FADE IN:

EXT. L.A. BALLET CONSERVATORY – NIGHT

A long, two-story building with windows stretching across the front and a sign that reads “Los Angeles Ballet Conservatory” in black. Cars pass by in a blur. Sounds fade into the distance.

INT. L.A. BALLET CONSERVATORY – NIGHT

AMY RUSSELL (17, stressed-looking, out of breath) falls out of a quadruple pirouette. The wood of her pointe shoes collides loudly with the floor.

AMY
Shit.

Amy runs a hand over her slicked-back hair. Sweat stains show through her black leotard. She steps back, eyes herself in the mirror. Then she preps again.

The first two rotations are elegant. The third is clean. But then – BAM! Amy lands roughly in fifth position.

AMY
Fuck!

Without giving herself time to breathe, Amy throws herself back into fourth position. She launches into the turn. Too much power, and this time, no grace. She falls sideways and crashes to the floor.

Amy flops onto her back. Her breaths are uneven. Finally, she rises to her feet. She grabs her bag from the corner of the room, then turns off the studio light.

INT. L.A. BALLET CONSERVATORY HALLWAY – NIGHT

Pale light. The walls are covered in old show posters: Sleeping Beauty, Swan Lake, La Esmeralda.

Amy stops at the end of the hall, where a flyer reads “Seniors – ROMEO AND JULIET auditions this weekend!

Performers will have the opportunity to be scouted by representatives from The American Ballet Theatre. Don’t be late!”

Amy stares longingly. Her cell phone BEEPS. She pulls it out. Notification from “Mom.” Amy sighs, then exits.

INT. AMY’S HOUSE – NIGHT

When Amy walks in, her mother, MARIA RUSSELL (45, in-shape, harsh) is sitting in the living room waiting.

MARIA
(disapprovingly) Amy? You’re back early.

AMY
Yeah, Miss Ashley had us doing straight run-throughs today in rehearsal. I tried to keep practicing, but I’m just…exhausted.

MARIA
(calmly)
Okay. So you feel good about it then?

AMY
What?

MARIA
You feel ready for your audition tomorrow, like you can compete against anyone? Even Georgia?

Amy looks away, bothered.

AMY
Obviously, I can compete against Georgia.

MARIA
I hope you at least figured out that turn, since it was giving you such a hard time. I texted you some tips I got back when I was training for the Grand Prix.

AMY
(sharply)
Yeah, yeah, the turn is fine.

A tense silence falls between the two.

AMY
(softly)
I just…I want it so bad, you know?

Maria softens. She walks over to Amy and touches her shoulder.

MARIA
I’ve been in your shoes before, and I’ve won. Now you will, too.

Amy nods.

EXT. L.A. BALLET CONSERVATORY – DAY

The sun is bright and blazing. We hear before we see the quick whispers of teenagers.

INT. L.A. BALLET CONSERVATORY – DAY

A group of male and female ballet dancers, all around 17, pace about the lobby area. Nervous energy is tangible.

The chatter is quiet but sharp. Out of the voices, we focus in on GEORGIA BRADLEY (17, graceful, sweet) who talks to a fellow DANCER (17, female, eager).

DANCER
You totally got it, Georgia, I just know. I saw you practicing the other day and holy moly –

GEORGIA
Oh, stop.

The animated conversation dissolves into the sea of competing voices. Pressed against the wall, watching Georgia’s conversation, is Amy, her expression unreadable.

A door SLAMS open. Conversation dies. Heads whip to the front. A ballet instructor, MISS ASHLEY (30, serious) walks out of one of the studio rooms with a sheet of paper and tape.

MISS ASHLEY
Thank you all for your hard work. We were absolutely in awe of your performances. After some careful deliberation, we are ready to present the final cast list. Congratulations!

Miss Ashley tapes the cast list to the side wall, then exits. As soon as she leaves, dancers sprint to see the results.

CLOSE on Amy’s face as she pushes to the front and reads through the list. The lower she looks, the paler her face becomes. Finally, she freezes. Excited voices fade away.

