#i mean harris is also a decent bit off topic but like it’s not nearly as bad as the fucking monster

[antigerrymanderingspiderman]

i decided i should actually watch the presidential debate. i’m in pain

um so why won’t i just turn this off

[ambitionsource]

AMBITION Season 3 ♫ “Jolly Holiday, Part 1” [ 3.13 ]

CREATED BY Esther (waterstribe) & Maggie (quincywillows) || Official Page || AO3

GOD SAVE THE DREAM – The A class embarks on their senior class trip. Charlie graduates high school. The lingering wait for college admissions has some on edge, and one person receives difficult news. Lucas’s UC interview is thrown into jeopardy.

73 Minutes (36K words) || No content warnings apply.

[ ← Dylan and Asher ] [ S3 Synopsis ] [ Jolly Holiday, Part 2 → ]

( Follow along with the music on Spotify here! )

INT. AAA - ATRIUM - NIGHT

The Adams lobby is packed for a typical evening, members of the A class gathered with a decent amount of luggage. Some chat with their parents and pass off last-minute things; RANDALL ORLANDO hands DYLAN ORLANDO his passport, which he accepts with a sheepish grin while ASHER GARCIA heaves a great sigh of relief.

HARPER BURGESS weaves her way around with a checklist, greeting each student and marking them present. We continue even deeper into the school, away from the hustle and bustle…

INT. AAA - ERIC’S OFFICE - NIGHT

To the comparatively quiet counselor’s office, though ERIC MATTHEWS does not seem peaceful. He’s harried as he digs through paperwork at his desk, muttering to himself and stuffing everything into a pretty dense binder labeled “SENIOR TRIP - A CLASS.”

JACK HUNTER appears in the doorway, watching for a few moments with an amused smile on his face. Then he knocks lightly on the open door, leaning in the doorframe. Eric jumps, only making Jack smile wider.

Jack: So B class left for their trip this morning, A class is gearing up now… and how are you doing? You seem good. Relaxed.

Eric: Don’t even. Don’t start with me.

Jack, innocently: [ unable to stop grinning ] What?

Eric: B class was simple. B class was easy -- they’re always easy. We let them choose where they wanted to go, and what did they pick? Disney World. Easy. Stuffed them onto a charter bus and shipped them down the coast with Norton and the chaperones this morning. Easy.

Jack: Should get some good exposure to the industry. They’re doing the backstage tour, right? I’ve heard it’s illuminating.

Eric: Then we let A class pick, and did they go simple? Did they go easy? No. Because they’re never simple. They are never easy. No, they wanted to go abroad. [ with a withering look ] This is all your fault.

Jack: [ with a scoff ] Me? Why me?

Eric: You’re the one who approved the trip! Sure, let them cross the Atlantic, you said. It’ll be fun, Eric, you said.

Jack: And I’m sure it will be.

Eric: Yes, and easy for you to say, since you’re not going. I’m the one who has to make sure none of them die, or go missing, or violate international law --

Jack laughs, sauntering further into the room and reassuring Eric that it’ll be fine. Once they get through the logistical nightmare that is travel, they’re going to have a swell time. Besides, at least he’s not doing it alone.

Jack: You’ll be fine. You’re a great leader, and the kids trust you. You won’t let one get set adrift across the pond.

Eric: We literally lost two students at prom last year.

Jack: And now one of them is your daughter. Doubt she’ll be nearly as much trouble. And you’ll have Harper with you, who you know is an excellent chaperone. I mean, count your blessings -- at least you’re not traveling with Shawn.

True, true… talk about a negligent chaperone. Eric shudders at the thought, shaking his head and finishing securing his travel binder. Jack observes him and contemplates the best way to change topics. He leans forward casually against the back of the chair opposite Eric’s desk, going for nonchalant.

Jack: Speaking of your impeccable leadership… I’ve been thinking. You should consider applying for my job.

