TVMigraine

[Tracey is sat on the curb of the pavement opposite from the college at the end of the day, holding onto a sketchbook and looking over it. She’s quickly looking between it and her sketchpad, comparing a drawing of the college pulsing with lightning and the Storm above it with the college itself as crowds of people start walking home. She pulls out a purple pencil and sketches a bolt of lightning across the building as she hears an incoming conversation through the crowd.] George: Everyone going to the thing tomorrow? Talia:  I don’t know if I’m going to, I’m not used to people like that.  [Tracey looks up and acros

[Tracey is stood in a near empty art class, facing a large black canvas. The classroom is quite bare with a dozen easels forming a circle in the centre of the room. Overall the room is pale blue with a large window in the roof above them that lights up the room. Some art pieces are displayed across the room, mostly composed of portraits and images of large landscapes. In the centre of the room is an older man, mid-sixties, bald with a large white beard wearing a blue button shirt and black trousers that are both covered in paint. Tracey winces a bit in the room, hearing scattered mumbling echo painfully through her head. She glances to her si

[A month later, now October, Tracey is stood facing the mirror in the college toilets. She’s wearing a sleeveless shirt and jeans, nothing entirely stand out, along with a brown bag flung over her shoulder. The bathroom is empty, the light bulb buzzing above her. She nods to herself before opening up her bag and pulling out a large roll of tape. She turns around in the mirror and watches as a small hairless tail, no longer than a few inches, slowly pokes out of her back. Outside of the room, Chelsea perks up.] Chelsea: [muffled] Are you okay? Tracey: I’m fine! I’m fine, just… hold on.  [Tracey pulls a strip of tape

[Gary is on the floor with his eyes closed, breathing very quickly in a panic. The corridor is quiet, with only Humphrey stood above Gary and watching him. After a few seconds, Gary stops panicking and his breathing steadys, as he slowly opens up his eyes. He sees Humphrey stood above him, looking down at him with a smile on his face and his hands in his pockets.] Humphrey: You passed.  [Humphrey turns and heads into the living room, Gary laying on the floor in confusion. He sits up, coughing a bit as he looks to the living room.] Gary:  Wha… what?  [Gary gets onto his feet, limping a bit into the living room. Humphrey is sat back

[Marshall goes out the front of the hotel into the carpark, seeing the van parked there with “Istanbul, not Constantinople” blasting out of it. The van is new and a dark blue colour, looking clean. Marshall walks around the front of the van to see Alice bobbing her head along to the muffled music inside. He knocks on the door a few times to catch her attention, Alice quickly turning down the volume and opening the door.] Alice:  Hey. Marshall: Talk. Now.  [She sighs as Marshall gets into the car, turning the music off entirely.] Alice:  [nervous] Okay then. Marshall: You were right. Alice:  I… wait, I was what now? M

[Marshall is sat in Humphrey’s hotel room on the bed, visibly upset. The room is empty of Humphrey’s possessions, feeling empty just for that. Marshall is sat holding onto his mobile phone, waiting for a few moments. Almost as soon as the phone starts to ring, Marshall picks up.] Marshall: [concerned] Humphrey?  [There’s silence on the other end for a few moments.] Humphrey: Hi again Marshall.  [Marshall gives a sigh of relief, getting to his feet.] Marshall: You should’ve called sooner, I was worried. Humphrey: I’m sorry, I just… I feel as though I didn’t have the guts to. I’m at the tr

[Dumpty stands at one end of the kitchen, up straight and focused. Gary stands on the other end, holding a full kettle and a kitchen knife. He’s panicking, taking deep breaths as he tries to stare down Dumpty.] Dumpty: Are you sure that this is what you want to do? Gary:  [quickly] Yes. It is.  [Dumpty looks at him straight, taking a single step forward. Gary backs up slightly, raising the knife towards him. Dumpty chuckles a bit.] Dumpty: Promise me that you’ll fight as hard as you can. Gary:  [angry] Why the  hell should it matter? Dumpty: You know why.  [Gary takes a deep breath, before nodding.] Dumpty: Excellent.

[Gary and Humphrey are sat in Gary’s living room. The room is a deep orange with a lit fireplace and large television above it. Two pillowed chairs are there facing between the two, both green and rounded in designs. There’s a glass coffee table between them, with a single cup of coffee on it. The lights are on, but the room still feels dim with an orange glow and the curtains are drawn shut. Gary is visibly nervous, tapping his fingers against the back of his other hand, watching as Humphrey picks up the cup of coffee and takes a drink. They both make eye contact as Humphrey pulls away slightly.] Humphrey: So I have come to a de

[Humphrey walks back over to Gary on the road, still cuddling the large toy lion, sitting down next to him and patting him on the shoulder. Gary turns to him, as Humphrey hands his phone back to him.] Humphrey: I have to say… you and your dad have more in common than I thought. Gary:  Should I be worried about that or not? Humphrey: Not at all, believe me!  [Gary nods a little as he takes the phone and pocketing it.] Humphrey: Your father isn’t a bad person, Mr. Gray. Clumsy and perhaps less than perfect, but what parent isn’t?  [Gary doesn’t look to Humphrey, who frowns.] Humphrey: He can do better if you giv

[Humphrey stands behind a wall, almost hiding from Gary as he makes a call on Gary’s phone. He patiently waits as the phone rings, glancing back over at Gary for a moment and seeing him cuddling the toy lion. He smiles a little bit at him. Suddenly the voice on the phone picks up. Gary’s father has a rather deep voice but speaks slowly. He sounds very tired.] Marcus: [groggy] Hello? Gary? Humphrey: Hello! Hello, am I right in believing that this is Mr. Marcus Gray? I believe that’s what I read. Marcus: [groggy] Um… it is. Who is this? Why are you on my son’s phone? Humphrey: Oh, that’s quite simple. My