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                   THE FUTURE LIFE OF RYAN HADLEY - “Pilot”
                          
       
                            TEASER

FADE IN:

INT.
METROPOLITAN MUSEUM OF ART - GALLERY - DAY

A pair of sensible brown work heels sit empty on a deep pile carpet.  Next to
them, ten neatly painted toes wriggle into the carpet as though digging into a
patch of grass.

The toes belong to a young woman, RYAN HADLEY (25), sitting on a bench.  Her long
brown hair is pulled back in a sensible work ponytail, the ponytail, in turn, is
draped over a sensible work dress.  Beside her on the bench is a cardboard box;
office supplies and knickknacks spill out over the edge.

Anselm Kiefer’s massive work “Bohemia Lies by the Sea” is on the wall before her
-- so big that she seems to be sitting in the field of poppies and waiting, with
her box, for someone to happen by on the dirt road and pick her up.

A cell phone RINGS.

A MET SECURITY OFFICER gives Ryan a dirty look.
                           
                           RYAN
              Oh, God.  I know.  I’m sorry!

Ryan slips on her shoes, grabs her box of stuff, and rushes out of the gallery.

INT. METROPOLITAN MUSEUM OF ART - GREAT HALL - DAY

Ryan plods through the Great Hall, dodges tourists while desperately trying to
silence her cell phone -- somewhere in the very deepest recesses of the cardboard
box.

EXT. METROPOLITAN MUSEUM OF ART - DAY

Ryan bursts out into the NOISE and bustle of a bright, beautiful day in
Manhattan.  She finds her cell phone.

                           RYAN
                        (to phone)
              Hi...I’m two blocks away.  Get a
              pitcher, I got fired today.

PULL BACK to reveal how small Ryan is against the facade of this massive museum,
this symbol of New York.

                                                           
END OF TEASER
                          ACT ONE

INT. THE GAF - NIGHT

It’s a real, old-fashioned New York dive -- small, dark, and homey.  The bar’s
most modern feature is a jukebox.  

A dainty, prim, adorable little blonde, AUDREY COULSON (25) stands at the bar.  
Behind the bar is the bedraggled BILL (mid-60’s), a Dublin native with thick
brogue. Between them is a pitcher of beer.

                          AUDREY
              Don’t give me that, Bill.

                           BILL
              Come on, Audrey, I just hired two
              new guys.

                          AUDREY
              Which means that you’re busy.
              Four-twenty-five.

                           BILL
              Five-seventy-five.

                          AUDREY
              Five dollars, and that’s my last offer.

Bill stares at Audrey, appraising her.  She doesn’t flinch.

                           BILL
              Fine.

Audrey smiles in victory, slaps a five dollar bill on the bar, and walks away with
her pitcher and a stack of glasses.

Audrey sits at a table with Ryan and a beautiful redhead in a skin-tight -- yet
oddly conservative -- gray suit, VERONICA WHEATLEY (25).

                           RYAN
I really should have seen it coming.  Last week the CFO asked me to proofread his
résumé.

                          AUDREY
              I don’t understand what happened.

                           RYAN
              It’s an internet dog food company.  
              Apparently dogs have stopped shopping
              online in these tense economic times.
                       (beat)
              You know what bothers me the most?  
              It’s not so much the getting laid off.  
              As I walked out of that stupid cubicle
              I realized that I’d been working in that
              place for four years.  Four years!

                         VERONICA
              It’s not that long.

Ryan grabs a slim, rusty metal object from her cardboard box and slaps it on the
table.

                           RYAN
              My business card holder.

Veronica tries to open it.  It won’t budge.

                           RYAN (CONT’D)
              Rusted shut.  And to top it all off I
              have rent due in two weeks and about
              ten dollars and sixty cents in the bank.  
              How do I even withdraw sixty cents?

                          AUDREY
              You have to go to the teller.

                           RYAN
              That’s going to be embarrassing.

A dark, handsome WILL MONROE (25) enters the bar while taking off his tie.  He
sits next to Veronica, across from Ryan and Audrey.

                           RYAN (CONT’D)
              Hey, don’t I know you?  Will...
              something?  Didn’t we used to work
              together?

                           WILL
              Oh, yeah, Ryan Hadley, right?  Wasn’t
              that this morning?  In fact, I know it
              was, because since you left I had to
              start doing actual work.
                      (beat)
              How are you?  You going to be okay?