Eric stops what he’s doing. He lifts his head, eyes wide.

Eric: What?

Jack, quickly: I just think it could be a good exercise, that’s all. Good practice.

Eric: Don’t be ridiculous. You know they’re going to hand that job back to you no contest -- no matter how hard Yancy and Jefferson campaign under the table.

Jack: Sure, sure. Absolutely. [ a beat ] But that’s all the more reason to use this opportunity. I mean, you’re an ideal candidate, given your history with the school. Evelyn likes you just as much as me --

Eric: Not true. You are by far her favorite.

Jack: And you’ve got all the credentials. I know you like being a counselor, and don’t get me wrong, you’re damn good at it. But why take all those masters courses to get the certification if you never considered using them?

Jack has a point there. Though their paths were quite different leading to where they are now, with different levels of study, Eric is technically (and definitely) qualified to apply if he wanted. As for if he wants to… Jack’s guidance certainly seems to have him thinking, if nothing else.

Jack: Anyway, it was just a suggestion. No pressure, you know. Just think about it. Filling out the application. Seeing what it’s like.

Eric: As if I don’t have enough to think about right now. How is yours going? Pretty easy to put together I’m guessing.

Ah, yes… Jack sidesteps the question, claiming he’s just putting on the finishing touches. Which he’ll have plenty of time to do while the school is quiet and the A class is out of his hair for a week. Eric says lucky him, which prompts a chuckle from both of them.

Once the laughter peters out, the moment becomes unexpectedly soft -- just shared smiles and momentary quiet. Eric clears his throat.

Eric: You’re sure you can’t come? Think now would be the time to have my authoritarian.

A little vacation abroad would sure be nice… but alas. Important business to handle here. Jack offers a bittersweet shrug, nodding to the rest of the school behind them.

Jack: Duty calls. Should enjoy it while it lasts.

While he’s still principal, may as well act like it. Eric sighs, but accepts that, hefting his colossal trip binder into his hiking backpack.

INT. AAA - ATRIUM - DAY

By the steps, MAYA HART finishes repacking her suitcase, trying to get it under the acceptable weight limit. ISADORA DE LA CRUZ is doing her the favor of sitting on top of it, while FARKLE MINKUS eyes the undertaking skeptically.

Farkle: It’s a class trip, Maya. How many pairs of shoes do you need?

Maya: It’s an affront that you even have to ask that question.

Isadora: It’s an affront that this thing weighs more than me.

Farkle: Probably more than both of us combined.

Isadora: You don’t add much.

Touché! Isadora is also going through Maya’s purse, making a face when she pulls out a folded up piece of paper. Maya’s acceptance letter to NYU Tisch.

Isadora: You carry this around in your purse?

Maya: Be careful with that!

She snatches it from her, smoothing out the corners.

Maya: You’ll crumple the edges. But yes, why wouldn’t I? It’s my greatest achievement to date -- sans your mom’s coat, of course. I like to think of it like a good luck charm. My aura cleanser even did a fortune ceremony on it, so it’s legit. [ marveling at it ] Look at it. Isn’t it lovely?

She gives it a little kiss, folding it back up and putting it back in the purse on Isadora’s lap. Isadora and Farkle exchange a look.

Farkle: At this rate, getting rejected might’ve been healthier for your sanity.

Maya flips her hair over her shoulder pointedly, shrugging. Too late now!

A few paces over, RILEY MATTHEWS double checks her backpack to make sure she has all her essential belongings. It’s her first time going overseas, and she’s clearly a bit nervous. But she’s got her ways to combat it, including a well-curated list -- one that LUCAS JAMES FRIAR walks through with her as she goes. He reads down the list, she confirms she’s got it.

Lucas, notably, doesn’t have a backpack or suitcase to fuss over. That’s because he isn’t going, a fact that Riley sympathetically remarks on once they’ve concluded her checklist. She takes his hands in hers.