Near the bottom of the list is a role written in red: “Juliet.” Then next to it: “Georgia Bradley.” But underneath, written in smaller, forgettable script: “Amy Russell – Understudy.”

Amy closes her eyes. The scene goes DARK.

INT. AMY’S HOUSE – NIGHT

Light slowly fades back in. Amy and Maria stand facing each other in the living room.

MARIA
You what?!

Amy can barely meet her mother’s gaze. Her eyes are red and puffy.

MARIA (CONT’D)
(loud)
What, not even a minor role? Nothing? Are you kidding me?

AMY
I’m…Juliet’s understudy.

MARIA
And who gets to be Juliet?

AMY
Georgia.

Maria huffs quietly.

MARIA
You should’ve practiced for longer.

AMY
Mom!

MARIA
If you wanted to earn a place on that stage, you should have fought for it! But what did you do? You came home early.

Tears fall down Amy’s face.

AMY
Mom.

A tense pause.

AMY (CONT’D)
The teachers love her. She got so good so fast.

MARIA
Yeah, she is better. Sure. But you could’ve been prepared. I mean, what is your plan now? You crossed college off the list when you got those C’s last semester.

AMY
Because I was training for Swan Lake! For you!

MARIA
Don’t put this on me. This – this is on you.

Maria walks out angrily, leaving Amy alone with her tears. Amy holds a hand over her mouth to stifle the sound.

INT. L.A. BALLET CONSERVATORY – DAY

Ballet dancers mill back and forth as Miss Ashley prepares to start the music.

MISS ASHLEY
From the top! Balcony Pas de Deux.

Amy and the other dancers press to the sides of the room. Georgia and her PARTNER (17, male) prepare for the duet.
Amy watches closely as the music begins. Her expression is blank.

Georgia floats elegantly across the floor. She is utterly entrancing. When the duet ends, Miss Ashley claps.

MISS ASHLEY (CONT’D)
Wonderful! Water break starts now. Everyone back in five!

Georgia, the other dancers, and Miss Ashley walk out. Something catches Amy’s eye. In a cubby near Miss Ashley’s speaker is a bottle of baby oil.

Amy looks between the door and the cubby. She approaches the cubby. Amy picks up the baby oil and examines it.

Hesitantly, she walks to the center of the wooden floor. She waits for a moment before slowly tilting the bottle and pouring out some of the clear liquid. Amy moves the bottle left and right, pouring the oil as discreetly as possible.

CUT TO:

INT. L.A. BALLET CONSERVATORY – DAY

Georgia and her partner are set up again for their duo. The music plays.

Georgia prepares to turn. She presses into her pirouette. After one rotation, her face changes and her ankle rolls outward. She lets out a YELP and falls heavily to the floor.

Miss Ashley shuts off the music. Dancers flock to Georgia.

MISS ASHLEY
Help her up! Move!

Amy’s mouth hangs open. She looks away, shaking her head. She looks back to the dance floor in horror.

GEORGIA
I’m okay! I’m okay! Can everyone just please give me some space. I’m fine.

MISS ASHLEY
She’s fine!

Georgia makes her way unsteadily to her feet.

GEORGIA
I’m fine.

Amy, frustrated and unable to watch, slips out of the room.

CUT TO:

EXT. L.A. BALLET CONSERVATORY – NIGHT

Amy, wearing a cover-up, walks over to her car. She shivers. Other dancers chat as they walk to their own cars. Just as Amy goes to open the car door, Georgia taps on her shoulder. Amy flinches.

AMY
Oh, jeez, you scared me.

GEORGIA
Sorry! I just wanted to tell you we’re having a cast beach day this weekend in Santa Monica – first week of rehearsal celebration. Are you down?

AMY
A beach day?

GEORGIA
Oh come on, it’ll be so fun. The two Juliets take on the beach! You’re in, right?

AMY
Um…yeah, I’m in. Sounds fun!

Amy tries to smile but fails. Georgia doesn’t notice. She nods happily and walks away.

