WT: Shooting Script by Oxygen Films

WRETCHED THINGS

Written by Gage Oxley

THE CONTENTS OF THIS SCRIPT ARE COMPLETELY CONFIDENTIAL.

It is requested by producers to read the 'Prelude' ahead of the screenplay.

INT. GYM - DAY

Trainers slam against the treadmill, the track flying quickly. We see a young man, BEN, mid-twenties, with sharp features and sweat trickling down his forehead. He has earphones in and we hear the tinny beat seeping out. Then, a vibration, dull and clipped; the man is stirred from his monotonous running as he looks down off camera. We see a phone, shaking at the head of the treadmill - a caller ID which says "Lucy Management". The man hurriedly slows the treadmill to a stop and swipes the call to accept. BEN Hey Lucy. He's breathless as he unclips from the treadmill and walks with the phone. We hear Lucy on the other end, through Ben's tinny earphones. LUCY Ben - we've got you a major deal. Tomorrow - Flare Magazine - 9am. BEN Flare? That's massive. They want me? LUCY It was a last minute drop-out so I put you forward. Is that a yes? BEN Yes. Yes, 100%. Send me the details. He speaks as he walks through the gym and into the changing room, toweling off the perspiration. He's just about caught his breath back as he hang up the phone. He exhales deeply, the nerves kicking in. He catches himself in a floor to ceiling mirror, his eyes analysing himself. He moves over to it, searching for imperfections. He winces at the reflection before moving off and away. 2

INT. FLARE MAGAZINE STUDIO - CORRIDOR - DAY A pale white corridor is illuminated by a blast of sunlight through the windows. Ben walks down the corridor, beside a young woman, LUCY, who is in her early 30's, professional. LUCY Just think of the people who are going to see this, Ben. (MORE)

2. LUCY (cont'd) The reach of FLARE is huge, and their demographic is perfect to raise your Instagram followers. So, just - be confident and be you. You'll be great, okay? She directs him into a room with one hand, a graceful push in his back with the other. He is moved off camera 3

INT. FLARE MAGAZINE STUDIO - STUDIO SPACE Ben walks in, a little shy, breathing out. He lingers awkwardly, not knowing what to do or who to see. He spots a man, PETER, dressed quite flamboyantly, who is testing the camera. He turns, and catches Ben. He moves over PETER Ah! Ben! Great to meet He shakes Ben's hand firmly, planting an arm around his shoulder and guiding him over to the space. PETER (cont'd) - okay, so we'll get you into the cleanup crew. You must be quite busy, I can imagine - those things show. Ben's plastered smile withdraws slightly, eyes zig-zagging around the space. PETER (cont'd) Let's get going in 30, okay? Ben smiles again, trying to be as warm as possible. BEN Definitely. Thank you. Very much. Ben moves off, Peter's gaze follows him. PETER Thank you.

Moments later - Ben is now against the white backdrop, he wears a sharp suit.

3. PETER (cont'd) Give me more life, Ben. I want to see that spark, okay? Ben nods, fending off the nerves. A click of the camera and the soft-boxes flash repeatedly. Ben is trying his best. PETER (cont'd) Beautiful. You look great. Yes! Peter reviews the photos from the laptops off of the backdrop space. Ben remains on the studio floor. PETER (cont'd) Okay - let's give the audience what they want. BEN Excuse me? PETER Let's unbutton the shirt, we can start there. Ben "oh"'s. He starts unbuttoning the shirt before a stylist steps in and helps. PETER (cont'd) Perfect. Now, give me sensual, okay? Ben brushes off the fluster and transforms into the pose. PETER (cont'd) Great! Yes. Perfect, Ben! You look amazing. Can you tense a little more for the camera? Flashes burst PETER (cont'd) Gorgeous, Ben. Your abs look incredible. Let's show them off a bit more? Peter moves forward, Ben freezes, like a deer in headlights. BEN I thought this was just a... photoshoot? A stylist has taken the jacket off of Ben, they look at Peter - unsure whether to continue.

4. Peter steps out from the camera PETER This is, yes. Did your agent not mention this? You know, it's just a shirt. Why work so hard for a body that you're never going to show? FLARE is the largest gay magazine in the UK. This is what our readers expect to see. Ben pauses before accepting. BEN Sure. The shirt comes off PETER Perfect! Okay. Eyes on the camera, I want to see that cheekiness. Flash, flash, flash. PETER (cont'd) Emphasise that core, Ben. You look absolutely incredible. We see the conflict in Ben, he's uncomfortable but trying not to let it show. He looks down PETER (cont'd) YES! Keep looking down, like that. Like you're admiring yourself. A flurry of light flashes as the shutter crashes. PETER (cont'd) Beautiful. Let's get some Flare in, shall we? He steps out from behind the camera and moves over - a stylist beside him already, a pot of make-up in hand. PETER (cont'd) So, what we want is the word FLARE over here He touches Ben's chest, who tenses. PETER (cont'd) Oh, sorry, are my hands cold?

