium.

Asher: Definitely.

Dylan: I’m not sure I even actually know any other part of the school, even though I complain about it ninety percent of the day. I might have a crush on the auditorium.

Asher: Complaining is definitely on the right track.

Dylan: I’m thinking… costume loft. There’s so many other bags and things in there, no one would notice --

Asher: But no, I wouldn’t. Because that’s where people go to hook up, and --

Dylan/Asher, in unison: I’m scared of all forms of intimacy!

Dylan: Good catch, good catch.

Another failure, another chance to try again.

Asher: I’m thinking… maybe the prop loft?

Dylan: No, nope I wouldn’t do that. Because I know Asher would find it, and he’d get so distracted with trying to organize it that he might overdo it and we might have to end up getting a bunch of new decorations anyway.

Asher pauses, opening his eyes and giving Dylan a look. Dylan tilts his head at the quiet, peeking to look at him and catching the expression on his face.

Dylan, quickly: But his boyfriend Dylan Orlando would love it if he did that!

Asher sneers, shaking off the moment and redirecting his focus. He heads to the center of the stage, doing another 360 turn and shrugging. Dylan drifts over to join him.

Asher: Lucas wouldn’t go beyond the auditorium, but he wouldn’t do something like the dressing rooms where the performers dominate. And we’ve considered like every main techie locale.

Dylan: Then where else? All there is left as a possibility would be --

Realization dawns on them once again, Asher frowning. Slowly, the two of them lift their gaze to look above them, where the catwalk hangs so high above them.

Dylan: Damn that beautiful Grinch.

The two of them make their way over to the stairs to the catwalk, a small nook by the dressing room doors that is fenced off by chainlink. They don’t have the key to this gate either -- only Lucas, Isadora, and the faculty do -- but there’s enough room between the lower ceiling here and the top of the fence where someone might be able to squeeze through.

Dylan rolls up his sleeves, gearing up to start climbing the chainlink. Asher watches apprehensively as he goes, but just when it seems that all will work out… Dylan gets stuck. He overestimated the size of the gap, and he’s too tall and broad-shouldered to fit. There’s a reason Lucas never climbs over this thing… apart from just having the key, of course.

Another dead end. Dylan hops back down, commenting who would’ve thought he wouldn’t fit.

Dylan: Who would’ve thought my shoulders would be the death of me?

Asher: I could’ve told you that.

Mini thirst moment aside, Dylan claims he doesn’t know what they’re going to do. He’s not going to be able to make it through, and with Asher’s fear of heights there’s no way he’s going up on that catwalk. What a shame, to have gotten this far only to come out with nothing.

Only Asher doesn’t seem like he’s giving up. He approaches the chainlink, lightly touching the metal and glancing up at the climb. They’ve already wasted their entire day, and Harley’s words of wisdom are rattling around in his skull. This is something they need to do.

Asher: Oh, to hell with it. Boost me, I’m going up.

Dylan kneels down to help Asher start climbing, the latter having had his fair share of practice after being friends with Lucas for so long. He has more luck than Dylan, managing to just squeeze through the opening and end up on the other side. When he jumps down and sticks the landing he throws his hands up on instinct, Dylan mirroring the gesture enthusiastically.

Now all there is left to do is go up. Asher approaches the tiny spiral staircase, gulping as he looks up at it. Dylan comes up to the chainlink and watches forlornly from the other side, obviously wishing he could be there with him.

Dylan: You don’t have to do this.

But all Asher can think about is Lucas. So he does. He really does. Asher exhales a sigh.

Asher: Just don’t let me look down.

INT. AAA - CATWALK - NIGHT

Asher emerges nervously from the stairs, eyeing the catwalk stretching across the stage before him. It seems to go on forever. Already, he’s starting to feel a little woozy.

Dylan pulls him out of it, jogging out of the wings and onto the stage so that he’s underneath him. For every step Asher takes, he takes one with him. With him in spirit, even if he can’t be there to hold his hand in person.

Dylan: You got this. Just focus on walking. One step at a time. Walking and breathing.

Asher nods, keeping his eyes straight ahead of him as he carefully steps out from the platform and onto the suspended catwalk. He swallows, letting out another nervous breath as he takes another step.

Dylan aims to keep him distracted, finding other things to focus on.

Dylan: Let’s think about something else. Think about… production design for the spring production. Or, uh, what you’re going to eat first at the party. [ a beat ] Count backwards from 453 by 7.

Asher: Dyl…

Dylan: I’m serious, it’s harder than it sounds. But okay, sure, no math. Think about Dave’s catastrophic disaster area of a locker -- no wait, don’t do that! That’ll just make you more stressed.

