5. No Royal Pardons Allowed.

MARCH 20, 2013. | 10:23am —

INT. SILVER RIDGE HEIGHTS. SLATER RESIDENCE. LIVING ROOM. DAY.

—

GAEL SLATER sits over a half-finished sketch of a dragon. A rough outline that shows his artistic prowess. Frustrated, Gael crushes the paper. Throwing it across the kitchen, where it lands in the trashcan sitting at the far corner.

Lucian strolls into the kitchen, shirtless, sweat drenching his face and torso, and soaking the waist of his running shorts. He glances at the waste can almost filled to the brim with crumpled paper.

Lucian Slater:

Art project coming up a little short?

Gael nods with a frown.

Gael Slater:

I'm thinking a dragon for my art class project isn't something I should do right now. I might just make a fountain like those people put in their bathrooms with the water running through it.

Lucian raises an eyebrow, chuckling at the boy.

Lucian Slater:

And making art is easier than... drawing it?

Gael Slater:

Of course. I'm drawing. The shading must be perfect, and if it isn't, you have to either start over or erase hours of progress.

He hops from the stool and grabs the sketchbook and his case of art supplies.

Gael Slater:

I finished my homework. Can we go to the Charles Stacy Museum? They just got the newest piece by my favourite artiste, Ola Lehonab.

Lucian Slater:

You're aware I only take one day off per week, right?

Gael Slater:

And you're aware that spending time with me always improves your day, right?

Gael glances up at him with a challenge in his eyes. Lucian snorts, but he nods later with a sigh and a laugh.

Lucian Slater:

Sure. Just uh, gimme a minute to shower and throw on some jeans.

Gael Slater:

Uh, wear a tie. Today, important people will be there.

Lucian Slater:

Gael, daddy's not wearing a tie.

Gael pouts, and Lucian rolls his eyes.

Lucian Slater:

That was cute when you were four, but you're nine now, and damn near sprouting facial hair.

He playfully pokes at Gael's upper lip, where he doubles back to properly see the light shadow.

Gael Slater:

What?

Lucian narrows his gaze, then shakes his head.

Lucian Slater:

Nothing. I'll wear a damn button down.

Gael Slater:

Dad, can we please just dress up and go out for once? It doesn't always have to be trainers and ripped jeans. Which...

He trails off as he glances down at his father.

Gael Slater:

... you're kind of too... old for.

Lucian gasps audibly, but Gael's expression doesn't shift.

Lucian Slater:

Your Uncle Karim has been trying to get me to wear a suit.

He shrugs with a contemplative nod and Gael beams brightly.

Later, Gael steps into the living room, wearing slim-fit pants in woven cotton fabric with an adjustable elasticized waistband and zip fly with a button. The dark blue melange colour of the suit brings out his eyes. Yet it is punctuated by his white, adjustable hook-loop trainers, with a dark blue bell cap and loop at the back.

His eyes widen, and his mouth opens in a wide grin when he sees Lucian. The man wears a black, seamlessly tailored three-piece suit, with golden buttons and mandarin style collars. Lucian fiddles with his messy bun, grimacing.

Gael Slater:

Ok, we're having Uncle Karim buy all your suits from now on.

Lucian Slater:

While you're at it, have him also shop for a hairdresser.

He turns to face Gael, who nods at him approvingly.

Gael Slater:

Just... redo the bun, and like, use a brush this time?

Gael turns towards the kitchen but spins back around with a raised index finger.

Gael Slater:

Maybe use that pomade I got you last Christmas... If it's not already expired.

Lucian grimaces, and Gael strolls off to the fridge whilst buttoning up his own jacket.

Lucian Slater:

Your suit looks great.

Gael Slater:

I chose the trainers. Uncle Karim said I needed to be bold to set the mood of the suit.

He pulls away from the fridge, brandishing a box of strawberry milk. He shrugs and flips his collar with a smirk before puncturing the box with the straw.

Lucian Slater:

So, what's the plan, kid?

Gael takes a sip.

Gael Slater:

We go to the museum, then we finish off with dinner. Burgers at Murphy's.

He shrugs and Lucian chuckles.

Lucian Slater:

Did your Uncle Karim give you the museum and Murphy's money?

Gael hesitates, but he nods. Instead of admonishing him, Lucian sighs.

Lucian Slater:

Good, because we were two minutes away from taking off these really... really nice suits.

He gently pulls at his lapels but frowns when Gael smirks up at him, then rolls his eyes at his father's messy hair.

Gael Slater:

You still need to fix your hair though.

—

MARCH 20, 2013. | 5:56pm —

INT. CHARLES STACY MUSEUM, BOSTON. BALLROOM. DAY.

Lucian and Gael enter an imposing gathering, both in awe at the festivities. A grand chandelier streams light from its glistening crystals, flowing from the ceiling like a bejewelled waterfall.