5. Ben now looks up at Peter, who smiles. BEN Don't worry. PETER But we want you to write it, okay? Peter takes the pot from the stylist - next taking Ben's hand and pushing his fingers into the pot, and moving it to his chest. PETER (cont'd) Like that, okay? He writes the letter 'F' on the left of his chest. PETER (cont'd) Who knows, we could extend this to a five-page-spread. One letter per page. He smiles wryly, close to Ben. BEN Sounds good. PETER Doesn't it? He moves back, returning to his camera. Ben's fingers at the bottom of the 'F'. Flashes, he drags his fingers over his skin, scrawling an 'L'. Flashes, we're super close - Ben's eyes, fingers, 'A', the trigger pressing on the camera, 'R', the fizz of the lights' flash and then onto the 'E'PETER (cont'd) Look up for me, Ben - be cocky? We want to see your dominance, okay. He's about to finish the first line down of the 'E', PETER (cont'd) How about lowering the trousers, slightly? Ben places his other hand in his pocket, pulling them down just a touch more - he doesn't want to give them any more. He does the first horizontal line of the 'E'. Flash. PETER (cont'd) Great. Yes. Can you fluff a little bit?

6. Ben looks up now from his pose - confused. PETER (cont'd) Just, you know? Peter palms his trousers slightly. BEN Uhm. Is that - completely necessary? Ben looks around the room - the stylist organising a shelf, the makeup artist sat on her high chair, glowing phone in her hand. He's hoping someone would just step in. Beyond the bright lights, it's almost as if it's just him and Peter. PETER We're looking for a great cover photo, here, Ben. You know, between Print, Digital Editions, Social Media - our reach is 2 million unique readers. 2 million eyes, on you. Ben pushes his hand through his hair, a battle in his mind. And then, it lowers down, over his trousers - other hand quickly doing the second horizontal line. Flash, flash, flash. PETER (cont'd) Keep going, yes, Ben! This looks great. You look great. Keep that hand there, okay? Keep grabbing. Ben's fingers drag across the final strand on the 'E', the cameras' shutter crashes - lights blasting furiously - the flashes carry a slamming transition into: 4

INT. BEN'S HOME - BATHROOM - NIGHT

Ben is sat upright in the bathtub, the etched black letters still present across his chest. The room is silent, a harsh contrast to the buzz of the studio before. We can feel the sickness in the pit of Ben's stomach, he sinks into the bathwater, an aerial shot as the letters begin to fade from his skin. 5

INT. NEWSAGENTS - DAY Ben smiles, laughing, a completely different side of him. He's with two friends - all have bottles of alcohol. They walk, then, something catches Ben's eye - and his smile falters. We pull focus - a magazine stand.

7. There - FLARE MAGAZINE. His photo emblazoned over the cover. He moves forwards, picking it up. His face has completely hardened now. He examines it, stopping at his printed eyes, he stares into them - and we see what he sees - the empty, lifeless eyes staring back. Ben puts the magazine back on the shelf as we track sideways through the aisles and to the counter. A man, OLLY, midtwenties, is paying for something - he taps his card on the machine. It beeps, and moments later CASHIER I'm sorry, that's been declined. OLLY What? CASHIER You can try again? OLLY No. No, don't worry about it. We follow him as he walks out of the shop, and out into the open air. He lights a cigarette and takes a deep drag. 6

INT. OLLY'S HOME - LIVING ROOM - EARLY NIGHT The house is cold, dark. Olly is sat on the sofa, a beaten old laptop on the table plays a very poor quality pirated movie; flickering lights illuminating Olly's tired features. Then, the film freezes, Olly sighs - a pop-up alert "CHAT TO LOCAL GIRLS WHO WANT YOU NOW!" He creaks off of the sofa to the laptop, and clicks away from the ad, yet still it takes him to another site. OLLY For fuck's sake. He repeatedly clicks back, but it's relentless. It lands him on a site "Cam4Money". There's a woman, sitting talking through the computer - the chat below constantly updating with new messages. WOMAN Where's all my tokens today, huh? You don't want to give me anything?! C'mon guys - you know the score - no one sees nothing without some tokens!

8. She speaks with a drawled American accent. Olly moves to close the lid of his computer as we hear a 'jackpot' style crash of coins. WOMAN (cont'd) JAY! Thank you, honey, I always knew I could count on you to open up my show! Olly pauses, holding the lid down, then opens it up. There is a real buzz, the music is electric and she smiles and laughs. WOMAN (cont'd) So, I've got some toys to play with today. Which one, Jay? You can decide. On Olly - mesmerised, he breathes in - watching intently. His hand, moving away from the lid of the laptop to his knee, we follow it along as it reaches the hem of his jeans, and stops, moving inside, as the camera continues upwards towards Olly - swallowing. His breathing changes subtly. A cut-away of the sink blasting water; and Olly moving back away from the dim kitchen area, flicking water from his washed hands. He crashes back onto the sofa, we see the woman, finishing up her 'show' on the computer. Olly glances, and sees something new: "Become a webcam model today for free, and earn real money!" Olly sits forward, and moves the cursor over - and click. His eyes analyse the page, hungrily scanning each detail before he drags the computer closer and begins to type. 7

INT. OLLY'S HOME - BEDROOM - MORNING

The early sunlight breaks through the curtains, cascading onto the bed. Olly stirs, he sits up, breathing out and rubbing his eyes groggily. 8

INT. OLLY'S HOME - BATHROOM - CONTINUOUS He spits into the sink and comes back up, looking into the mirror at his reflection. He prods at the bags below his eyes. He "ah"'s and winces as he looks down, re-positioning himself. Then, he looks down again, reviewing himself. His eyes begin to travel up, a train of thought. He picks up the electric razor from the shelf, the dull hum of its vibration echoes as he considers one last moment and then lowers it.