Riley: I wish you were coming with us. It’s not going to feel right if you’re not there.

Lucas: Actually, I think it would feel wrong if I were there. Like some kind of weird, nonsensical blip in the universe.

Riley: Oh, please…

Lucas: I’m not cultured and I don’t have any money. Traveling out of state seems pretty out of character, let alone out of the country. Think I’d get sent to the embassy as an international prisoner just for existing.

Riley nudges him pointedly, earning a smirk in response. It’s too cute not to mirror with a smile of her own, but it doesn’t quite remove the melancholy from her tone.

Riley: I just… I feel bad. You should be there, you’re class president. And you know… with everything that’s happened in the last few weeks, I don’t wanna like… just leave --

Lucas: Riley. Seriously, it’s fine. I’m fine. And spending some time on my own is not going to be the thing that kills me. That’s how I used to prefer it.

Riley: I know, I know… before Comet Riley.

Lucas: And the world has never been the same. Look, I know it’s gonna sound insane when I say this, given my track record on… well, everything, but you don’t have to worry about me.

Easier said than done… but she knows in her heart he’s right. And even if she wanted to debate it, she runs out of time, as Jack and Eric march out from the hall and start rallying the troops to head out for the airport. Big journey ahead!

Harper: All right, everybody, grab your things -- all your things, double-check and make sure, yes I’m looking at you, Orlando --

Dylan: And I don’t blame you!

Asher: I’m triple-checking.

Harper: Then let’s move on out! It’s a brief bus ride to the airport and then a long eight hours to fly. Don’t want to be late!

Riley gears up to go, Lucas grabbing her backpack off the ground and helping her sling it on her shoulders. She reminds him not to forget about the favor she asked him to do while she’s gone, which he confirms. Then she remembers something else at the last second, quickly turning to face him again.

Riley: Oh, and tell me the moment you hear anything from Davis. I know the connection is gonna be spotty because we’ll only be able to talk on wi-fi, but seriously, if you hear anything, try to reach me. They have to say something any day now.

Oh, so Lucas hasn’t told her about the acceptance letter... or the potential scholarship… he pauses when the moment arises, then nods, assuring her he’ll do just that.

Riley: I’ll try to do the same for Tisch, if I hear from them, but you know, again, spotty connections --

Harper: Let’s go, Riley! Mister Friar will still be here when you get back!

Riley blushes, starting to back up towards the others as Lucas playfully urges her to go. But then she doubles back one more time, pulling him into a kiss goodbye. The moment lingers when they pull apart, Riley gently caressing his cheeks and holding his gaze.

Riley, softly but with intent: I love you.

Just in case he needs the reminder -- to tide him over for the week. Then she’s off, throwing him one last smile over her shoulder and blowing a kiss before she jogs to catch up with the rest of the class towards the back entrance where the bus awaits.

Jack comes to stand next to Lucas, the two of them watching the others head out. Jack smiles knowingly at the exchange he just witnessed, and clears his throat presumably to comment.

Lucas: Don’t say anything.

Jack: … all right.

His tickled smirk says plenty for him anyway.

INT. JFK INTERNATIONAL AIRPORT - SECURITY CHECKPOINT - NIGHT

Before the fun can begin, though, they’ve got to get there -- and that might be the most stressful part. Eric waits on the other side of security and customs, counting off each student as they successfully make it through the process. He’s splitting his focus between that and making sure the ones who have already made it through don’t rush off.

Eric: Fourteen… fifteen -- techies, I said stay put until we’re all accounted for! Asher, will you please bring Nate back into formation? Sixteen -- Maya, do not argue with the customs agent!

Maya successfully makes it through, albeit in a huff, followed by SARAH CARLSON, DARBY WINTERS, and finally Harper to close out the group. She and Eric touch base.

Harper: Full count?

Eric: Full count. Thank God.

Harper: Well, at least the hard part’s over.