INT. AMY’S CAR – NIGHT

Amy sits in the driver’s seat, holding the phone to her ear.

MARIA (O.S.)
A beach day, really?

AMY
Just for a couple hours.

MARIA (O.S.)
You need to be practicing your choreography. What if someone gets sick? Or hurt? This show is your last chance to be seen. Your last chance.

AMY
(frustrated)
Everyone in the cast is going.

MARIA (O.S.)
You’re not in the cast, Amy.

Amy sits in pure silence, staring at her phone in disbelief. Her lip trembles. At her side, her hand balls into a fist.

MARIA (O.S.)
Amy, I didn’t mean –

Amy hangs up harshly. She puts the car in drive and races off.

EXT. SANTA MONICA – DAY

The sun is high in the sky, the beach not too busy. The Romeo and Juliet cast set down towels and rush into the ocean.

Everything seems perfect.

After some time, the sun begins to set. Some of the cast members start to slowly make their way out of the water. All start drying off except Amy, who stares into the distance, and Georgia, who floats on her back, eyes closed.

DANCER
Hey guys! We’re going to check out the ice cream shop on the other block. Are you coming?

Amy looks to Georgia.

GEORGIA
(to Amy)
Would you mind staying here with me? I just love the ocean, ugh. I used to swim for hours as a kid.

AMY
Yeah, sure.

GEORGIA
(to the others)
Nah, we’re going to keep swimming for a bit!

The other dancers fade away as they cross from the sand onto the street.

Amy eyes Georgia, who still isn’t looking at her.

AMY
How about this – I’ll race you to that buoy over there. Winner gets to sit shotgun on the way home.

GEORGIA
Oh, you’re on!

The two take off toward the buoy, which is farther away than it seems from the shore and out of sight of beachgoers. Amy takes the lead, maintaining a strong breaststroke. She begins to lose her breath. Georgia finds her pace and eventually passes Amy.

From above, we can see that Georgia travels in a diagonal fashion. When she gets within several feet of the buoy, she cuts across and in front of Amy. Amy pulls back to avoid crashing into Georgia.

AMY
Hey!

GEORGIA
I win!

AMY
(trying to sound casual)
You cheated!

GEORGIA
Did not!

AMY
Did too!

GEORGIA
Okay…maybe a little.

Amy splashes Georgia, laughing. Georgia splashes back harder, also laughing. The water blasts into Amy’s eye. Amy stops laughing. She blinks hard before sending a big wave in Georgia’s direction. It gets into Georgia’s mouth and soaks her hair completely. The playfulness is gone.

GEORGIA (CONT’D)
Hey, what the hell?

Suddenly, Amy’s expression turns dark. She splashes Georgia repeatedly until Georgia shoves her. Amy shoves back harder. Georgia kicks Amy. Amy yelps before slapping Georgia’s cheek. Georgia races forward, pushing Amy into the hard buoy.

Amy pulls back sharply. She watches Georgia, BREATHING HEAVILY.

GEORGIA (CONT’D)
Shit. I didn’t mean –

Amy charges forward, this time taking hold of Georgia’s hair. One hand grips the buoy. The other pushes Georgia’s head underwater. Bubbles rise to the surface. Georgia thrashes.

Amy holds her down, kicking at her arms.

Georgia scratches Amy several times. But without anything to stabilize herself, Georgia’s thrashing is pointless. The water suffocates her SCREAMS. Soon, the bubbles stop rising.

Georgia floats face-down. After a few long seconds, Amy lets go of Georgia’s hair. She kicks Georgia away. Gradually, the body sinks beneath the surface, lowering toward the ocean floor. Amy watches. The only sound is her BREATH – in and out, in and out.

EXT. SANTA MONICA SHORE – NIGHT

Amy approaches the shore. The sun has set. Her walk is slow. Her hair clings to the sides of her face, framing dark, focused eyes. Her hands are clean.

She steps out of the ocean soundlessly. With the softness of a gentle lullaby, Amy HUMS Juliet’s duet.

FADE OUT.

THE END