                           RYAN
              Did you know I was there for four years?  
              Four years!
                      (changes subject)
              How bad was it?  Did they finally get rid
              of that guy in customer service who
              smells like patchouli and passes out the
              Rasta flyers at Christmas?

Will suddenly looks nervous.  He focuses on pouring himself a beer.  He can’t
quite look Ryan in the eye.

                           WILL
              No.

                           RYAN
              Come on, give me all the dirty details.  
              Oh, no.  You didn’t get a pink slip, too?
              
                           WILL
              No.

Will studies the graffiti on the table.

                           RYAN
              Will?  What’s wrong?  Who else got laid
              off?  Somebody we like?

                           WILL
              No one.

                           RYAN
              I’m sorry?

                           WILL
              Nobody else got laid off.

                           RYAN
              I don’t understand.
                              
                           WILL
              It was just you.  You were the only one.

Ryan is stunned, humiliated, and confused.  Her face reddens, her breathing
becomes a bit more rapid.  She struggles to control her emotions, plasters on a
fake smile.
                      
                           RYAN
              You know more.  Tell me.

                           WILL
              After you left I went and flirted with
              Laurie Sims in HR.  They needed to save
              thirty-grand.  That’s how much the
              budget was off in our department.  They
              had to get thirty-grand off the books
              and--

                           RYAN
              I’m the thirty they cut?

Ryan struggles to keep her emotions in check.  She’s about to cry, but instead
makes a sort of whimpering, choking noise then tries to cover it with a laugh.

                          AUDREY
              Are you all right?

                           RYAN
              Oh, sure.  Sure.
              (beat)
              Why me?

                           WILL
              Laurie said that it came down to you
              and some girl named Renee.  The boss
              thought Renee contributed more or
              something ridiculous.  I’ve never even
              heard of Renee--
      
                           RYAN
              I’m Renee.

They don’t understand.  Ryan stares off into space.

                           RYAN (CONT’D)
              When I wear my hair down he calls me
              Renee.  When it’s in a ponytail he calls
              me Ryan.

Ryan’s breathing becomes erratic.

                         VERONICA
              Your boss didn’t know your name?

                           RYAN
              It never came up.

Ryan’s voice cracks, she’s having trouble holding herself together.  
Audrey scoots out of the booth and forces Ryan to stand near the open front door.  

                         VERONICA
                        (to Will)
              A tip for the future, when in doubt
              treat “why me” as a rhetorical question.

Ryan fans herself with a soggy paper coaster and paces.

                           RYAN
              I mean... but, it’s just... they didn’t
              ask us to print on both sides of the
              copy paper first?  They didn’t cancel
              free bagel Fridays?  

Ryan goes stock still.

                           RYAN (CONT’D)
              Wait, this morning there were cupcakes
              and donuts for that receptionist -- Hannah.  
              For her birthday.  

Ryan’s face goes slack as the full meaning of this hits her.

                           RYAN (CONT’D)
              Oh my God, they cut me before they cut
              cupcakes.

Ryan finds it hard to catch her breath.  She trembles.

                         VERONICA
              Calm down, Ryan.  Why don’t you sit?

                           RYAN
              Sit?  Do you understand what happened
              today?  Today I got fired from my job
              of four years... in IT at an internet
              dog food company.  Dog food!  

The few customers in the bar not previously in on the conversation now are --
including Bill who watches intently.

                           RYAN (CONT’D)
              I am a twenty-five year old jobless
              person who, on a list of all the
              important things in the world, ranks
              somewhere below copy paper and cupcakes!
                      (beat)
              I am less valuable to the team than an
              imaginary person!

Ryan sinks into a nearby chair, though she seems as surprised by this turn of
events as her friends are.  They pop up and surround her.  

Veronica takes up the fanning.  Will motions to Bill for help of some kind.  
Audrey smooths the hair from Ryan’s now glistening face.

Ryan can’t help it now, her emotions spill out all over the place willy-nilly.

                           RYAN (CONT’D)
              I go from my apartment, which -- I
              looked it up -- prisoners are actually
              required to have more square footage.  
              To that cubicle, to the subway and back
              to the apartment.  The same thing, everyday
              for four years.  Four years!  I have these
              brown shoes and that stupid bag with a pile
              of meaningless work papers and a magazine
              with pictures of places I’ll never go.
                      (beat)
              This is not what I wanted to be.   

Bill rushes over with a drink and a handful of little packets.

                         VERONICA
              What is that?

                           BILL
              Harvey Wallbanger.

                         VERONICA
              And those?

                           BILL
              Moist towelettes.