9. 9

INT. OLLY'S HOME - BEDROOM

Back into the bedroom, Olly in his boxers - he stands in front of his closet; a few options already strung out on the bed. He pulls out a plain white shirt, checks it briefly and throws it on. 10

INT. OLLY'S HOME - LIVING ROOM A quick cut as Olly sits down in front of his laptop, we're head-on, and we see the bristling energy from him as he breathes in and out. He types, and the site comes to life on his screen - now, with an all-new button: 'BROADCAST NOW'. He bites his nails, this is the final hurdle - click, or no click. His eyes dart over the screen, as if begging it for an answer, and then click. The interface changes, we see a preview of himself, his show on his laptop. Olly livens, gulping and breathing out. His eyes move to the screen, we see "0 VIEWERS" turn to 1, to 2, to 5, to 10. OLLY Hey, everyone. Uhm. Can you hear me? He clicks, messing around with the preview. He checks the notification panel to see if people are answering JACKSBOXXX: why do u have a shirt on? ARI3S98: gay? OLLY (cont'd) Uhm - hey, I'm new here - this is my first stream... show... so, play nice. His voice shakes, deeply nervous. Another pop of a notification JACKBOXXX: token goal? OLLY (cont'd) Let's aim for 500, and we can see what hapThe 'jackpot' coin sound effect and: *JACKBOXXX has sent 500 tokens.

10. OLLY (cont'd) Fuck, thanks... jackbox. Olly removes his shirt, hurriedly and fumbling. OLLY (cont'd) So - we've got 56 people in already. Wow. Let's get going, then? The chat is now lighting up, some more benign questions like: where are you from, are you gay, are you in a relationship - to the more explicit: 'show cock', 'cum goal?','does he have lovense?' Olly's eyes hungrily read each one - quite overwhelmed then, another 'jackpot' coin sound effect*FRATGUY87 has sent 250 tokens. Followed by a notification popFRATGUY87: flash. OLLY (cont'd) Fuck, uh - I'm not... hard yet. Olly looks over at the chat again - and we see: 64 people in chat, then: 62, 58, 51. OLLY (cont'd) Okay, okay. He kneels up, sitting back on his legs; he considers for a moment, weighing everything up. He looks at the preview unsettled by his own image on the preview. And then, he moves his hand into the front of his boxers, moving back and forth. FRATGUY87: Boring. Didn't waste $25 for this. He doesn't respond, but he sees it - he moves his hand faster; and then, slowly lowers them; as if gaining a little more showmanship. Just as the reach revealing, we cut to behind - the boxers slide off, and he throws them out of frame. Then, a flurry of coins - several names with hundreds of tokens. Olly smiles - gaining a little confidence. OLLY (cont'd) Yeah, you like that?

11. He moves his hand across his chest - the other still low off camera. He moves over to the laptop and types something in; and then, we hear a song - electronic and gritty. He moves back to his position and looks down, reviewing himself, he smiles wryly. He looks back up and we catch his eyes, and a glint. The music seeps into clarity as we hit a montage, Olly's head leaning back in bliss, the views at 65, 68, 70 -11

INT. OLLY'S HOME - BEDROOM

A different day, still in montage, he's in a tight tee; talking to the camera. 12

INT. OLLY'S HOME - BEDROOM - LATER

We track in as Olly throws outfit after outfit onto the bed. 13

INT. OLLY'S HOME - LIVING ROOM

A close up of Olly, a light film of sweat dripping down him, we see his shoulder shudder quick as his head falls back. The views - 120, 121, 125. 14

INT. OLLY'S HOME - BATHROOM He stares at the reflection in the circles from below his eyes - then concealer stick extending from its dabbing it underneath his eyes. He wince at the reflection that peers

14 mirror, pulling the a quick cutaway of a cylinder, and then Olly stands back and doesn't back.

INT. OLLY'S HOME - LIVING ROOM Olly is knelt up, showing off at the camera, in his boxers. We see him rubbing in a liquid on his stomach. He looks up, hair a mess but his face looking much brighter. He says something to the show - but we don't hear over the music of the montage. He holds the liquid in his hands, toying with it. He looks forward to the computer *ANONYMOUS30X has sent you 1,000 tokens. - and then Olly puts it to his mouth, laughing.

12. A shot of his laptop, we track in, the chat exploding with life - and then, we see a cracked, old phone by the side of his laptop fade out, replaced with a new phone. Then, the laptop upgrades- although the interface stays the same. Back to Olly, now pulling up his jeans and buttoning them, he pulls over a shirt from the floor - and we see even his wardrobe has been upgraded, as he throws on a button-down shirt. The music fades out, as Olly laughs. OLLY Thanks guys. I loved that show, that was so much fun. I'll be back on Friday night with something very special planned, okay. Thanks so much for all those who sent tokens - I'll see you all soon! He sends a kiss to the camera and swiftly presses a key, and the glowing green webcam light disappears; and we are faced with a rather deafening silence. He exhales loudly, and jumps up, taking the shirt off and trousers down immediately as he walks to a room across the living room. Then, we hear a shower blast on. 15B Olly stands in the shower side on, he cracks his back and stretches - raising his head to the cool crash of water on his face. He breathes out - we can feel the pure freedom and light upon him, weightless. He washes himself, then, moves his arm back around him - we are close in on his eyes as he slows - thinks for a moment then we see his upper arm moves in. He breathes out - water crashing on his face. His eyes roll slightly, head moving down, wet hair landing across his face; his arm moving now at a steadier pace as we track outward. 16

EXT. CITY STREET - DAY The shower fades into the scene, as we see Olly walk down a city street. He looks at his phone and then looks up, the phone interface saying 'You have arrived' perkily. In the wide, we reveal: Nice 'N' Naughty. Olly goes straight in, a little hurriedly.