Eric: Yeah, keep telling yourself that. Just wait until we have to get them back in one piece.

They’re already exhausted. This should be international levels of fun.

Cue title sequence.

INT. JFK INTERNATIONAL AIRPORT - TERMINAL - NIGHT

Eric and Harper have disbanded the group to explore the terminal, gathering rations and any necessary items for the journey. The techie boys are assembled just outside the entrance of Hudson News, eyeing some of the stuff on display.

Jeff: Y’all brought outlet adapters, right? You know their voltage is different than ours.

Dave, stunned: The Brits have their own electricity?! I am never gonna survive the culture shock.

Yogi: [ re: “shock” ] Literally.

Nate: Oh, bro, I know. And what if we don’t speak the language?

Dave: I know! I’m fucked!

NATE MARTINEZ cracks up, JEFF MONROE and NICK YOGI assuaging DAVE WILLIAMS’s concerns.

Moving past them, closer to the gate where their flight will be departing from, we shift focus to ZAY BABINEAUX. Next to him YINDRA AMINO is engaged in a seemingly riveting conversation with HALEY FISHER and CLARISSA CRUZ, but Zay isn’t paying attention. He’s zoned out, glued to his phone instead.

He’s logged into his application portal for Turner. His status still says “pending,” even weeks later when many people have already heard back. He keeps refreshing the page, willing it to change, yet of course it does not. He sighs, swiping the window up and away and landing back on the previous app he had open.

His messages app, and a specific contact at that. His text thread with Charlie, which had been steadily growing back to a healthy rapport but has essentially gone silent since his Turner audition. Since Zay kissed him, like an idiot, and then ran away like a coward.

It’s clear Zay wants that to be different. He wants there to be rapport, to break the ice he stupidly created, but he’s at a loss for how. Not to mention, he kind of figured Charlie would say something… maybe that’s stupid, given it’s Charlie, but it feels wrong to be the one to bother him when he’s the one who encroached on their lines in the sand.

Just another thing frozen in time, stuck “pending.” Zay frowns, slouching further in his seat.

Riley comes to join him with food for them to share, plopping down in the seat next to him. He quickly locks his phone, but it’s honestly not even worth the rush -- with his obsession lately, she already has her guess as to what he was looking at.

Riley: I hate to be the one to deliver this news, but you realize we’re not going to have much access to wi-fi on the trip? You’re not going to be able to check your email obsessively while we’re there. Such a tragedy... 

Zay: Yeah, yeah, yeah. Gimme my French fries.

Riley hands them over, eyeing his leg impatiently bouncing a mile a minute. She remarks he’s got plenty of energy stored up now clearly, so good thing he’s finally clear to dance again. He snorts, derisively eating a fry.

Zay: Yeah, just when I needed it -- oh, no, wait. That was weeks ago…

Riley: Still, you’re happy, aren’t you? I know I am. I can’t wait to see you dance again for real.

Zay: You’re unfailingly sweet, thanks. And yeah, of course I’m happy I got the all clear. It really just feels like… I mean, if it could’ve been a couple weeks sooner --

Riley: But there’s nothing you can do about it now. It’s done. And if it took Turner this long to contact you --

Zay: Reject me.

Riley: Then there’s nothing to say it’s going to happen any second we’re abroad on this trip. All this to say [ pretending to pull a cord from his forehead ] disconnect. I think you’ll have more fun if you do.

Zay: Maybe.

Riley: Besides, it’s not like you’re the only one who hasn’t heard back. It’s not totally out of the norm. I mean, Lucas hasn’t heard from Davis, I’m waiting on Tisch...

Yeah… interesting how Riley seems so calm and unbothered by that. Zay points out as much, that she is handling the whole uncertainty thing remarkably well. She shrugs. It’s hard to tell if she genuinely isn’t that invested, or if she’s just keeping her expectations low to avoid disappointment.