Veronica goes for the Harvey Wallbanger and force-feeds it to Ryan.

                           RYAN
              I wanted to be savvy and sophisticated.  
              When I came to New York I was going to be
              that girl, you know?  The one with the great
              job, and the amazing apartment.
                      (beat)
              But look at me!  I’m still paying off my
              college degree and I’m not even good enough
              to fix computers that sell dog food!  I am
              less important than pink frosting!

                         VERONICA
              It’s not too late.  Since forty became the
              new thirty and thirty became the new twenty...
              that makes us the new fetus.  We’ve got
              plenty of time.

Audrey looks up, does the math in her head.

                          AUDREY
              Doesn’t that make us the new fifteen?

                         VERONICA
              Work with me here.
                      (to Ryan)
              Think of this as a clean slate.  A fresh
              start.  What do you want to do instead of
              dog food?

                           RYAN
              I want to do something I like.  And not
              in fluorescent lighting.  There are things
              I can do, right?  Things that don’t involve
              animal digestion?

Audrey and Veronica nod “yes” to her.

                           RYAN (CONT’D)
              You know what I want?  I want to be bold!  
              I want to be the kind of girl who knows
              manicures and the Mets.  I want to be the
              girl who knows the guy who can get advanced
              tickets to Shakespeare in the Park.

                          AUDREY
              That’s just impossible.

                           RYAN
              I want a doorman.  And when I have a
              doorman I want him to like me so much that
              he does me extra favors.  I want to read
              the New York Times every day.

Will signals to Bill for something to write on.  Bill gets a flattened beer box
and hands it to Audrey who manages to dig a pen out of her purse.  She immediately
begins taking notes.

                           RYAN (CONT’D)
              I want to see every piece of art at The Met.  
              I want to own a pair of diamond earrings --
              that I buy myself.  I want to kiss a movie
              star.  I want to learn how to ride a horse
              and paint a painting.

Audrey writes frenetically as Ryan dictates.

                           RYAN (CONT’D)
              I want to...

Ryan continues to list off her dreams.
                                                           
END OF ACT ONE
                         ACT TWO

INT. RYAN’S APARTMENT - DAY

It’s your classic New York City starter apartment -- a charming prewar closet
furnished entirely with multi-purpose furniture.  Ryan, Audrey, and Veronica
finish up egg sandwiches at the dining table-slash-desk.

Above the table is a girly pin-board covered in little slips of paper and
pictures.  At the top is a piece of cardboard with the words “The Future Life of
Ryan Hadley” scrawled on it.

                           RYAN
              Thanks for bringing breakfast over guys,
              but I’m really okay.  These last three
              days have been amazing.  Do you know how
              it feels to actually like the direction
              your life is headed?  

Audrey and Veronica self-consciously nod “yes”.

                           RYAN (CONT’D)
              Why didn’t you tell me about this before?

                          AUDREY
              Are you sure you don’t want me to call in
              sick?  We could spend all afternoon at
              the Met --

                         VERONICA
              Actually, I was hoping Ryan could come
              over later and help me move.

                           RYAN
              Move?

                          AUDREY
              No!

                         VERONICA
              I’m moving back in with my parents.  I
              can’t afford the loft anymore.  No
              bonuses on Wall Street this year --
              unless you personally destroy the company.  
              Unfortunately, I’ve discovered a huge gap
              in my education.  I only learned how to
              make companies succeed... not as profitable
              as it used to be.

                           RYAN
              Your loft was my vacation home.  Where are
              we going to have movie night?

                          AUDREY
              And laundry night?

                           RYAN
              And pretend we’re rich night?

                         VERONICA
              Thanks for the concern, but I’ll be fine.  
              Except for the humiliation, my brother, and
              my mother I should be just fine.

                          AUDREY
              Oh!

Audrey and Ryan hug Veronica.

                           RYAN
              Count me in for anything you need.

Audrey, Veronica, and Ryan head out of the apartment.

INT. RYAN’S APARTMENT BUILDING - STAIRWELL/LOBBY - DAY

Ryan, Audrey, and Veronica descend the last few steps into the lobby.

                         VERONICA
              It’s only temporary.  I’m not even
              redecorating my old room.

A CUTE NEIGHBOR GUY (late 20’s) passes them on his way up the stairs.  He carries
a newspaper folded under his arm.

Cute Neighbor Guy and Ryan lock eyes.  He silently flirts with her, and she does
her best to respond appropriately -- while blushing.