13. 17

INT. NICE 'N' NAUGHTY - CONTINUOUS Olly moves through the shop, he tries not to catch the eyes of the patrons, although - they are completely out of the expected: a woman, late 40s, wearing a pastel cardigan, a mid-twenties guy wearing a pop-culture shirt, and a handful others all who go against the 'seedy' stereotype. Olly's eyes dash over the store - looking at all of the sections. We see a woman, RONNIE, move over from behind the counter, she is bubbly and kills the tensionRONNIE Hey. I've not seen you here before, you kind of give off that 'caught in the headlight' feeling. Need help? She cocks her head, and smiles. OLLY Uh, yeah. This is all a bit new. I'm after something called a Love Sense? RONNIE Oh! Cool. Okay, yeah. She takes him over to the opposite side of the store; in the foreground and out of focus is the guy in the shirt. Who looks up, stares at him for a few seconds, and then back down - as he returns the camera pulls focus on him. He's thinking, racking his brains. Ronnie and Olly get to the side of the store, where she picks up a product. RONNIE (cont'd) Okay, so this is the best interactive toy: Lovense. Basically, you set it to what tip level you want it to react toRonnie continues as Olly is distracted by the man, who is now typing on his phone, Olly looks back at the woman, smiling and nodding. He's still distracted, tense by the man to his side where we can hear the sound of the keys typing on his phone. Olly glances to his side at the phone in his hands - and we see a photo of Olly, from one of his shows. Olly looks up, as the man turns round to look at Olly. Olly swiftly looks back to Ronnie, who is finishing up her pitch.

14. RONNIE (cont'd) - so it really does depend on whether you want to spend a bit more for tipbased interaction, or the cheaper alternative which vibrates based on the sound of tips. OLLY Uhm. Okay. That's really helpful. I'll have a think. Thank you. He's quick, and tensed - just wanting to leave. Ronnie smiles as he quickly walks out 18

EXT. CITY STREET - DAY

He gets into the fresh, cold air and breathes out. He delves into his pockets and quickly throws on a pair of sunglasses as he walks back up the path. 19

INT. OLLY'S HOME - BEDROOM At a desk now, the bedroom looks a little better - a new lamp, bedsheets fitted. Olly leans back in a high desk chair, skin pressed against the faux black leather. OLLY C'mon guys. Anything else? We're so close to the goal. He looks tired, not in face but in posture, energy completely lacking. As if he is dead behind the eyes. We're close in on them, they roam the webpage as we hear the 'jackpot' jingle again. He shuts his eyes, for a split second too long to be a blink. OLLY (cont'd) Nice one. Thanks MWAYATT - much appreciated. Let's turn this to something better, yeah? He leans forward and taps the phone, skipping the song once or twice to something new. He leans back in his chair, and seamlessly removes the underwear. His hands move down off camera, he's far more confident and we see no sign of worry but there's no joy. No pleasure. His hands start moving as he watches the chat, we see a few messages: - HOT!!!

15. - Yaaasss Daddy! - How big? - He's fucking gorgeous. Olly cracks a smile, genuine for once, and he moves his position on the chair, sitting up - he continues on, a little more showmanship. We flick between the interface on the computer, a buzz and alive with messages, and the webcam recording of Olly, the music blasting; and then Olly in the real scene, much quieter and less synthetic. As we cut between the two, we see different elements each time, and the show progresses with Olly moving. We finally end back up on Olly in real life, we've built a crescendo in the music as has he; and we see after a sharp breath, a white line drew in the air and arching like an arrow onto Olly's stomach, the crashing noise of coins signifying tokens being handed over, and a few more ropes, until it stops. Olly breathes out gulping in lost air. Then, a 'ping' that takes him completely out of the moment, he holds his right hand in the air, and grabs his phone with his left hand. He sees a notification: "CAM4MONEYTWEETS: @OllyMatthews HIGHLIGHTS VIDEO!", he can see the thumbnail, Olly sits up - the camera slowly tracking upwards as we see the horror on his face. His eyes slowly move over to the laptop, the green light beside the webcam almost glaring malevolently. Olly now grabs his eyes with his hand, in frustration. OLLY (cont'd) Fuck. What the fuck have I done? He looks up - tears falling down his face, we see the chat - WTF is happening? - Has he already cum??? - is this guy having a breakdown on c4c rn lol The numbers at 540, then 538, 536. Back to Olly, the screen piercing him, he quickly leans forward and slams the laptop lid down, the room crashing out the cold light from the laptop.

