Next Morning – Drake's Flat
The golden light of Sunday morning spilled through the window blinds, warming the room with a soft glow. The flat was filled with the low hum of a morning playlist and the smell of coffee.
Drake was already dressed in a casual black hoodie and jeans, sipping his coffee while checking his watch.
Drake (calling out):
"Caleb! Hurry up man, you're slower than a sloth on vacation."
From the other room, Caleb's voice echoed, slightly muffled:
Caleb:
"Excuse me! Greatness takes time. Unlike you, I actually comb my hair."
Drake rolled his eyes and smirked.
Drake:
"You comb your hair for Sunday breakfast? Who are you meeting, Beyoncé?"
Just then Caleb walked out in a floral shirt, ripped jeans, and white sneakers—posing like a fashion icon.
Caleb:
"Maybe I am. Or maybe I just believe in dressing for the vibe. Unlike someone who dresses like he's going to fight a hoodie monster."
Drake shook his head, chuckling.
Drake:
"You look like a coconut vendor in Goa, bro."
Caleb:
"And you look like sadness in human form."
They both burst into laughter.
Drake:
"Okay drama king, let's go. Sunday is funday, and I need waffles."
Caleb:
"Waffles and wisdom, bro.That's the plan."
They grabbed their phones, Caleb did a dramatic finger snap, and they walked out like it was a buddy movie intro.
Drake:
"Wait—did you turn off the stove?"
Caleb (suddenly freezing):
"...Did I even use the stove?"
They both paused. Then ran back in.
Drake:
"Sunday funday, but not Sunday fire-day".
While Drake waited for caleb, in his usual "I'm-too-cool" mode, shut the door behind him with a loud THUD—loud enough to scare pigeons three floors down.
Drake (wincing):
"Bro! You trying to knock the whole building down or what?"
Caleb (shrugging):
"I don't do anything halfway, man."
Drake:
"Yeah, including causing earthquakes."
Cut to Inside the Flat
The room is calm… except for Lucas, who is curled up on the couch with a blanket half on and hair in chaos. At the sound of the door slam, he stirred, eyes half-closed, mumbling into the pillow:
Lucas (groggy, eyes still closed):
"Tell the earthquake I'm not ready for school yet… five more minutes"
He shifted a bit, then sat up suddenly, hair a full mess.
Lucas (confused):
"Wait… what day is it? Who slammed the door? Are we under attack?"
He looked around dramatically, found no threat, and flopped back down.
Lucas (grumbling):
"If Caleb's outside, the sun's probably crying too."
Cut back to Outside
Caleb (laughing):
"Bet Lucas thought there was a zombie apocalypse or something."
Drake (smirking):
"Don't worry. He'll go back to sleep pretending the couch is his bunker."
They hopped into the car and revved the engine.
Caleb:
"Let's hit the best cafe. My stomach's singing sad love songs."
Drake:
"Your stomach needs a Grammy then. Let's go."
And with that, the car pulled away, leaving behind one chaotic flat.
Scene: Hazel's Room — Morning Light Filters Through the Window
The floor is a mess of clothes, books, and open bags. Hazel is hurriedly stuffing things into her suitcase while Ethan lounges on her bed, tossing random items in just to "help."
Ethan (holding up a pink sock):
"Okay but seriously, do you need this lonely sock? Planning to start a one-legged sock trend?"
Hazel (laughing):
"Give me that! That's part of my sleeping outfit, thank you very much."
Ethan (mock horror):
"You're a monster. Just like your aunty."
Hazel:
"Don't even say that word. Today is freedom day. I'm escaping from that haunted house of rules and insults."
Ethan (dramatic):
"Blessed be the day! May angels sing and flowers bloom in your path!"
Hazel (grinning):
"You're so dramatic."
Ethan:
"Of course I am. But also, I'm proud of you, you know? When I first met you, you were all 'silent and mysterious.' Now look at you—laughing, packing, escaping. You've come a long way."
Hazel (smiling softly):
"Yeah, well… thanks to you. You never shut up until I said something."
Ethan:
"And I still won't. So don't get used to the peace and quiet."
He tosses a hairbrush into her bag with a smirk.
Hazel:
"That's my toothbrush, genius."
Ethan (wide-eyed):
"Well… good luck brushing your hair with minty freshness."
They both burst out laughing.
Hazel (zipping up her bag):
"Let's get out of here before she wakes up and gives me one last guilt trip."
Ethan (saluting):
"Operation Hazel Escape is a go. Let's roll."
And with one last glance around, Hazel grabs her bag, takes a deep breath, and walks out with Ethan by her side — free, smiling, and ready for whatever comes next.
Scene: Outside Everlight Heights — Late Morning
The car rolls to a slow stop in front of Everlight Heights, a sleek modern apartment complex with soft grey walls, tall glass windows, and a peaceful vibe. Ethan pulls the car into the visitor's parking and leans back with a sigh of victory.
Ethan (grinning):
"Well, we've officially escaped the haunted mansion. How do you feel, Miss Knight?"
Hazel (stretching her arms):
"Like a bird out of a cage. I could cry tears of freedom."
She unbuckles and hops out of the car, holding a small bag in one hand and her phone in the other. She checks her phone screen.
Hazel:
"Room number... 702B."
Ethan (mocking a fancy accent):
"Ooooh, 702B. That even sounds luxurious."
Hazel (rolling her eyes):
"Stop it. Help me carry this bag instead, Mr. Comedian."
They walk toward the entrance, sunlight casting soft shadows on the pavement. Ethan grabs her bigger bag from the backseat and follows her to the elevator. Inside, Hazel presses the button for the 7th floor.
Ethan (looking around):
"Man, this place is quiet. It's like no one under 30 lives here."
Hazel:
"Perfect. No nosy neighbors. No yelling aunties. Just peace, finally."
The elevator dings softly as they reach the 7th floor. They step out into a clean, plant-lined hallway. Hazel walks ahead, checking door numbers.
Hazel (counting under her breath):
"698A... 700... ah, 702B."
She stops in front of a pale wooden door with a brass handle and a tiny nameplate that simply says "Reserved."
Ethan:
"This it?"
Hazel (nods):
"This is it."
She unlocks the door with the key she was given and pushes it open. Warm light pours into the flat through the sheer curtains. It's simple and cozy—cream walls, wooden floors, a small balcony with a city view, and untouched furniture waiting to be claimed.
Hazel (smiling to herself):
"Wow… this doesn't feel real."
Ethan (dropping the bag):
"It's real, alright. Your first place. Your space. No more walking on eggshells."
Hazel walks in slowly, touching the back of the couch, then walking over to open the balcony doors and feel the breeze.
Hazel:
"Yeah… this is mine now."
Ethan (leaning against the doorframe):
"Feels like the start of something, huh?"
Hazel (turning back to him with a soft smile):
"Yeah. Finally."