Audrey looks to Ryan and mouths, “He’s Cute!”  Ryan nods in agreement.  Veronica
shrugs her shoulders like “not bad, I guess.”  

                           RYAN
              Oh, my God.  It’s not here again!

                          AUDREY
              What?

Ryan points down at a bench where a half-dozen New York Times newspapers lay in a
neat little row.  There’s a conspicuous empty space where one other paper should
be.

                           RYAN
              My New York Times.

                          AUDREY
              You know you can get the movie listings
              online for free.

                           RYAN
              No, it’s on my list.  It’s about
              personal growth.  I want to stay
              apprised of world events.  Like, do you
              know what’s going on in Albania right now?

                         VERONICA
              No.

                           RYAN
              Well, either do I, my paper hasn’t come
              yet.  I called them yesterday and they
              said they’ve been delivering it.  But it’s
              not here... again.

                         VERONICA
              It’s probably being stolen.

                          AUDREY
              Ooh!

Audrey peers around and over her shoulders, revels in the possibility of a mystery.

                          AUDREY (CONT’D)
              Maybe you could get that cute guy to
              protect you from the thief.

                           RYAN
              Who steals newspaper?

                          AUDREY
                     (matter-of-fact)
              Eco-terrorists.  

Ryan and Veronica can only stare at her, bemused.  Audrey nods like she’s just
divulged something of major importance.

INT. THE WHEATLEY’S APARTMENT BUILDING - HALLWAY - DAY

Ryan and Veronica carry boxes through the hall.

                         VERONICA
              You know, before she made irritating
              people a full-time job, my mom was a
              headhunter.  She could probably help you
              find a new job.

                           RYAN
              You don’t think she’d mind?

                         VERONICA
              Are you kidding?  She’d love it.  And it
              might just keep her off my back.

                           RYAN
              Come on, she’s not that bad.

                         VERONICA
              She made a swear jar.  I already owe her
              twelve dollars and thirty-five cents.

                           RYAN
              My God, how much is a swear?

                         VERONICA
              Ten cents, but if you put a ‘mother’ in
              front of it it’s twenty-five.

                           RYAN
              Ah.

INT. THE WHEATLEY’S APARTMENT - LIVING ROOM - DAY

The front door to the apartment swings open and a joyously plump woman in a
diaphanous brightly-colored kaftan, MRS. WHEATLEY (late 50’s) immediately embraces
Ryan.  A moving box gets wedged between them.

                      MRS. WHEATLEY
              Ryan!  What a delight!  Would you care
              for some milk and cookies, dear?

Veronica pushes her way in, carrying a massive moving box.

                         VERONICA
              No, she wouldn’t.

                           RYAN
              Sure!

Mrs. Wheatley floats out of the room.

Veronica drops her box and notices a STRANGE GUY (mid-20’s) dressed in all black.  
He stands.

                        STRANGE GUY
              You must be Veronica.        

                         VERONICA
              Yes.  And who might you be?

                        STRANGE GUY
              I’m West.  Your mother thought you
              and I--

Veronica silences him with a wave of her hand.

                         VERONICA
              West, what is it you do?  For a living?

He smiles a wide, proud grin.  Then, he mimes that he’s trapped in a box.

Veronica can only stare in exasperation.

West mimes that he’s climbing a rope.

Ryan is stupefied.

West mimes that he’s pulling something heavy.

INT. THE WHEATLEY’S APARTMENT - VERONICA’S BEDROOM - DAY

It looks as though Barbie’s Dreamhouse exploded and all of the flowery, ruffly,
pink shrapnel were pasted all over the walls.
Veronica unpacks and talks to herself.

                         VERONICA
              It’s only temporary, right?  She has to
              learn that I’m an adult and I have to
              not kill her.  Simple.

Ryan sets down her chocolate chip cookie and milk.

                           RYAN
              So, where you going on your date?

Ryan mimes the universal charades symbol for “movie”.

                           RYAN (CONT’D)
              And then maybe...

She mimes drinking and getting tipsy.

                           RYAN (CONT’D)
              And if you’re lucky a little...

She turns around and mimes a make-out session.

                         VERONICA
              Oh, shut up.  

Ryan mimes locking her lips shut and throwing away the key.

INT. WHEATLEY APARTMENT - LIVING ROOM - DAY

Ryan and Mrs. Wheatley sit on the deep, cozy sofa.  Mrs. Wheatley takes notes.

                           RYAN
              Well, I’m trying to be more... bold.

Ryan sinks deep into the sofa, and with her little cup of tea balanced on her
knees she looks like a little girl.