Walls of artwork are displayed on setups, erected under lavish lights for fancily dressed people to explore. Some presented in flourishes of illumination, abstract constructs, and risen platforms strewn about. The space is large, carpeted, a vibrant blue that highlights the plain beige walls.

Lucian Slater:

Have I told you how lucky I am to have you as a son?

He nudges Gael, who grins proudly.

Gael Slater:

Oh my god, we're actually at a fancy party and you don't look out of place in flannels.

Lucian Slater:

Hey, flannels represent emancipation and pride.

Gael scoffs.

Gael Slater:

More like toxic masculinity, but hey, I'm nine, sometimes flamboyant, and I like boys. The idea of all that is lost on me.

Lucian raises an eyebrow, attempting to ponder Gael's meaning.

Lucian Slater:

Somehow, I think you have an idea because how the heck are you so smart? Also, I like men too, kid. You don't see any Charlottes or Michelles running around wearing my t-shirt.

Gael Slater:

I also don't see any Scotts or Steves.

Lucian's eyes widen and his cheeks grow hot.

Gael Slater:

Actually, I don't mind not seeing your adult conquests in underwear while I'm eating cereal.

Lucian gasps, but they are interrupted by a young host, clad in a white pantsuit, accentuated by a vibrant red waistcoat. She bows at Lucian and Gael, offering them a perfect view of her elaborate bun.

Lucian self-consciously lifts his hand to his own, perfected by Gael's nimble hands.

Hostess:

Welcome to the Eurogent Showcase. May I see your tickets?

Lucian's left eyebrow raises, and he looks down at Gael.

Lucian Slater:

Uh, I don't-. Did I die and wake up in a bad chocolate factory dream? Do I have to have a golden ticket to enter this very public museum?

The woman opens her mouth to speak, but Lucian interrupts her.

Lucian Slater:

Can't we just-.

He stops when Gael reaches inside his jacket and procures two literally golden tickets. Glossy, laminated rectangles that bear no marking, but glisten against the lights with a violet hue.

Gael Slater:

Lucian and Gael Slater.

He relays his words vibrantly and with a bright grin. The woman smiles gingerly at him and takes the ticket to scan it before she pulls out a smartphone-like device from her back pocket. She runs it over the first ticket, and the device chimes then blink green at the top.

Lucian Slater:

Oh.

He narrows his gaze, leaning forward to glance at the plain, rectangular device with no other redeeming quality but the light at the top.

Hostess:

Please, enjoy the showcase.

She steps aside and sweeps her hand to beckon them into the building.

Lucian Slater:

This is way more elaborate than I thought. And...

He looks down at Gael.

Lucian Slater:

... let me guess. Uncle Karim got you those golden tickets.

Gael shrugs.

Gael Slater:

We don't get out enough.

Lucian sighs, but he pats Gael's shoulders and leads him further into the ballroom.

Lucian Slater:

At least that'll get him off my back.

Halo Noel (In Distance):

Gael?

Lucian whirls at the sound of the man's voice. Startled by his presence, clad in a teal suit, with a white undershirt. Like Gael, he wears no tie and white round-toe trainers with perforated details. Unlike his usual curly look, Halo's hair is straightened. Coiffed in a bun, much messier than Lucian's. Though, it brings out a certain appeal and highlights every attribute of his fair face.

Gael Slater:

Mr Noel!

Gael runs over to the man, who surrenders to his warm hug. Though he returns it stiffly and steps away from Gael. Gaze still focused on Lucian. Taking in the suit he wears, and how formally polished he looks.

Halo Noel:

Mr Slater, that suit is... absolutely stunning.

Lucian's cheeks burn fiercely. Even the heat causes his ears to tingle.

Lucian Slater:

I-... What are you doing here?

His shocked expression becomes a frown and Halo recoils. Lucian closes his eyes and curses under his breath as he looks away. Ashamed of his tone. Caught off-guard by the urgency, but also the surprise. Halo recoils, but he remains as composed as his emotions allow.

Halo Noel:

I... had a golden ticket.

Lucian Slater:

I-.

Gael Slater:

We did too! My Uncle gave them to us.

Halo Noel:

Well, it is a pleasant surprise to see you both here.

His gaze sweeps to Lucian, but the man's jawline hardens.

Lucian Slater:

Right.

Halo then waves and walks away. Lucian keeps his gaze glued to the man as he approaches and speaks with a young, striking couple. Gael runs up to a painting and pulls out a notebook. Writing details in a code of special symbols.

Lucian stands in the distance, still distracted as Halo moves about. Greeting guests and patrons, just like a host would. He narrows his gaze but averts it when the man looks in his direction. Halo bids a group of people farewell, then strides over.

Halo Noel:

Are you enjoying the showcase?

He smiles with a hint of curious abandon, but Lucian just frowns. Halo purses his lips, nods, then turns to leave.

Lucian Slater:

Why are you greeting everybody?

Halo stops and turns to face Lucian again.

Halo Noel:

Because I am... the host.