Point is, they’re about to go abroad for the first time, so they should focus on that rather than getting stuck on all the stuff here. Zay doesn’t argue with that perspective.

Zay: Believe me, I’m more than ready to get away from things in New York for a while.

Nonchalant as that statement is, Riley is smarter than that. She raises her eyebrows, immediately asking what’s going on aside from Turner that he’s trying to avoid. Zay focuses on his food instead, which only tips her off more. And she had noticed that conversation between him and Charlie seemed to have died down in the last couple weeks…

Riley: Oh my God. Did something happen? [ with dread ] You’re not fighting again, are you?

Zay: No. And we were never fighting.

Riley looks more than ready to disagree with that, but Zay cuts her off. Every time she tries to dig deeper, he dodges, nuh-uhing her until she gives up. If there is something going on, he’s clearly not going to talk about it.

And he’s not the only one. At the gate, Isadora sits on her own, headphones on as she watches something on her phone. Eric sits down next to her and greets her, but Isadora doesn’t notice. With a sigh, Eric taps Isadora on the shoulder. She jumps and looks up at Eric with wide eyes, pausing the video and moving her headphones to rest around her neck.

Eric: Enjoying yourself? [ a beat; Isadora shrugs ] How are you feeling about everything? The last time you flew or traveled a significant amount was for Valerie’s funeral. 

Isadora, dryly: I really appreciate the reminder.

When Eric doesn’t move on, but instead continues to wait for a proper response, Isadora shifts from her sarcastic defense system to allow a bit of vulnerability. 

Isadora: It’s difficult. I only used to fly between LA and New York, either because she wanted me back or had given up on me again. I feel like I did back then -- will this time work? Will I be accepted and loved? I know I’m not going to see her, but my anxiety isn’t really listening to that fact.

Eric nods in understanding and says that he expected as much. He suggests that she continue to challenge the thoughts, and keep herself distracted. 

Isadora: Kind of hard when all your friends are talking about where to go to college and your dad is asking you how you feel about your mom being dead. 

Eric: Fair enough. Should I just leave you alone, then? Or do you want to play an airport game? Guess Who, I Spy, that sort of thing.

Isadora considers this. 

Isadora: We could try to name as many of the periodic elements as we can. 

Eric: Maybe we should find Farkle for that one.

As Eric looks around, Isadora chuckles and tells him that it’s fine. She’s happy watching a documentary about whether we’re all living in a simulation or not. Seems like a great way to distract from anxiety…

Eric leaves Isadora alone, passing JADE BEAMON and NIGEL CHEY as he goes. They sit together at the gate, across from Isadora, sharing a bag of candy and excitedly discussing what they’re going to do on the trip. Nigel is particularly enthused about one location on their itinerary, his nerdom on full display.

Nigel: I mean, it’s Stratford-Upon-Avon. Birthplace of Shakespeare!

Jade, fondly: I know, I know.

Nigel: You don’t go to Shakespeare camp twelve years in a row only to not appreciate the chance to see the holy ground. It’s like… pilgrimage.

Jade: And don’t I feel blessed to witness it. Think seeing you see it is going to be more interesting than the place itself.

Nigel shrugs bashfully. Jade splits a piece of candy in two and hands half to him, which he happily accepts.

Nigel: Gotta say, yeah, it’s extra special considering I get to see such an important place with such an important person.

Jade’s turn to blush. She concurs, though, the two of them agreeing a lot of the excitement for the trip is just in that they get to be on it together. They’ve got it all planned out, how they’re going to spend as much time as possible taking in the sights together. Nothing but experiences to have, culture to absorb… just the two of them…

Well, not quite. Their quiet conversation is interrupted as the techie boys descend upon them, loudly and enthusiastically pouncing on Jade from behind as they crash into the row of seats backed against theirs. She jumps in surprise, then makes a deadpan expression as they all immediately start talking at once.

Jeff: All stocked up for the trip.