16. Olly cries - we're on a wide, he's in the centre of the frame, his nakedness carrying a weight of vulnerability as his tears fall from his face. 20

INT. NIGHTCLUB FLOOR - NIGHT

LOUIS, a young man, hollowed features and sharp eyes which dart around the club. He is standing to the side, occasionally caught by a flash of light. He scans the room behind the camera, and then, gets stuck. He cocks his head back slightly, and we see what he sees: another young guy, JACK, sat staring back at the bar - he takes a sip of his drink and we return to Louis. 21

INT. NIGHTCLUB TOILETS - LATER

A tight shot of Louis as he aggressively guides his hips into Jack's head - he has a handful of hair as he rocks back and forth, slamming the younger guy into the toilet cubicle wall, gagging. Louis moans and slows down, breathing heavily. LOUIS Yeah. That's what a superior man tastes like faggot. He spits at Jack as he zips his jeans back up; pushing him away as he opens the door to the cubicle We're outside the cubicle now and we see the grotty tiles, dim, yellowed lights cracked upon the ceiling. Louis finishes up fastening his jeans as he moves to the sink. We pull focus onto Jack - crawling out of the toilets, a string of white glistening over his face and hair. He vomits onto the tiles, Louis doesn't even flinch as he continues washing his hands in the foreground, out of focus. Then, he moves off camera leaving Jack on the floor. 22

INT. NIGHTCLUB STEPS - CONTINUOUS Louis pushes through the tight crowd, his head pulled back with swaggering confidence. He stops, and moves back, tongue roaming his mouth as he stands by a girl - EVE, 19. He extends his hand so it's pushed against the wall beside her head. LOUIS Well, aren't you a pretty little thing?

17. The girl smiles, laughing it off as she continues talking to a friend. LOUIS (cont'd) You know, this club is over 18's only. The girl rolls her eyes and turns around to face him. EVE Well, it's a good job I'm 19 then, isn't it. LOUIS What're you drinking then? The girl considers, sharpening her eyes. EVE A Caipirinha. Make it two. Louis smirks, eyes devilish, the tongue slides over his cheek again as he moves away and deep into the crowd. 23

INT. LOUIS FLAT - BATHROOM - MORNING A sharp cut as Louis glides a syringe out of his arm, he moves his gaze up to a dirtied mirror. The effects start to seep in as he exhales and brings his head up, in complete ecstasy. He moves into the mirror closer and stares at his eyes, he smiles, but it's broken and painful. LOUIS Fuck. He gulps, the effects really hitting in - he stretches his hand into his boxers, aching. He picks up his toothbrush and starts brushing, staring at himself throughout. He spits into the barren sink, and then, starts moving the toothbrush, in, more at an angle, he's testing the waters, out, in, he stares at himself as he builds more of a pace then. Stops. A flare of hatred, disgust, he screams and quickly slams his fist into the mirror. He grabs hold of the sink to steady himself.

18. 24

EXT. TERRACE BLOCK - LATER

Louis is banging on the door of a house, exasperated. He paces back and forth, he hears the latch of the door, which then opens - before it can be properly answered, he barges in. 25

INT. JOEY'S HOUSE - CONTINUOUS Louis walks into the hallway, we see a man, JOEY, similar age, pushed against the wall by the door. LOUIS Close the fucking door. Joey quickly shuts the door - but doesn't move, stuck facing the door. LOUIS (cont'd) Why did you take so long to answer? JOEY I... I - don't... Joey stammers, nervous. Louis moves quickly, shoving the man against the door. LOUIS Remember who the fuck I am? I don't need to be here. JOEY Yes LOUIS Yes what? JOEY Yes, sir. Louis glares at Joey, eyes blazing with anger and hatred. LOUIS Get upstairs. Now. Joey doesn't hesitate, moving out from beneath Louis and out of frame. Louis turns as Joey moves past him; he has a light film of sweat covering his face, he shuts his eyes and exhales - thriving.

19. 26

INT. JOEY'S HOUSE - LANDING

We follow behind Louis as he maneuvers the landing - he opens an ajar door 27

INT. JOEY'S HOUSE - JOEY'S ROOM - CONTINUOUS Louis walks into the room - it's darkened, but a slice of sunlight dashes over him. He unbuckles his belt and slaps it off. He moves into the camera, forcing us to see the reverse as he walks over to the bed, moving round and revealing Joey knelt forward on the bed. He moves to the side closer to Joey's head, he places his belt under his chin, lifting it up so that he looks at him. LOUIS This. Is your place. The belt moves towards his throat, and around, as he slides it through the buckle and places it tight around Joey's neck. LOUIS (cont'd) Too tight? Joey coughs, clawing a little at the belt. LOUIS (cont'd) Perfect. Louis moves over to a speaker - he presses 'play', and it begins - Losing My Religion - R.E.M. Joey struggles, he is sweating, face turning quite red, straining. Louis dances round the bed, shirt coming off, still dancing; while Joey remains in the position on the bed. Louis takes a small packet from his jeans pocket, then the jeans off, he moves onto the bed and pours a line of cocaine onto Joey's back. Louis then coils a note and swiftly snorts it across. He then moves off and over behind Joey. He holds his palm out and spits - moving closer to Joey as we move away and track down to Joey, breathing heavily. JOEY Yes. Please. Sir. Then, a hand a grabs Joey's hair and pulls it up, we see the strain and pain on his face. Louis, out of focus behind him rocking back and forwards.