Lucian nods a stoic reaction that makes his smoulder appear as an annoyance. Halo shakes his head, highlighting a displeased expression.

Halo Noel:

Enjoy the showcase, Mr Slater. Sorry for bothering you.

Lucian Slater:

You're not bothering me. It's just strange my son has tickets-that I didn't know about, to your show.

Halo nods in understanding.

Halo Noel:

How did Gael get tickets?

He looks away in search of the boy as Lucian gets distracted by the commotion across the room.

Lucian Slater:

Gael?

He looks around frantically, then moves off to his left. Halo looks around, then follows Lucian into the crowd. They step to the front, spotting Gael in a separate section, enjoying a dance showcase. Men, dressed in traditional Arlingfell keftal; round, stiff skirts that punctuate the movement of their waists.

They dance in sequences and a formation so profound; Lucian is hooked. Gael stands at the front, cheering them on like the surrounding guests.

Halo Noel:

Strangely enough, it is called Deku. Arlingfellian dance of subtle ritualistic history. They established this in the first year my ancestors discovered Arlingfell Islands. Derived from many cultures that became the melting pot the country is.

Lucian Slater:

It's... appealing to watch.

Halo smiles, then avert his gaze to watch Gael. The boy stomps his feet, subtly mimicking some moves, offbeat, but practically. Halo raises his eyebrows, watching Gael's subtle movements become more punctuated and on-beat with the drumline that reverberates in the area.

Halo Noel:

First, he speaks Arab, the official language of the monarch, and now he has almost-.

He is interrupted when Gael hops in tandem with the dancers as they repeat the sequence. Lucian's lips curl into a smile, and he rocks to the beat as Gael becomes more in sync. Onlookers spot him, applauding, speaking in choruses of excited chatter when he becomes the centre of attention.

Halo Noel:

Look at him go!

He laughs in excitement, clapping as Gael moves closer to the stage. Motivated by the dancers who notice and starts a hyping chant. Two dancers run forward, jumping from the short stage to stand beside Gael. He is at first startled, but they smile at him as the dancers continue behind them. They lift Gael, who squeals in excitement as he sits atop the men's painted shoulders. They rock carefully, and Gael maintains an exemplary balance as his arms move in sync with theirs.

Lucian Slater:

What is happening right now?

Lucian laughs, moved by Gael's happiness as he rocks atop the shoulders of the dancers. He looks over at Halo, who is equally warmed by the scene.

Halo Noel:

This dance is traditional to the men of Arlingfell, but it is a reference to fatherhood and birthing bonds even if they aren't blood. Gael's excitement and eagerness, even his will to learn the moves, nurture that symbolism, so he is crowned Akubala. Meaning; Child of the Village. Cared for by more than just his parents and protected by the community. This charity event is to help children globally that are... not protected by their community.

Lucian nods, spellbound by Halo's explanation and the culture the man seems passionate about.

Lucian Slater:

I think that's the coolest thing I done heard in a long time, Angel.

Halo blushes, but he averts his gaze to watch the dance end. Gael is lowered to the ground gently, and the rest of the dancers surround him with cheers of applause. Gael soaks it up, nodding, smiling, shaking hands, and just exhorting an air of confidence.

Lucian Slater:

So, Gael and that kid Jessie have become close.

Halo looks over at Lucian, then smiles as his eyes stay glued to the crowd and Gael.

Halo Noel:

They have?

Lucian Slater:

Yes. He's always been a lone wolf, but this friendship opened up new avenues.

Lucian gestures with his arms at Gael, who converses animatedly with the dancers that surround him. Actions fluid and a clear sign of his passion. He points over at Lucian with a proud glimmer in his eyes.

Dancer One (In Distance):

Hey, dad! You got a solid one right here! Protect him.

The rest all cheer and agree collectively, and Lucian smiles proudly with a wave.

Halo Noel:

I agree. Gael is quite extraordinary.

He chuckles and Lucian smiles, and gone is the customary smoulder he wields.

Lucian Slater:

Why is my son's happiness so important to you?

Halo Noel:

He is the future.

Lucian frowns, biting his bottom lip in thought.

Lucian Slater:

Do you... want to like, have coffee sometime? I don't...

He trails off as Halo glances at him, composed, but his masked surprise conveys itself in his wobbly knees.

Lucian Slater:

I'm sorry. You're probably busy. Not to mention, this is probably unprofessional.

He waves Halo off.

Halo Noel:

I... was thinking about having a good burger after this. Any suggestions?

Lucian Slater:

Actually, Gael wanted Burgers for dinner.

Halo smiles as Lucian gestures, shy in his actions while wielding complete control.

Halo Noel:

Then I shall join if you would... have me.

Lucian Slater:

Really? You will not cite the rules?

Halo Noel:

The rules are there for a reason, but it is a Saturday night. We will keep the air of authority when I am on duty.

Gael Slater:

Mr Noel! There is a Patisierre. Did you see it!?

Gael appears, tugging at his jacket as he eagerly hops up and down, pointing across the room.