                      MRS. WHEATLEY
              Uh, huh.

                           RYAN
              And I’ve come to the decision that I
              don’t really want a job that involves
              fluorescent lighting... or cubicles.

Mrs. Wheatley writes this down.

                           RYAN (CONT’D)
              Or an office.

Mrs. Wheatley continues to jot.

                           RYAN (CONT’D)
              Or anything like free bagel Fridays.

Mrs. Wheatley stops writing.

                      MRS. WHEATLEY
              Prior to this though, dear, was it your
              goal to be the head of the IT department,
              or the head of the whole dog food company?

                           RYAN
              Well, actually my goal was to... well,
              pay my rent.  And then there was food,
              which was also important.  And--

                      MRS. WHEATLEY
                       (concerned)
              Oh, I see.

Mrs. Wheatley puts her note pad down and puts a motherly hand on Ryan’s knee.

                      MRS. WHEATLEY (CONT’D)
              I’m going to tell you something I have
              always told my children and my clients.  
              Your dreams don’t get delivered by UPS.  
              You have to go out and pick them up.  
              That means you have to assert yourself,
              believe in yourself, and most importantly
              you have to know what you want.  You seem
              to have a good handle on what you don’t
              want, dear, but...  
                      (beat)
              Do you know what you do want?

Ryan’s only answer is a glazed over look of confusion with just a dash of panic.

INT. RYAN’S APARTMENT BUILDING - LOBBY - NIGHT

Ryan enters the building, still a bit dazed and confused from her conversation
with Mrs. Wheatley.

She bumps into Cute Neighbor Guy as he’s folding a newspaper and dropping it on
the top of the building's recycling bin.

                           RYAN
              Oh, sorry.

                      CUTE NEIGHBOR GUY
              No problem.  You’re 5B right?

Ryan blushes and involuntarily bats her eyelashes.

                           RYAN
              Yep, that’s me.

                      CUTE NEIGHBOR GUY
              I’m 2B, nice to meet you.
They shake hands.

                      CUTE NEIGHBOR GUY (CONT’D)
              See you around?
                           
                           RYAN
              Yeah.

Ryan nervously shuffles her feet and looks down.  As she does, she spots the label
on the paper Cute Neighbor Guy dropped in the bin.  It reads “Ryan Hadley, 207 E.
85th St., Apt 5B”.

Her jaw drops.  She stares after him as he exits the building.

                                                           
END OF ACT TWO
                          ACT THREE

INT. RYAN’S APARTMENT BUILDING - 2ND FLOOR HALLWAY - NIGHT

Ryan stands outside Cute Neighbor Guy’s door.  

                           RYAN
                        (to self)
              This is a test.  A test of your new
              resolve!  Be bold!

She writes a note on a pink pad shaped like a high heel.  It reads, “Dear 2B,
Please stop taking my New York Times.  Thank you very much, Ryan Hadley (5B)”.  As
she’s about to tape the note to his apartment door, it opens.  

Cute Neighbor Guy and Ryan stare at each other in surprise.

                           RYAN (CONT’D)
              Oh, hi.

Cute Neighbor Guy smiles charmingly.  Ryan crumples the little paper behind her
back.

                      CUTE NEIGHBOR GUY
              Hi.

Ryan opens her mouth to confront him about her newspaper but the words don’t come.

                           RYAN
              Um, have you, uh, seen a red umbrella
              anywhere?  I left it in the hallway to
              dry and it’s not there.

                      CUTE NEIGHBOR GUY
              A red umbrella?  No.  It’s raining pretty
              hard out, huh?  I don’t know about your
              umbrella, but I might have something...

He slips back into his apartment and comes back with two sections of the New York
Times.  He hands Ryan the classified section, and keeps the Style section for
himself.  He holds it over his head to demonstrate how to use it.

Ryan is speechless.

                      CUTE NEIGHBOR GUY (CONT’D)
              Well, good luck out there.  See you around.

Cute Neighbor Guy stands silently, awkwardly waiting for some response from Ryan.  
She’s like a statue -- stunned.

                      CUTE NEIGHBOR GUY (CONT’D)
              Gotta’ go.  So...

He heads down the steps, and leaves Ryan standing there befuddled.

INT. THE GAF - NIGHT

Ryan enters the bar dripping wet.  She stomps over to join Audrey and Veronica in
their usual booth.  As she sits, she slams the now wet section of the New York
Times on the table.