20. A side on Louis, he is shaking, the drugs, pleasure, ecstasy. LOUIS What am I? Joey splutters. Louis, desperate for an answer moves in faster and harsher - the aggression blasting through LOUIS (cont'd) What the fuck am I, faggot? Joey moans, stretching to breathe JOEY A superior, straight alpha man. Louis picks up pace - and then stutters, gasping. There's a slight pause, but not long before he pulls away and moves off the bed hurriedly. He slides back on his boxers as he does, and moves over to the speaker - the song not even finished - and switches it off. He holds at the speakers, a jumble of thoughts crossing his mind, frustration, anger, disgust. JOEY (cont'd) Sir? Please. He turns around and we pull focus to Joey - face red and sweaty. Louis exhales, and moves over, quickly undoing the latch and moving out of the room as Joey gulps in air, collapsing onto the bed. 28

EXT. TERRACE BLOCK - MOMENTS LATER Louis blows out a breath of smoke, and holds the cigarette back to his lips quickly. He still shakes, we see in the bleak daylight the paleness of his skin and sharp facial structure. The door beside him opens, Joey - sheepish. JOEY Thank you. He holds out a few notes - Louis takes them, quickly counting them and nodding. Joey retreats into the house. Louis lingers for a second longer, blowing out another billow of smoke, before throwing it on the floor and moving off camera.

21. 29

INT. LOUIS FLAT - KITCHEN - NIGHT

Louis leans back on the kitchen worktop, he's preparing another hit, delicately sucking up the clear liquid into the syringe. He sinks it into his forearm, and, as he does, the natural moonlight slowly seeps into a deep, vibrant red wash. He cocks his head backwards as the euphoria melts through his veins, from his head down to his shoulders, and down, down, down. To a reverse shot, as we track in on a silhouette, solitary platformed in the centre of the room, the red wash now sinking over, revealing a statue on a plinth - its muscular torso twisted at an almost impossible angle. Louis stares - and then, slowly, moves forward, entranced by the figure in front of him. He reaches it, and softly brushes his fingers across its outstretched arm. Louis' eyes crash over it, taking it in. He moves round, admiring it; hand gliding over its abdomen. And then, through a deep crack in its side; continuing round until he is back in front. He reaches up and brushes his thumb over its mouth, and down, caressing its jawline. He moves in, edging closer, shaking as he pushes his lips against the statues. His left hand, placed inside the statues' fracture, falls loose as it cracks deeper. Louis, now kissing with more passion, falls back and we see the statues' face, before plastered with beauty, now blistered with shatters and cracks. Louis is uncertain, moving back - it's him who's caused this. He looks down at his hand, a shard of the statues' side placed in his hand. He closes his fingers around it, gripping tightly. He looks up, the statue now devoid of smooth texture. We track out of Louis, as he grips the shard tighter, blood beginning to drip from in between his fingers. He winces in pain, trying to control it, hiding it. Tears fall, though, Louis drops the shard and quickly swipes the tears. They continue falling relentlessly. LOUIS Fuck. He fights to contain his emotion, as he collapses onto the floor. He opens his palm up, and we see the ruptured skin. 30

INT. VICE GAYCLUB - NIGHT Louis sits at the bar, eyes dark and sunken. He swirls around the remnants of a drink in a glass.

22. Then, the flickering of overheard lights crash on, making Louis wince. We see the club, a few scattered people; staff cleaning up what once was the night. Louis looks around, he spots a man at the end of the bar, looking at him. Louis pauses on him a moment, but continues his glance around - he begins moving his gaze back forward, but stops on the man again. The man puts down his drink and moves forward, Louis shifts forwards - pretending not to be engaged. The man reaches him and sits on the stool next to him. He has an older look, more rugged, but attractive: MIKE. MIKE No luck then? LOUIS I'm straight. MIKE You come here often for a straight guy. LOUIS I get free drinks. MIKE Huh. Sure. Mike stays put - the silence going on a little too long. MIKE (cont'd) You know, I told people I was straight until my mid-twenties. It's one of my biggest regrets - I feel like I've lost my entire youth. Louis' jaw tenses, LOUIS Thirty quid. MIKE What? LOUIS It's thirty if you want me to suck you off. Mike is aghast LOUIS (cont'd) Forty if you're gonna lecture me while I do it.

23. He laughs now. MIKE I'm okay, thanks. I can't believe it's got to that point already. Louis looks at him now, not understanding. MIKE (cont'd) Y'know, clubs like this - most people wouldn't clock the guy in his thirties. But, you. You did. A bartender moves over - takes Louis' glass, BARTENDER Your tab's ÂŁ24 tonight. Louis gets into his pocket - but Mike is quicker. Sliding the money over. MIKE I guess you're right. He stands up now, downing the last of his own drink MIKE (cont'd) You do get free drinks. He smiles and moves off. 31

EXT. CITY STREET - LATER - NIGHT Mike walks down a dimly lit alleyway, cigarette in his mouth. He sparks his lighter, but it's struggling. As he focuses, he doesn't hear the running behind him - he turns too late - and he's shoved against the wall by Louis. Mike is shocked, scared. Louis stands with his arms on Mike breathing heavily. Then, after a beat moves in and kisses him. He pulls away slowly, both as shocked as each other. Then, a glass flies and smashes against the wall next to Mikes head. They duck, and we see a drunk man stumbling out of a doorway. DRUNK MAN Fucking queers, go catch AIDs and fucking die out. He stumbles off down the alley - back to Mike and Louis, Louis is shaking, eyes down, pale. Mike moves off the wall, breathing out.