Halo Noel:

Yes, you have a good eye. And good taste.

Gael Slater:

You're the one with it at your showcase. Can you say awesome?!

Lucian pulls Gael away, and the boy protests with a groan.

Lucian Slater:

C'mon kid. Teach is busy with guests.

Halo Noel:

I will see you both soon.

Halo sweeps away, and Lucian smiles after him. Unaware that he is until he spots Gael grinning up at him with a suggestive glance.

Lucian Slater:

What?

Gael Slater:

Nothing.

The boy shrugs, then walk away to explore some more.

—

MARCH 20, 2013. | 6:56pm —

EXT. CHARLES STACY MUSEUM, BOSTON. FRONT ENTRANCE. NIGHT.

As the dusk settles and barely a shimmer of the sun peeks from the hills on the horizon, Lucian and Gael exit the museum. Valets and attendees stream back and forth, and Halo stands at the end of the line. Bidding every guest farewell, and handing out small, golden bags. Sheathed with black packing paper.

Gael Slater:

I bet those bags have invitations to the next show!

Gael turns to Lucian, and tugs on his jacket.

Gael Slater:

Can we go, dad?

Lucian barely acknowledges Gael, for he watches Halo, but he nods.

Lucian Slater:

Sure, buddy.

Just then, Calum Beauchamp appears. Primped in his black suit, with a white undershirt. A more polished look than his day-to-day. He whispers something to Halo, and the man nods. He then gives an apologetic look and waves to the guests then takes off. Lucian narrows his gaze, watching with a confused expression as Halo ducks into a black SUV. Flanked by two others that pull out before and behind it.

Lucian sighs, shaking his head in thought and some disappointment.

Lucian Slater:

C'mon, buddy. Let's go eat burgers and burst out of these fancy suits.

Gael Slater:

Hey, I don't know about you, but I look good.

The boy pops his collar, and Lucian throws his head back to laugh. He then places an arm around Gael's shoulder and leads him in the opposite direction of the valet station.

—

Lucian and Gael arrive at a clean, modern, and filled Burger joint, entitled Murphy's just three minutes later. Gael runs around the car and pulls at Lucian's hand.

Gael Slater:

C'mon, dad! They bring out more fresh bacon during the seven-o-clock dinner rush.

Lucian Slater:

Ok! Ok!

They enter the restaurant, and Lucian comes to a stop when he sees Halo. Standing up from a seat in the far left of the restaurant. He gives Lucian a shy chuckle and an awkward wave. Unable to sense the surprise on Lucian's face as anything else but that.

He walks over, taking each breath as he approaches.

Halo Noel:

My security team usually plans my routes to off-book locations according to traffic engagement.

Lucian Slater:

Security team?

Gael Slater:

He's like... really rich.

Halo chuckles at the comment, but he shakes his head.

Halo Noel:

I... get by.

Lucian Slater:

That's what people who are insanely rich say. Besides, it would explain all those fancy people and the way you dress every time I see you.

He smiles, and Halo shrugs, but he doesn't answer. He just blushes, face filled with excitement.

Halo Noel:

I should have consulted with you.

Lucian Slater:

I wouldn't have cared either way. You rich people always have other priorities.

Gael rolls his eyes and looks up at his father.

Gael Slater:

Dad, let's just sit down and eat burgers. Mr Noel came to this dump and he's rich.

Gael scoffs as Lucian's mouth widens and his gaze narrows in confusion.

Gael Slater:

Just give the guy a chance.

The boy rolls his eyes and skips over to the table, then picks up a menu. Equally shocked, Halo looks on at the boy. When he glances back at Lucian, the man avoids his gaze. Partially maddened with embarrassment and guilt.

Halo Noel:

Apologies. I was under the impression that you had invited me. I see now that that assumption was a mistake.

Lucian Slater:

Look, I just think you don't have to waste your time for the likes of us.

Halo nods, looking just as embarrassed.

Halo Noel:

I cannot be what you want me to be, and I do not intend to try and change your mind. I also need to apologize for imposing myself on your night, and if you feel so strongly about it, then I will leave you to it.

Lucian opens his mouth to protest, but Halo raises a hand. He drops it, sighing cumbrously.

Halo Noel:

I would rather be hated outside of your presence than in it. Sorry again.

MARCH 20, 2013. | 7:47pm —

INT. SILVER RIDGE HEIGHTS. SLATER RESIDENCE - LIVING ROOM. NIGHT.

Lucian Slater:

Gael-.

He stops when Gael runs up the stairs, ignoring him completely.

Lucian Slater:

We'll see who's upset when you get hungry later!

Lucian pouts, then shake his head with a sigh. The doorbell rings loudly, and he turns back to the door with narrowed slits. He opens it and his eyes go wide when he sees no other than Lucas Chuck. Looking just the same as the last day they saw each other. The first thing he notes, is the expensive jeans, colourful kicks, and a jacket way out of his tax bracket.