                         VERONICA
              Thank you, I’ve been needing a...
              (reads from paper)
              ...vintage, gently used back massager.

A screech from the sidewalk draws the girls’ attention.  Through the windows and
the open font door they see a white cargo van with no windows lurch to a stop
outside the bar.

The van’s sliding door opens violently.  Will tumbles out with a guitar case.  The
van zooms off before the door is completely shut again.

                         VERONICA (CONT’D)
              Looks like somebody paid the ransom.

Will, dressed for a gig with his band, shakes the rain off and settles in at the
table with the girls.

                          AUDREY
              Where’s the rest of the band?

                           WILL
              They’re all going to bed... with
              groupies.

                          AUDREY
              You’re the lead singer.

                           RYAN
              How do you not score?

                           WILL
                         (woeful)
              Morals.  Ethics.

                         VERONICA
              Pesky little bastards, aren’t they?

Will nods in agreement.  

                         VERONICA (CONT’D)
              Yeah.

                          AUDREY
              That bad at home, huh?

                         VERONICA
              Yesterday, she packed my lunch.  There
              was a heart-shaped bologna sandwich
              and a card that played her singing “You
              are My Sunshine.”

The table is silent, unsure how to respond.  Will spots the wet Times classified
section.

                           WILL
                        (sincere)
              Ooh, I could use a back massager.  And
              it’s only gently used.

The three girls look at him like he’s crazy.

                           WILL (CONT’D)
              What?

                           RYAN
              Okay, I have a question for you guys.  
              What would you do if someone in your
              building was stealing your newspaper?

                         VERONICA
              I knew it.

                           RYAN
              Yeah, the cute guy in 2B.

                          AUDREY
              Oh!  I’d definitely call the proper
              authorities.

                         VERONICA
              Where do we live, Mayberry?

                           WILL
              I’d probably write him a nasty note.

Ryan produces her pink high-heel note.

                           WILL (CONT’D)
              I don’t even need to read this.  
              Anything written on a pink high heel is
              not nasty enough.

                         VERONICA
              You know him pretty well?

                           RYAN
              We’ve flirted a couple of times.

                         VERONICA
              You liked him?

                           RYAN
              Yeah, he seemed sort of sweet and cute...

                         VERONICA
              Taze his ass.

Will and Audrey nod like, “Oh, yeah.  Do that.”

                           RYAN
              No, you know what?  I don’t need to
              resort to violence.  I should handle
              this civilly.  I am going to tell him
              who’s boss.  

                          AUDREY
              You’re bold!

                           RYAN
              That’s right.  I am going to request an
              apology.
                      (beat)
              The next time I run into him.

INT. RYAN’S APARTMENT BUILDING - LOBBY/STAIRWELL - NEXT DAY

Ryan shuffles through the lobby in her bathrobe and slippers, with a ponytail
mussed and matted from a night of sleep.

She checks for her paper, and again there’s nothing but a sad little space where
it should be.

She’s disappointed, but not so much about the paper.  By the anxious glances up
the stairs it appears that she’s mostly upset that she has to do something about
it.  Still, she tightens the belt on her bathrobe and stomps her little slippers
up the steps.

                           RYAN
                        (to self)
              It’s my paper!  It’s the principle!  
              It’s about personal growth!

INT. RYAN’S APARTMENT BUILDING - 2ND FLOOR HALLWAY - DAY

Ryan knocks on Cute Neighbor Guy’s door.

He opens the door and, for an instant, his face is flush with panic.  He quickly
covers with charm.

Ryan takes a deep breath and prepares to let him have it.  He cuts her off.

                      CUTE NEIGHBOR GUY
              Hey, if it isn’t 5B!  What can I do
              for you?  Oh, guess what... I think
              I accidentally got your paper this
              morning.

                           RYAN
              You did?

                      CUTE NEIGHBOR GUY
              Yeah, I can’t believe it.  I’m so sorry.

                           RYAN
              You are?

                      CUTE NEIGHBOR GUY
              Yeah, I’d love to make it up to you.  
              Are you free for a drink later?

Ryan self-consciously straightens her robe, and finger-combs her hair behind her
ears.  

                           RYAN
              I... okay.  Sure.

                      CUTE NEIGHBOR GUY
              Excellent.  I’ll meet you in the lobby
              at eight.

                           RYAN
              Okay.

                      CUTE NEIGHBOR GUY
              Great, see you then.

He shuts his door and leaves Ryan in the hallway a bit confused as to what just
happened.

                           RYAN
              My paper.