Asher is hardly listening to what he’s actually saying, but it’s clear just hearing his voice is helpful. He’s down to crawling at this point and his eyes are basically screwed shut, but he’s still moving. That’s not nothing.

About halfway across, Asher opens his eyes and squints towards the opposite end where the catwalk bookends. From what he can make out, there seems to be a lump of some kind tucked away in the rafters that could very well be a bag of decorations…

Energized by potential success, Asher scrambles to the other end and drops down in front of the bag, pulling it towards him. To his relief, all of their decorations from last year are tucked inside.

Asher: I got it! Dylan, I found them!

Dylan: You did?

Asher: I did!

Dylan: Hell yeah, paramour!

Asher and Dylan negotiate how to get the thing down, certain there aren’t any breakables that might get destroyed if he drops it. He lowers the bag as far as he can without looking, letting it go. Dylan catches it easily, dropping it at his feet and assuring Asher that he got it. Now he just has to come down and they’re set!

And with 1 hour to spare. It’ll take them half of it to get the groceries and make it to Lucas’s, so not too shabby. Asher nods and climbs back to his feet, making a much quicker trek back across the other direction.

However, Asher’s lack of catwalk experience leaves him unaware of the rickety rung. There’s one specific rung connecting two pieces of the catwalk that’s not as stable as the others -- not a true threat as it’s still highly secured, but it can sure cause quite a disturbance if it’s jostled.

Which is exactly what happens. Asher accidentally knocks his boot against the rung, causing the whole catwalk to groan and tremble in response. It feels like the whole thing is going to come apart and Asher freaks, dropping down to his hands and knees and accidentally sending a spare wrench off the side off the catwalk towards the stage.

Asher: Dylan, look out -- !

Dylan: Ash!

Dylan ducks out of the way, narrowly avoiding being hit by the falling wrench. But he’s hardly concerned about that. He’s far more concerned about how Asher has totally stopped moving, frozen in fear and huddled in the middle of the catwalk. He’s making himself as small as possible, screwing his eyes shut.

Asher: Shit, shit, shit --

Dylan jogs back under the catwalk, trying to get a better angle on what’s going on up there.

Dylan: Ash! Asher, are you okay?

Asher isn’t exactly equipped to answer. He’s on the verge of a panic attack, hands trembling and breathing uneven. Dylan stares up at him, their original mission long forgotten.

Dylan: Ash…

Tentatively, Asher opens his eyes. He can make out Dylan staring up at him through the metal of the catwalk, but the distance from where he is to the ground is way more gripping. He winces and closes his eyes again, shaking his head.

Asher: … just go.

Dylan: What?

Asher: Go on without me. You’ve got the decorations. It’ll be fine.

Dylan: You’re out of your mind, I’m not leaving you here.

Asher claims he has to. For Lucas, and so they don’t owe Nate 15%. Because they’ve wasted all this time, and now his anxious ass is going to blow it. They’ve gotten this far, and he’s not going to be the reason they don’t make it. But Dylan isn’t hearing it.

Dylan: Look, screw Nate and screw the mission, alright? Asher, I’m not leaving you here alone. I’m not going anywhere.

Hard to argue with that. Asher exhales another harsh breath, trying to get control of his breathing. He’s had panic attacks before, he knows he’ll survive it. He just has to breathe.

Dylan tells him he’s going to be with him the whole time, and that they’re going to get him down. He doesn’t even have to open his eyes, he just has to be willing to move. Dylan will talk him through the rest.

Dylan: If anything happens, you know I’ll catch you.

Asher: [ exhaling a nervous laugh ] Then we’ll both be dead --

Dylan: No one is dying. No dead boyfriends for Christmas, remember?

It’s hard to find humor in such a bleak situation, yet somehow Dylan manages. Asher exhales another shaky laugh, still not opening his eyes but less petrified than before. Dylan smiles.

Dylan: I’m with you, Ash. I got you. But you have to move.

So… he does. A little bit. Then a little bit more. He’s completely trusting in Dylan to make sure he’s on the right track, eyes still closed as he gives him encouragement and guidance from below. It’s clear that the two of them are experts at communicating with one another, knowing exactly what to say or how to react to each other.

When there’s only a few more steps left, Asher has made it back to a crouch. He tentatively opens his eyes, and seeing the end so close, scrambles up and makes a mad dash for it. He lands on the platform to the stairs with an exhausted sigh, Dylan cheering for him from down below.