Lucas Chuck:

Before you get upset and slam the door in my face, just know, that whatever that bitch told you, is a lie.

Lucian Slater:

Is that so? Because she said you took something from her.

Lucian crosses his arms over his chest, planting himself in the doorway.

Lucas Chuck:

Yeah, she confronted me about some drive going missing. She can't even say what's on this drive.

Lucian Slater:

Did you take the drive?

Chuck scoffs and pushes past Lucian to stroll into the living room.

Lucian Slater:

Chuck, this is serious, man. The police came looking for you.

Chuck plops down onto the couch and lets out a sigh.

Lucas Chuck:

All I can say is, I made ten grand doing what she wanted me to do. A drive ain't valuable to me.

Lucian Slater:

Did you hear me?

Lucian storms up to the couch, baring down on Chuck with an expression of disapproval.

Lucian Slater:

The police came looking for you! So, if that's the case, please just... leave. I got my kid upstairs, man, I ain't never seen inside a jail cell, and I'll be damned if my son watches some cop put me in fuckin' handcuffs.

Lucas Chuck:

The police thing is sorted out, Luce. Just chill, and sit down. Offer your friend a beer. Maybe some of those cookies you always make?

Lucian fishes his phone from his pocket, and speed dials a number. After just two rings, a chirpy, high voice speaks into his ear.

Betty Barber (On Phone):

Hi, Mr Slater! I'm available tonight!

Lucian Slater:

Oh, well, ok, Betty. You can head over now. Bring your books. Gael needs a good distraction.

Betty Barber (On Phone):

You got it, Mr Slater!

Lucian Slater:

Come on.

He gestures to Chuck who raises an eyebrow at him.

Lucas Chuck:

We're going out?

Lucian Slater:

I just feel like I need to be seen out in public with you in case trouble comes back to bite me in the ass.

Lucas Chuck:

Dude, you're way too uptight for a dude that takes it up that tight ass.

Chuck stands, laughing boisterously, but Lucian rolls his eyes and turns to the stairs. He reaches Gael's room a short moment later, knocking on the door. He pushes it open, seeing Gael sit at the edge of his bunk bed, retrofitted with a desk and computer below the top bunk. Gael's head stays buried in an art book. A volume that typical children his age, would not challenge themselves to read or apply.

Lucian Slater:

Hey, buddy. I'm running out for a moment. Betty's coming over to babysit. You gon' be ok?

Gael Slater:

I'll be fine, dad. Was that Uncle Chuck I heard?

He turns to glance at his father who nods in response.

Gael Slater:

I'll be ok. I'm just searching for new techniques.

Lucian smiles at the boy, but he walks into the room and hugs Gael.

Lucian Slater:

I love you.

Gael giggles as he kisses his head, and moves away.

Gael Slater:

Love you too, pop.

MARCH 20, 2013. | 8:37 pm —

INT. THE TIPSY CACTUS. BAR. NIGHT.

—

LUCIAN sits at a sparse wooden counter, in a rowdy bar of men and women alike. Some watching a rousing game of American football, all with cups of alcohol to imbibe. Lucas props himself on a stool beside Lucian, eying the man.

Lucas Chuck:

Why are we really here, man?

Lucian Slater:

We're here because I need a drink, and I need you to tell me what the hell is going on.

Lucas smiles at Lucian knowingly, but he nods over the male bartender. After ordering, Lucian sits in silence. Waiting for Chuck to come clean, but the man diverts each prompt and dismisses each attempt with his own version of childish charm.

Lucas Chuck:

Ok, look. Whatever was missing from that safe was stolen before I managed to open it.

Chuck raises both hands in surrender, his chuckle easy and carefree.

Lucian Slater:

Excuse me if I don't believe what you're saying.

Lucas Chuck:

Twenty years of friendship, Lucian.

Before he can protest, Chuck's phone lets a short trill and he fishes the device from his pocket. His forehead wrinkles and his eyebrows furrow. A serious look encompassing his features.

Lucas Chuck:

I also have to run.

Lucian Slater:

Without an explanation as to why you ain't been to work?

Lucas Chuck:

No offence, Lucian, but since leaving I've managed to make more money than I do in a year at the shop.

Lucian frowns, but Chuck pats his shoulder. Ignoring the look of discontent on Lucian's face before circumnavigating the bar to leave.

Lucian turns in his seat, gaze pondering his joined hands atop the counter.

Across the bar, seated in a rather dark corner, is Liam Monroe. A swanky, young paralegal and law student, dressed appropriately in a primped grey suit, jacket strewn over the back of his chair. He painstakingly reads a file of names, a frown taking over his features. He shakes his head after a moment and stands. Gathering his files to stuff into his attaché case. He stands, then mills through the bustling room to approach the bar.

Just then, the tall, lanky bartender with a buzz cut and black t-shirt hands Lucian his drink. A dry, strong bourbon with a golden tint. He throws it back, grimacing at the bitterness that coats his tongue. He looks up when Liam drops his case atop the bar.