She puts her hand up to knock on the door, but can’t go through with it.

She chastises herself as she pads back up the stairs.

INT. WHEATLEY APARTMENT - MEDIA ROOM - NIGHT

Ryan, Audrey, and Veronica huddle around a coffee table and a giant bowl of
popcorn.  A romantic movie plays on the Wheatley’s big screen TV.

                           RYAN
                      (to Veronica)
              Will’s got his music.  Audrey’s got
              advertising.  You’ve got money... and
              making people cry.  I’ve got internet
              dog food.

                         VERONICA
              No, you’ve got something else.  You may
              not know it yet, but you’ve got something.

Ryan looks doubtful.  Audrey pats her hand.

                          AUDREY
              Everybody has something.  And nobody has
              dog food.  You just have to find out what
              your thing is.

Mrs. Wheatley walks in and delivers fancy beers on a fancy tray.

                      MRS. WHEATLEY
              Here girls, thought you might be thirsty!

Audrey and Ryan leap for the drinks, excited.

                      MRS. WHEATLEY (CONT’D)
              Now, Veronica.  About that subject we
              discussed--

Veronica stops her mother with a sharp wave of the hand.

                         VERONICA
              Okay.  Fine!  I’ll do it.  But only
              because I can’t stand to hear about
              it anymore!

                      MRS. WHEATLEY
              Wonderful.
              
                         VERONICA
              It is not wonderful!

                      MRS. WHEATLEY
              You don’t have to be so hostile.

                         VERONICA
              Whatever!  Can’t you see we’re watching
              a movie here?

Mrs. Wheatley slips out of the room.

                          AUDREY
                   (whispers - to Ryan)
              I don’t think I like movie night anymore.

EXT.
LINCOLN CENTER - DAMROSCH PARK - NIGHT

Live big band music fills the warm summer air outside Lincoln Center.  Veronica
and the mime, West, finish up a swing dance.  West guides her away from the crowd.

                         VERONICA
              No offense, but I’m surprised.  I’m
              actually having a good time.  I thought
              because of the... you know...
              (mimes being stuck in a box)
              I’d have to do all the talking.

West smiles sweetly at her.  She briefly smiles back, then goes stern.

                         VERONICA (CONT’D)
              But if you tell my mother about this...

She mimes tying a noose and hanging herself.

EXT. RYAN’S APARTMENT BUILDING - STOOP - NIGHT

Cute Neighbor Guy and Ryan stand on the stoop having clearly come from their
date.  They look awkwardly at each other, smiling.

                           RYAN
              Thanks for the drink.  It was nice.

                      CUTE NEIGHBOR GUY
              Anytime.

                           RYAN
              So, how do we do this since we both
              live in the same building?

                      CUTE NEIGHBOR GUY
              There’s only one way -- I walk you to
              your door.

                           RYAN
              That’s three flights out of your way.  

                      CUTE NEIGHBOR GUY
              I want to.

Ryan grins shyly and shrugs her shoulders.  She opens the main door to the
building.

INT. RYAN’S APARTMENT BUILDING - 5TH FLOOR HALLWAY - NIGHT

Ryan turns the key in her door, and turns back to Cute Neighbor Guy.

                           RYAN
              I have a bit of a confession to make.  
              When I first found out about the newspaper
              thing, the mix-up... I mean, I sort of
              thought you might be, well...

                      CUTE NEIGHBOR GUY
              A jerk?

Ryan shrugs her shoulders.

                      CUTE NEIGHBOR GUY (CONT’D)
              I hope you think differently now.

Ryan shrugs her shoulders again, this time while batting her eyelashes.

Cute Neighbor Guy leans in and gives her a soft, sweet kiss good night.

With a goofy grin on her face, Ryan slips into her apartment.

INT. RYAN’S APARTMENT - SAME

Ryan peeks through the peephole and watches Cute Neighbor Guy walk away.  She
smiles, pleasantly surprised.

INT. RYAN’S APARTMENT - THE NEXT DAY

Ryan is in her old bathrobe and slippers, but her ponytail is slick and groomed.  
She looks in the mirror and pinches some color into her cheeks, then applies a
thin coat of lip gloss.  She admires her reflection and exits the apartment.  

INT. RYAN’S APARTMENT BUILDING - 2ND FLOOR HALLWAY - SAME

Ryan passes Cute Neighbor Guy’s door on her way down the stairs.  She pauses and
smiles.