Nate: Check it, Pins N’ Needs! Got enough jelly beans in these pockets to last a lifetime, baby! And I’m packing major Double Bubble.

Dave: Jeff helped me pick out a travel adaptation --

Yogi: Aren’t your pockets going to get sticky?

Nate: You let me worry about that. You just wait ‘til I start blowing bubbs at 30,000 feet.

Dave: [ holding out the adapter to show Jade ] So I don’t get zapped by the British electricity.

Jeff: They’re going to throw you out the emergency exit.

Nate: Good thing I’ll have my Double Bubble to keep me airborne!

Jade, sharply: Boys. [ off their silence ] Don’t you remember what we talked about before we left? That little agreement we discussed about this trip?

Nate, Dave, Jeff, and Yogi exchange a look, thinking… then their glances shift to Nigel. He looks overwhelmed, not yet used to the usual techie tot rapid-fire, but he offers an awkward smile.

Ohhh, right. Jade is with Nigel. Simple agreement -- leave her alone.

Nate: Oh, riiiiight. Right, right.

Yogi: Quite right, luv.

Jeff: Don’t mind us. We’ll just be over here. Minding our own business.

Nate: Looking the other way.

Dave: Leaving you alone so you can be with your boyfriend.

Dave! Not so loud! Nate and Yogi tug Dave around so they’re facing the other direction, feigning disinterest and leaving Jade be. She releases a long breath through her nose, then offers Nigel a smile. He was saying?

Flight attendant, voiceover: Attention passengers. Flight 0103 to Heathrow begins boarding in just a few minutes…

INT. AIRPLANE - NIGHT

Passengers clog the aisles and rummage around their seats as boarding resumes, all the way towards the back of the plane where the A class basically has domain over the last few rows. Riley, Dylan, and Asher take up a row of three, avidly chatting as they buckle in. Harper is helping direct them to their proper seats, noting that they’re welcome to swap seats with each other if they wish only once they’re settled and within their share of the plane.

That’s news to Nigel -- and good news at that. He perks up from his seat in front of Yindra and Zay (paired by the window on the left side), then makes eye contact with Jade still hovering in the aisle making her way down to board. Yindra gasps.

Yindra: No way. Nigel Chey, are you ditching us?

Nigel: You’re sitting together. I’m not. I’m the third front wheel.

Zay: But you’re with us in our hearts. You’d really toss us aside so callously to sit with your girlfriend?

Nigel: You are the last person who should be making that accusation, or did you forget freshman year? [ off Yindra’s snort ] But to answer your question --

Jade catches his eye, nodding her head towards a couple of seats just two down in front of Zay and Yindra. Nigel spots an opportunity as Isadora starts to settle in, leaping for it.

Nigel: Yep. See you in London.

Zay and Yindra boo him as he jumps forward in the aisle, getting Isadora’s attention and asking if she’d be willing to swap seats. She hesitates, then sees Chai coming down the aisle behind Jade, and something compels her to agree. Nigel happily passes off his ticket and settles into her spot, waiting for Jade to make it next to him.

Only somehow there’s a mix-up, and things don’t go quite as planned. Just as Jade arrives at their row, Eric pops over. He’s surprised Nigel is seated there -- he was under the impression Isadora was supposed to be in this seat, but he digresses -- and he explains that somehow his ticket got mixed up and he’s ended up in the middle of one of the four-seat rows in the center. But he’s an older gentleman, as they know, and he isn’t sure a cramped flight sitting like that for seven hours will be very healthy… so would Jade be so kind as to be willing to swap with him so he can have the aisle?

Well... what are they gonna do, say no to their counselor? Jade sheepishly agrees, spinning to look at where Eric says is his old seat. Naturally, it’s smack in the middle of the techie boys.