Bartender:

You look like you need another drink.

Liam smiles good-naturedly and sighs.

Liam Monroe:

What I need is a way to stop a plaintiff from citing his right to own a hundred damn guns.

The bartender whistles with a wince, and Liam nods with a light chuckle.

Bartender:

So you need something stronger than a dry martini?

Liam Monroe:

Nah. I'm just closing out my tab. I'm free and clear for a week, but I'm not exactly fond of you scraping me up off your floor in two hours.

Lucian chuckles under his breath and Liam glances over at him with a perturbed glance. Pondering why the stranger laughs, or rather why he was listening.

Liam Monroe:

Something funny?

Lucian Slater:

Don't be so serious. You made a joke, and I'm in close enough proximity to hear, so I laughed. It was funny.

He shrugs.

Bartender:

It wasn't really that funny. Admit it. You think my brother is hot.

Liam Monroe:

Neo, I will end you. Excuse him. He didn't take to house training.

Neo rolls his eyes and Lucian chuckles again, earning a glare from Liam. Neo laughs, but he places a shot glass down in front of Liam, sloshing with brown liquid.

Neo Monroe:

This one is on the house.

He winks at Liam who hesitates, but he spies Lucian glancing at him. Openly and without apology. Liam's lips twitch, but when Lucian smiles he visibly struggles to hide his own. He then picks up the glass and knocks the drink back.

Neo Monroe:

Was that so hard?

Liam Monroe:

I don't know. A stranger is staring into my morning.

Lucian Slater:

That's because your brother is right.

Lucian stands and downs the rest of his second drink. He taps the counter and throws Liam a winning smile as the man stares wide-eyed at him.

Lucian Slater:

See you around, bar floor pancake.

Liam gasps, but he chuckles as Lucian strolls away, and he poises himself to call out to the man.

Liam Monroe:

Hey!

Lucian stops and turns to face him, eyes narrowed and inconspicuous.

Liam Monroe:

Buy you a drink?

Neo looks surprised, and his lips open as he scoffs.

Neo Monroe:

Alright, little man got game.

Lucian Slater:

Maybe he does have game, but I haven't said yes yet.

Lucian smirks and Liam rolls his eyes, unable to suppress the laugh that rumbles in his throat.

Liam Monroe:

So, you're going to leave me hanging?

—

MARCH 21, 2013. | 10:10am —

EXT. FOREMAN PARK. STONE BRIDGE. DAY

Drake Moros:

Bea Larson, twenty-nine years old.

Standing tall and overweight with tan skin, Dr Moros has a thuggish feel about him with his soft black eyes and his short, straight, black hair worn in a pompadour.

Detective Nathan Moya, a looker with arms like canons and face like a hard, sexually charged Greek god, stands behind the on-scene medical examiner. Dressed in his casual attire of dark slacks, solid black loafers, and cuffed long-sleeved button-down tucked behind his badge hooked to his waist.

Half-covered by a body bag, Bea's ravaged chest is revealed. Nathan takes a second to gaze around the surroundings, minutely distracted by the overhang of trees. The steady trickle of the stream grows loud, but he brushes it off. Watching with narrowed eyes as officers in their uniforms case the area. A flurry of crime scene investigation.

The audible swish and pitter-patter of the torrent move below the old yet sturdy bridge erected as a landmark at least centuries before their existence. A wide trail carpeted with asphalt and shaded by a large concentration of trees. Lilly-white blooms dip to the ground with the smooth brush of the wind, with a peace disturbed by their intrusion.

Nathan Moya:

Cause of Death?

He peers down at the body again, a grimace crinkling his forehead.

— By the time he had arrived on the scene, most of the evidence that was found had already been processed. The medical examiner, his skilled team of technicians and forensic analysts, all worked towards finding proper evidence to proceed with a case. One with startling and uncomfortable implications.

Drake Moros:

All indications point to strangulation. The ligature marks on her neck and eyes...

Drake gestures to the faint, but visible blue lines around her throat and eyes.

Drake Moros:

... suggest that whoever strangled her, used something strong with a very smooth surface. There aren't any burn marks, so I'm thinking it's something coated with rubber or plastic. Sloppy but, I'm guessing she was in an inebriated state, so it was very effective.

Nathan Moya:

We'll be filing this under murder I'm presuming?

Drake nods.

Drake Moros:

Doubtless, considering the scratches on her neck. There's blood and skin under her fingernails, but I'm eighty percent certain it's hers. She put up quite a struggle, and in doing so, harmed herself by trying to release herself from her attacker.

Drake points to the scratch marks on her neck.

Nathan grimaces, peering into Bea's eyes that have gone pale.

Hunter Sloan:

This reminds me of that Novel about the nice dude who kills women, then throws them in the Lake at night.

Detective Herb Sloan saunters up to stand beside Nathan, offering a whiff of menthol and sandalwood.