INT. RYAN’S APARTMENT BUILDING - LOBBY - SAME

Ryan’s giddy mood is obliterated the moment she gets a look at the bench with the
newspapers.  The little space where her paper should be is, once again, empty.

She is livid.  She stomps up the steps.

INT. RYAN’S APARTMENT BUILDING - 2ND FLOOR HALLWAY - SAME

Ryan pounds on Cute Neighbor Guy’s door like she’s trying to make a hole in it.
He answers.

                             RYAN
                           (angry)
              Accidentally take my paper again?  
              What is wrong with you?

                         CUTE NEIGHBOR GUY
              Don’t be mad.  I took it so you would
              have to come here and get it.

Ryan looks at him askance.  She wants to believe him.

                      CUTE NEIGHBOR GUY (CONT’D)
              But, it was a silly thing to do.  I’m
              sorry I upset you.  Here...

He hands her the paper.  She takes it, and for a second looks grateful and
embarrassed.

Then, she notices something about the paper.  Just above the fold on the front
page is a big, rectangular hole where an article used to be.

She holds it up and glares at him through the hole in the paper.

                             RYAN
              I can’t believe you!  You have been
              stealing my paper!  Even after you knew
              that I knew.
                  (groans)
              You walked me all the way up to my door!

                      CUTE NEIGHBOR GUY
              I didn’t think I’d have to come back down
              till morning.

Ryan is amazed at his audacity.  

                             RYAN
              Have you escaped from some asylum?

He stifles laughter.

                             RYAN (CONT’D)
              Oh, my God.  You picked me.  You picked me
              on purpose because you thought I was a
              pushover.  Didn’t you?  Answer me!

He shrugs his shoulders, looks a bit smug.

                             RYAN (CONT’D)
              Of course you thought I was a pushover!   
              I was a pushover!  I’ve been a pushover for
              most of my life.  I just let these things
              happen to me.

Ryan rolls up the newspaper in frustration.

                             RYAN (CONT’D)
              Well, let me tell you something, I am not a
              pushover anymore.  I have a list.  And,
              damnit, I’m a freaking New Yorker!

She winds up, swings, and whacks him with the newspaper square on the shoulder --
knocks him into the door frame.

                             RYAN (CONT’D)
              If you so much as think about taking my
              paper again I’ll come back here with a
              baseball bat.  And if you take a second
              glance at my paper in the lobby I’ll come
              back here with a crowbar.  And if you ever
              actually touch my paper again...

Ryan shoves the end of the rolled-up paper under his chin.

                             RYAN (CONT’D)
              ...may God help you.

Cute Neighbor Guy is petrified.

Ryan turns, smooths the paper out.  She folds it neatly in half and tucks it under
her arm.

She tightens the belt on her bathrobe, holds her head high, and marches up the
stairs.

EXT.
BATTERY PARK - DAY

Audrey and Veronica struggle, pulling at something on the ground below them off
screen.

                           VERONICA
              Are you sure about this?

                             RYAN (O.S.)
              It’s just...
              (struggles to speak)
              ..temporary.
              (groans a bit)
              I don’t know what I want to do.  I don’t
              know what my ‘thing’ is but I know that
              it’s somewhere on that list, and I’m going
              to find it.

Ryan’s hands appear.  Veronica and Audrey each grab one and pull.

CUT TO:

Ryan stands before them in a rubberized Statue of Liberty costume.  One arm is
full of flyers, her other hand holds a big light-up plastic torch.

Audrey and Veronica wave to Ryan as she waddles toward the Liberty Island Ferry.

                            AUDREY
              She seems happy.

                           VERONICA
              She sort of does, doesn’t she?

Ryan approaches a group of tourists.

                             RYAN
                        (to tourists)
              Come on you huddled masses!  Yearning to
              breathe free?  Take the ferry to Liberty
              Island!
                                                      
                                                         
END OF ACT THREE


Ryan sits with her morning coffee on the grand front steps of the Met.  She
blissfully soaks in the sun and reads a section of the New York Times.  The
remainder of the paper sits beside her.

Harried New Yorkers in their suits and sensible brown shoes pass by.

Just as a look of triumph and joy spreads across Ryan’s face, a gust of wind
blows.  The rest of Ryan’s paper floats into the air and right under the tires of
a yellow cab barrelling down Fifth Avenue.

Ryan nods with a sideways grin that says, “Yep, this is what it is to be Ryan
Hadley.”

FADE OUT.

                                                              
END OF SHOW
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Happiness Sold Separately - Libby Street
Happiness Sold Separately - Libby Street