Jade: You’ve got to be kidding me…

She makes her walk of shame over to them, the boys greeting her enthusiastically. Jade! Pins N’ Needles, back at it again! Eric settles down into the spot next to Nigel, giving him a friendly smile. Nigel returns it weakly, then glances over his shoulder -- Yindra and Zay are silently laughing at him, giving him cheeky middle fingers. That’s what he gets!

And, despite her quick moves, somehow Isadora has ended up with Chai as her seat partner. Chai seems enthused about it, but Isadora less so. She kind of tunes out even as Chai tries to chat with her, curling closer towards the window. Chai can obviously tell this isn’t typical girlfriend behavior, and thinks about saying something, but Isadora pulls her headphones back on.

Not much to be done about that, then. Chai tries to brush it off as nothing -- just travel nerves, maybe -- pulling out her book.

In a pair of seats to the right behind Harper, Maya and Farkle are settling in. She’s being oddly snippy with him, putting on a thin air of aloof as she questions whether he’s accepted his admission to USC yet. Ever since she found out about the business card, she’s been prodding him about it every day.

Farkle: I haven’t made any decisions yet. For the thousandth time.

Maya isn’t satisfied with that answer. She curtly says -- not for the first time -- that if she had an opportunity flying into her lap like that, she certainly wouldn’t be hesitating to take it. It’s deranged, is what it is. Self-sabotaging, perhaps. Farkle rolls his eyes at her theatrics, leaning back into his seat and knocking his head back.

Farkle: This is going to be a long flight.

Maya: Farkle, darling, you’re my best friend -- it’s going to be a long life.

You got him there, Maya! And with that, we’re ready for take off --

EXT. AIRPLANE - NIGHT

Night passes and brightens to day as the airbus makes its way over the Atlantic, making a timely and early descent into the United Kingdom. As the pilot’s voice welcomes us to London over the intercom, we get our first sprawling, establishing shots of the commonwealth.

INT. HEATHROW INTERNATIONAL AIRPORT - DAY

The A class emerges through customs and gathers their things at the luggage carousel, grateful to be able to stretch their legs and move freely. Dylan does some cartwheels to loosen up -- guess the American circus really has arrived! Yindra and Zay pick on Nigel when they reunite with their bags. Did he enjoy his flight with Eric, his best friend?

Nigel: I will have both of you know that Counselor Eric is a lovely conversationalist. You can stay mad.

Oh, ho ho! Big talk! Eric passes him and thanks him for the compliment, embarrassing Nigel and causing Zay and Yindra to crack up. Then he beckons them all out towards the bus -- it’s time to kick this trip off for real!

EXT. LONDON - VARIOUS LOCATIONS - DAY

Song Cue ♫ ♪ “London Calling” as performed by The Clash || Performed by AAA Seniors

The A class file onto a double decker BUS as the guitar and drums start, a friendly if bland tour guide called SIMON greeting them once they’ve all taken seats on the open top deck. He’ll stay with them for the entire trip, but the double decker bus is only for today. 

They set off around the streets of London, the unofficial British anthem the soundtrack for our montage of them enjoying -- and exploring -- the views. They drive past the electric billboards of Piccadilly, Cleopatra’s needle, a large statue of Queen Victoria -- all the while taking pictures and listening to Simon’s narration of the city (which, perhaps thankfully, we can’t hear).

As they drive past Trafalgar Square, we cut to them exploring that same location. They’re sped up to match the tempo of the song and the chaotic nature that is tourist sightseeing tours. The techie boys sit atop the iconic lion statues while Maya, Farkle, Riley, Isadora and Zay walk in a line in unison to the beat, heads bobbing and knees bent like Madness in the One Step Beyond music video and cover art.

Back in the bus, we see that while Jade and Nigel managed to sit together this time, they’re both peacefully snoozing. Yindra laughs and takes a picture of them.

They pass the Tower of London and the Tower Bridge, then we see them arrive at the British Museum. 

Simon, flatly: I’m very excited to show you all the many things that British colonists stole from people all around the world and that we still refuse to give back to the rightful owners.