24. MIKE Jesus. Louis turns against the wall and vomits - Mike looks round, and we jumpcut to: 32

INT. LOUIS FLAT - LIVING ROOM - LATER - NIGHT The door to the living room opens - and Louis stumbles in helped by Mike. MIKE Wow. What a place. He moves over to the large floor-to-ceiling windows, looking out onto the specks of the city lights. Louis is stood over a stereo and speakers. He clicks in the slot and presses play. Touch Me (I Want Your Body) - Samantha Fox blasts through the apartment. Mike turns around. Briefly stunned by the sound Louis steps away from the speakers, dancing round the absurdly empty room. Mike laughs, unsure what to do - he moves closer. Louis dances over to Mike, who he pushes backwards onto an armchair. Mike is still smiling laughing. Louis turns back, dancing completely in the moment. He peels off his jacket and throws it out to his 'audience'. Mike "woo"'s, Louis ramping it up, as the shirt is then slowly rocked up, he moves over to Mike - straddling him as the shirt is off. He sits on his lap as the belt is achingly removed to the music, he's still dancing and writhing on Mike, enjoying it as much as Louis. He cracks his belt before almost ceremoniously placing it around his the back of his neck, pulling him in closer before pushing him into the chair. The belt threads through and tightens, the music still thumping. MIKE (cont'd) Oh. Louis places a finger over his mouth, LOUIS Shhh. He smiles, finger roaming over Mike's lips. Then he lifts the belt over his mouth. He writhes off of Mike, dancing down, further until he is knelt on the floor in front of Mike. He unbuttons his jeans, excruciatingly.

25. Pulling them down; we cut to close ups - Louis eyes', dilated, almost full of excitement and life. Mikes with lust, he arcs upwards slightly to allow the jeans to give way. MIKE Wait. He is muffled through the belt - Louis looks up. Mike grabs something out of his jeans pocket as they lower: a condom. LOUIS Don't get ahead of yourself. MIKE I'm positive. Louis looks up - the air sucked out of the room. His once softer face hardens, anger, disgust. He stands up and moves over to the stereo and clicks the music off. The room, suddenly very quiet. Mike moves the belt down from his mouth. MIKE (cont'd) It should be fine. Please, don't be like this. Quiet again as Louis hunches over the counter. LOUIS Get the fuck out. Mike doesn't move - rigid with either determination or fear, we can't quite tell. LOUIS (cont'd) GET OUT. He screams now - turning. Mike stands up MIKE Please He moves over to Louis, MIKE (cont'd) Please, just listen. Quickly, Louis' fist flies at Mike, clashing his nose. His head twists, and moves back, blood starting to trickle down from his nose.

26. Mike holds a moment before turning and through the door; leaving Louis in the dark silence of his apartment. The scenes' lighting slowly fades out and replaced - the red wash. Louis looks over his shoulder and spots: a marble plinth in the centre of the room. He moves over to it, slowly. Then, he places his foot atop and lifts himself up onto the base. He arcs his back, stretching out, letting his new position seep through his bones, and then, he reaches the marked pose - similar to the statue before, twisted at an almost impossible angle. He freezes and holds. The red light just about highlighting the tears that fall down his cheeks, but now he cannot hide them. Slowly, he contorts his body, twisting to look down at himself - down at his side, blood trickling from his side; where the previous statue broke. Louis breathes out, lifting his head upwards - he is placed as an Adonis-style silhouette against the city lights behind him. 33

INT. LOUIS FLAT - BEDROOM

The bright early morning light washes over Louis, as his eyes heavily crack open. He lays over and picks up his phone from beside the bed it's a brick-style phone LOUIS Tonight. 6PM. Mine. He hangs up - and shuts his eyes, breathing out. 34

INT. LOUIS FLAT - BATHROOM Louis walks into the bathroom, the mirror still cracked, throws back a distorted reflection. He turns the shower on he steps in and stands still underneath the blast of water. He looks up at the head of the shower - we see a high angle of the water hitting his face as he stares, eyes heavy. The water, darkened red and dirtied, swirls around his feet, and down through the drain. Close on his side as his head stretches backwards, his larynx pushing out, jawline sharp. He exhales deeply, painfully.

27. We're on the showers' control now, and then, bloodied fingers move over and turn the dial, off. The waters' rush stops. Louis steps out of the shower, covered in a slick, deep red of blood. The blood is already drying on him, contrasting with the pure white of the underwear he puts on. There's a buzzer noise, which distracts Louis - and then moves off. 35

INT. LOUIS FLAT - CONTINUOUS Louis moves through the flat, still bloodied. He moves to the door, and opens it. Joey. There's a strange silence, Joey doesn't respond to the blood. LOUIS Come in. Joey moves in, and through into the lounge. He also is immediately enthralled by the view, the sun sets over the city as the warm glow filters through. JOEY It's beautiful. Isn't it? Curtains fall, shutting out the light, and pushing through a harsher blue. Joey is taken aback - he looks over at Louis. The red across his body mixing with the blue light. LOUIS Show me how you like it. Joeys' head cocks slightly, unsure. JOEY I don't understand. Louis moves over to Joey, the scene is tense - quiet and eerie. LOUIS Take me to the paradise I deserve. Joey, taking the lead now, moves closer to Louis. He hesitates in front of his face, not sure whether he is permitted. Louis is frozen, unmoved.