INT. AAA - AUDITORIUM - NIGHT

Asher manages to propel himself through his final escape from the catwalk, handling it on his own until he’s climbing back over the chainlink. He loses his grip with shaky hands and slips off the other side, but as promised, Dylan is there to catch his fall. He holds him around the middle and pulls him back a comfortable distance from the fence, giving both of them the chance to breathe.

Then Asher straightens up, turning around just in time for Dylan to take his face and pull him into an enthusiastic kiss. When they pull apart Dylan can’t stop grinning, still holding his face and looking at him proudly.

Dylan: Asher Garcia, you are the most badass person I know. And you just saved Christmas.

Well, not quite yet. They’ve got just about 30 minutes left, so they better book it.

Song Cue ♫ ♪ “We Wish You A Merry Christmas” as scored by John Williams for Home Alone || Instrumental (first 40 seconds)

Dylan sprints to the stage and grabs the bag of decorations. Then he takes Asher’s outstretched hand, the two of them hitting the lights and dashing out of the auditorium as the music once again swells to accent their frantic travel.

EXT. NEW YORK STREETS - NIGHT

One more sequence of the two of them racing through the snowy streets on Dylan’s skateboard graces the screen, Asher still holding on for dear life. Snow continues to fall in flurries around them, as the soothing tones of Hugh Martin float in…

INT. LUCAS’S APARTMENT - LIVING AREA - NIGHT

Song Cue ♫ ♪ “Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas” as performed by Hugh Martin for Home Alone || Instrumental

Given that we’ve seen the arrival before, we know how that bit goes. Instead, we jump to the party in full swing, Jade and Jeff focused on decorating the tiny tree while Dave chats with GRACE FRIAR in the background.

Nate passes Asher seated in front of the couch, giving him a pat on the shoulder and sharing props for pulling everything off. Asher nods, accepting the praise.

Dylan appears next to him a moment later, plopping down with a sigh and a plate of holiday treats. He hands one of the cookies to Asher and throws an arm around his shoulder, pulling him close. Even though their appearance feels more worn and ragged than the first time we saw them arrive to this party, it’s evident how warm and happy they are.

Dylan lightly pokes Asher in the ribs, asking if he has any idea how proud of him he is. Asher kind of brushes him off, but Dylan isn’t letting him shirk the compliments.

Dylan: I mean it. I know we did a lot of wacky stuff today, a lot of which you weren’t exactly comfortable with. I mean, we broke into the school. And you went up in the catwalk, dude.

Asher: Trying to forget those details, yeah.

Dylan: Well, I’m never going to forget it. And you know, everything you’ve already given to help Lucas… just proves what a good friend you are. I’m proud I get to call you that… [ another nudge ] and more.

Asher grows shy at the sincerity, lightly nudging him back. But he decides he has something to say too, holding Dylan’s hand that’s draped over his shoulder.

Asher: Well, you know, the only reason we did any of it was because of you. [ off Dylan’s dismissive shrug ] I’m serious. All of it was your idea, and every time we hit a road block you were the one who found a solution. It was your loyalty that motivated you to suggest we give it a shot in the first place.

Dylan’s turn to be bashful -- something only Asher Garcia can really accomplish. He dips his head down, trying to hold back his smile. Asher waits for him to meet his eyes again.

Asher: You never lose faith. That’s one of my favorite things about you. [ a beat ] That’s why I love you.

After a moment, Dylan breaks into a soft beam. He leans forward and gives him a peck on the cheek, Asher grinning and turning it into a quick kiss on the lips.

They pull back as Lucas enters the frame, plopping down on the floor next to them in front of his mom on the couch. He offers them something from his own plate which they eagerly take, the three of them engaging in easy conversation. Sharing the holiday together, bringing brightness to their best friend’s life, who they worked so hard to pull this off for.

And from how cozy and loving the Friar apartment suddenly feels, clearly that effort is always worth it.

END OF SPECIAL.

Song Cue ♫ ♪ “We Wish You a Merry Christmas” as performed by John Denver & The Muppets || Performed by Asher Garcia, Dylan Orlando, Nate Martinez, Jade Beamon, Dave Williams, and Jeff Monroe

To close out the special and accompany the credits, our six supporting technicians close out with this silly classic. They’re all wearing cute holiday sweaters, Dave has some Rudolph antlers. Dylan is wearing garland like a scarf again, and plays the lead guitar. The jokes and interjections are more suited to their characters than Muppets version, although Dave takes the “Animal” bit and gets too excited and starts shouting about not going so Nate has to bring him back to Earth.

We wish you an ambitious merry Christmas, and a happy techie New Year!

#S2 #S2DS #techie crew #dylan x asher #:') the most wonderful time of year huh...#episodes

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