— Detective Hunter Sloan, was a man of vigour. His reputation was as formidable as Garcia's, but he had earned his name. Despite his tendency to be overly talkative, and egotistical.

He's tall, broad shoulders, emerald green eyes, and thin nose adds to his simplistic, yet intimidating appeal. At least a decade older than Nathan, the man has wrinkles about his face. Hidden behind a nest of vibrant red hair, dashed with grey just above the ears.

With a frown, Nathan chooses to ignore Herb.

Hunter Sloan:

Damn. They really did a number on this broad. And she's a redhead too. I really hope they tan me when I die.

He grimaces, and Nathan whirls on him with a frown that could melt titanium.

Nathan Moya:

Aren't you supposed to be questioning witnesses?

Hunter shoots him a flushed gaze.

Hunter Sloan:

Hey, isn't she the broad that came in complaining about that Lucious guy the other day?

Nathan Moya:

Lucian Slater.

Nathan shakes his head, then sighs as he rakes his hand through his hair.

Nathan Moya:

And we need to go pay him another visit.

MARCH 21, 2013. | 2:57 pm —

INT. SLATER'S MECHANICAL WORKS. OFFICE. DAY.

LUCIAN closes a brown file jacket and leans back with a sigh. Ruffling his dusty overalls after a whole day of working double-time. He hears a clatter and stands at once when a figure moves through the shop. With only two employees in, doing drop-offs and house calls, it alarms Lucian.

Lucian circles his desk and steps out of the office. At the entrance, he spies Nathan Moya, passing him a serious gaze the second they make eye contact.

Nathan Moya:

So, Bea Larson was found in Foreman Park earlier

today. Dead.

The look on Nathan's face sparks realization, and Lucian shakes his head. He sighs as he approaches, and looks Nathan in the eye.

Lucian Slater:

You think Chuck did it?

Nathan Moya:

For now, we're pooling intel, so we can make sense of it. As for Lucas Chuck, he's... still in the wind.

Nathan hesitates, but he sighs.

Lucian Slater:

In the wind? I saw him last night.

Nathan raises an eyebrow, then shifts uncomfortably.

Lucian Slater:

Of course, he did claim to not know anything about some drive Bea think he stole.

Nathan Moya:

I'm gonna have to ask you to come down to the station, Lucian.

Lucian stares at him in surprise, but the look on his face melts.

Lucian Slater:

Ok, but look. I... have to pick up my son. He's gonna be expecting me.

Nathan Moya:

Look, I don't know what to make of this, but where were you between the hours of eight pm and five am last night?

Lucian Slater:

I was... with someone.

Nathan Moya:

Can they corroborate your story?

Lucian Slater:

It was a crazy night. Had too much to drink, and most of the morning was a haze. But trust me, liquor makes me... desire things which in retrospect are the complete opposite of murder.

Nathan Moya:

So, you hooked up with some girl; a stranger I presume, so it's harder to confirm your alibi.

Lucian nods, and Nathan purses his lips.

Lucian Slater:

Well, actually it was a guy. I'm openly gay, and I don't think we hooked up, but I definitely passed out in his bed.

He shrugs and Nathan chuckles at the man's nervous expression.

Nathan Moya:

Pronoun?

Lucian Slater:

He, him.

Nathan nods.

Nathan Moya:

Cool. Do you have anybody that can pick up your son? Because this is mandatory. The faster we get your official statement, the quicker you won't be a person of interest.

Lucian rubs his chin and lets out an awkward laugh. He shakes his head, slightly bothered by the thought.

Lucian Slater:

I... may have one friend.

He nods, but Nathan glances at him expectantly.

Lucian Slater:

Which I will call right now.

He chuckles nervously and fishes his phone from his pocket. He hesitates when he pulls up the contact. Mind running to Halo, and what he would make of his call.

He dials, waiting as he avoids Nathan's pensive gaze. The phone line clicks, and Halo's soothing voice rushes through the line. Settling a margin of calm over Lucian that makes his shoulders sag in relief.

Halo Noel (On Phone):

Mr Slater, hi. If you are calling about the trip, you should check your email on file. I've forwarded all-.

Lucian Slater:

I'm not calling about the trip, I already signed Gael's permission slip. The trip is a really good idea by the way.

He smiles unknowingly, but he sees Nathan's curious expression and clears his throat.

Halo Noel (On Phone):

Then, what-?

Lucian Slater:

I... need you to keep Gael for a couple of hours. Something... urgent came up.

Halo Noel (On Phone):

You... want me to watch Gael for a couple of hours?

Lucian Slater:

Look, Gael likes you, and after everything, you're the only person I can trust with my kid.

Halo Noel (On Phone):

Ok. Ok. I will... look after Gael.

Lucian visibly relaxes and his eyes close for a moment.

Lucian Slater:

I promise I'll explain everything.

Halo Noel (On Phone):

S-sure. Are you sure?

Lucian Slater:

Halo, please. You're... my only friend right now.