28. Joey plants a kiss upon Louis, and then softly pulls back. Dropping down lower to his knees. Louis moves his head down, as Joey holds the hem of the pure white briefs, as he pulls - we move up to Louis who pulls his head up looking away and deep into the camera. We cut to his point of view, and we see Joey, on his knees in front of the statue, his head pulling back and forth. After a moment, Joey stands up, and looks over at Louis. He circles the statue, his hand dragging along a hammer across the its abdomen. He reaches his place behind the statue and drops his shorts. Then, with the hammer, strikes its arm it shatters off. Louis is watching, his face a twisted contortion of pain and mourning. As Joey moves in and out sensually, the arm and hammer is wrapped around the statues stomach. Then, a blow to its other arm which splinters. Then, back across the stomach as Joey becomes more into the rhythm - and the hammer pulls out - Louis, failing to hold it together - and the hammer strikes its heart. Louis gasps, and looks down LOUIS (cont'd) Stop. He pushes Joey, now back on his knees in front of Louis, who falls back onto the floor. He looks shocked, unsure. JOEY Sir, you asked me toLOUIS Don't. Just - don't. Louis looks around now, the statue absent. JOEY You know, I sometimes think what's going through your head. Louis looks up - he doesn't stop him. JOEY (cont'd) Whether you genuinely hate the person you are, or if that's the turn on. LOUIS You know fuck all about me. Joey holds a moment. JOEY That's true.

29. Joey nods, he doesn't continue. But he's hit Louis hard, he's fighting back his anger and pain. Louis moves over to Joey, jaw tight, clamped shut. He's breathing heavy - blood still stuck to his body. He stands over Joey. LOUIS Stand up. Joey slowly does, the scene is deathly tense. He pushes him onto the sofa. Joey doesn't know what to expect. Louis grabs a roll of tape from the table beside him. He quickly pulls either side, as he moves over to Joey, straddling his lap he puts the tape over his mouth, Joey's eyes scream uncertainty. Then, he continues wrapping it around Joey's head, as if mummifying him. LOUIS (cont'd) I don't want to hear you. I don't want to see you. The tape continues round and round and round. LOUIS (cont'd) Now, it's your turn to listen. The tape omits his ears LOUIS (cont'd) Can you hear me, now? There's a muffled noise through the tape; his nose is left free, too. LOUIS (cont'd) Good. Louis pulls Joey's shorts from beneath him; and slowly moves down onto him. He breathes out. LOUIS (cont'd) You can pretend like you know me all you want. Joey moans are muffled through the tape - Louis continues to push Joey back against the sofa as he moves atop him. LOUIS (cont'd) But I'm going to let you know exactly who I am. As Louis continues his monologue, he builds up pace -

30. LOUIS (cont'd) This... feeling - inside. I fucking hate it. It's this, suffocating, burning, aching desire. It feels like there's a storm around me, and I'm in the very heart of it. And, every time I act on it - I break, and break, and break myself. It eats at me, constantly and leaves me starving. Louis pace is now faster, he breathes harder. He reaches across and stretches more tape over Joey, now, his nose. We hear Joey muffled through the tape. JOEY No. LOUIS Has that ever crossed your mind? We are too complex. We are too much for your labels and boxes. Heroes and villains, good or bad - gay or straight, submissive or dominant, out or in, sober or abuser, positive or negative, alive or Throughout, Joey has been struggling more and more as he suffocates. Louis' pace quickening, he moans - harshly, a guttural cry. Then LOUIS (cont'd) Dead. He slams his fist into Joey's lower face, the crescendo hits - as he pulls it back we see the shard of stone from the statue in his hand. And, the puncture in the tape by his mouth - as Joey gasps for breath, hurriedly drowning in oxygen. Louis breathes heavily as he moves off him. Joey lays there breathing out. LOUIS (cont'd) Now you know. What it's like to suffocate. He moves off and over to the other side of the living room. Before he gets to the door - he turns, LOUIS (cont'd) See yourself out.

31. 36

INT. LOUIS FLAT - BATHROOM

The shower is on, Louis is sat on the base, underneath the falling water - the blood staining his skin now washing away. 37

EXT. CITY STREET - NIGHT

Louis stands against a quiet wall, we hear the thudding beats of a club nearby. He holds his mobile to his ear PHONE SYSTEM Outgoing call cannot be connected. Louis, at first confused, looks down at the phone and clicks it off. He looks around, thoughts tumbling through his head - and then moves off. 38

INT. JOEY'S HOUSE - JOEY'S ROOM - CONTINUOUS

Joey moves over to his desk - he looks down at a large phone on the table; we track round him as we see him considering: did he make the right decision. He looks up and out at the night sky, breathing out. Twisting his head and neck round - shutting his eyes - free. 39

INT. VICE GAYCLUB - NIGHT Mike is sat at the bar, talking to a friend over the loud music - Groove is in the Heart - Deee-Lite. A bartender moves over, BARTENDER This is from the gentleman over there. Mike looks up at the bartender, confused - he looks over, and we pull focus - Louis sat at the other end of the bar. MIKE'S FRIEND You know him? He's cute. Louis smiles. Mike returns one, but it's colder. He looks back MIKE Yeah. Yeah, I know him.

32. He takes the drink - and sips it. He looks back over to Louis, trying to figure him out. Louis pulls away eye contact and back to the drink in front of him. He downs it, pays up, and moves off into the deep, crowded club.

-CREDITS ROLL- END FILM -