Halo Noel (On Phone):

Gael will be safe with me, Mr Slater.

Lucian Slater:

Look, I'm not asking you to be his teacher right now. I'm afraid this emergency is going to ruffle his feathers a little bit.

Halo Noel (On Phone):

Are you safe?

Lucian Slater:

Yeah, I'm safe, just keep him distracted? He's always raving about how you and he read and stuff.

Halo Noel (On Phone:

Call me as soon as you are free. Do you want us to meet you someplace?

Lucian Slater:

If all goes well, I'll see you at the house in about an hour or two.

—

MARCH 21, 2013. | 10:10am —

INT. JERRYMAR STREET. MONROE RESIDENCE. BEDROOM. DAY.

LUCIAN enters a small, neat kitchen, that opens up to a wide, luxurious living room. Liam stands at the stove, mixing a steaming cup of tea. He looks up, smiling at Lucian.

Liam Monroe:

Good morning, lightweight.

Lucian chuckles as he walks over, and Liam hands him the cup.

Liam Monroe:

Lemongrass. Tastes better than coffee.

Lucian Slater:

Thanks.

He raises the cup at Liam as he smiles and nods.

Lucian Slater:

I'm not exactly a fan of coffee, so this is a pleasant surprise.

Liam Monroe:

A pleasant surprise is you not using your drunkenness to try and have sex with me.

Lucian's gaze settles on the man, surprise and shock in his eyes.

Lucian Slater:

So we didn't...?

Liam shakes his head.

Liam Monroe:

Can't say I'm not disappointed, but through all that, you basically told me that you respected me too much.

He shrugs.

Liam Monroe:

I might not remember most of the night, but I woke up respectfully clothed.

Lucian chuckles and scratches the back of his head nervously.

Lucian Slater:

So, basically, I suck at one-night-stands?

Liam Monroe:

Maybe.

He shrugs and Lucian sips his tea, hoping to hide the deep blush in his cheeks.

Liam Monroe:

But you definitely don't suck at being a gentleman, and I'd rather have that than a hangover with a side of regret and maybe an STD panel in my medical history's future?.

Liam gives Lucian a nervous look and averts his gaze quickly.

Liam Monroe:

You also... said something in your sleep, which sort of makes sense.

Lucian Slater:

It wasn't about senior prom, was it?

Liam chuckles heartily, but he shakes his head. Lucian narrows his gaze in ponder, but Liam goes on.

Liam Monroe:

You said... I like him.

Lucian's expression falls, becoming increasingly more troubled as the awkward, silent seconds pass.

Lucian Slater:

I...

He scratches the back of his head, and Liam nods.

Liam Monroe:

I say, if you like the guy, tell him.

Lucian Slater:

That's ridiculous I don't like...

— Lucian goes quiet when a picture of Halo sparks in his head, or rather many pictures. After their time spent together, something sparked inside Lucian. Something he would gladly deny if it hadn't taken up his entire thought process.

Liam Monroe:

So, a guy does exist.

He smiles wryly, then sighs as he pushes away from the counter. He approaches Lucian with a smirk.

Liam Monroe:

Look, I'm not offended or anything by it, but I do feel like you owe me.

Lucian Slater:

How do I owe you?

Liam Monroe:

Well...

He turns away and fiddles with the still-hot kettle atop the stove.

Liam Monroe:

You did bait me into having a drink with you, then you basically took my breath away, then all hope of... this becoming more than just a one night stand just went poof.

Lucian Slater:

Look, didn't bait you, but I won't argue. I just...

Liam Monroe:

Tried to convince yourself you aren't pining for some guy obviously more handsome than me?

He grins cheekily, and Lucian laughs softly with a light blush.

Lucian Slater:

For what it's worth...

He glances at Liam and raises the cup to the man.

Lucian Slater:

You're a complete gentleman too.

They settle into a comfortable conversation until Lucian's phone rings.

Lucian Slater:

Thanks for the tea, but I have to take this while I go.

Liam Monroe:

No problem. Thank you for a night of witty banter.

Lucian Slater:

Don't mention it. Hello?

He answers his phone with a smile, but the announcement on the other end freezes him in place. Liam looks up, worried and slightly frazzled by Lucian's paleness.

Lucian Slater:

Hey, buddy. I know, but I'm headed home now. Did you get to school ok? How's Betty?

Gael Slater (On Phone):

Betty's fine! She did help me make lunch for me and Jessie. I don't think he gets enough lunch.

Lucian Slater:

I'm sorry, buddy, yeah that sounds like a good idea. How is Jessie doing?

Gael Slater (On Phone):

He's doing ok! But I have to go, dad! The next class is starting soon! I love you! Also, give Betty a raise. That girl deserves it.

Lucian laughs heartily and nods vigorously as if Gael can see him.

Lucian Slater:

I sure will. I love you too, baby boy.

Lucian smiles as he hangs up, and Liam walks him to the door. Watching him leave with longing and perhaps determination in his eyes.

—-