We see members of the A class posing in front of various different statues and artifacts throughout the museum -- Maya and Yindra with the Pharaohs of Egypt; Dave and Nate with the Easter Island head; Nigel and Jade with the Rosetta Stone; Farkle, Isadora, Riley, Asher and Dylan mimicking the poses of the Elgin Marbles as best they can considered each figure is missing a significant amount of limbs; Sarah, Darby and Chai in front of the painting Dancers Practising at the Barre by Edgar Degas.

We return to Trafalgar Square to see Nate being chased by two BOBBIES, one of whom is missing his hat. Nate shouts gleefully as he runs past his classmates, police hat proudly on top of his head. He provides the “ow ow ow owww!”

Eric struggles to keep up with the bobbies and pauses to catch his breath. Riley hands him her water bottle. 

The bus drives past Buckingham Palace while Maya teaches everybody how to do the royal wave. Then the Science Museum, which Simon seems more much interested in. Farkle and Isadora are hot on his heels. We see the enormous dinosaur skeletons, the great whale, the wacky mirrors that distort your image, the escalator that takes you up into the centre of a volcano.

By the time the class are climbing back onto the bus after the science museum, they’re full of energy, excitedly chatting while Harper and Eric drudge behind them. Simon, on the other hand, shows no signs of either energy or lack thereof -- or any emotions at all, really.

The class groove on top of the bus, dancing around and laughing together while Nate provides more wolf calls. They shout-sing the lyrics together, having the time of their lives. 

With the very last clash of the drums, Nate tosses the police hat back to the bobbies and sprints away with the other techie boys, cracking up. 

We’re in for one exciting trip, folks!

INT. AAA - JACK’S OFFICE - DAY

Back in the states, a perfectly normal school day at Adams is progressing as usual. Only the news that Lucas shares with Jack as they sit in their usual spots across from one another is far from it -- he informs him about his tentative admission to Davis, and that he’s up for a potential scholarship (something he sorely needs). Jack is stunned, then elated, nearly getting to his feet.

Jack: Lucas, that’s fantastic! Congratulations.

Lucas: Um, yeah. Thanks. I mean, doesn’t really matter if I don’t get the money, since I still haven’t made enough on my own and it’s going to take like, everything I’ve got either way, but --

Jack: But still. This is a major accomplishment. I know how hard you worked. You should be proud of yourself.

Lucas is obviously uncomfortable with the effusive praise, as nice as it is. So he brushes it off, shifting instead to the reason why he told Jack in the first place. He was hoping that he could give him a ride to his interview. It’s a ways upstate for some reason, and he’ll never be able to borrow the family car for that long.

Jack is, of course, more than willing to do so… until Lucas mentions the date.

Jack: Tomorrow? [ reluctant ] I’m sorry, I can’t. I already have a prior engagement.

Lucas: Oh… oh.

Well, shit. That’s what you get for hiding your small victories until the last minute. Jack frowns, obviously wishing he had a different answer.

Jack: I’m sorry. If I could shift around these plans, I would, believe me. But it’s not exactly within my control.

Lucas: No, it’s um -- it was my mistake waiting so long to -- no, yeah, it’s cool. Thanks anyway.

Jack: You’ll figure out something else, I’m sure. You’re nothing if not resourceful.

Lucas: Yeah… yeah, definitely.

But Lucas doesn’t seem very convinced. Jack can tell he’s deflated, but there’s not much he can say to improve the situation. Lucas escapes before he can even try, claiming he better get back to class -- he and Shawn have lots of work to do, sitting around doing nothing as the only two left.

EXT. LONDON EYE - DAY

The A class arrive at the final destination of their city tour: the London Eye. It looms above them, slowly going round against the London skyline. It’s a magnificent thing to behold, but the techie boys seem disappointed. 

Nate: Is this it? I thought it was meant to be the best ferris wheel in the world. 

Dylan: It’s barely even moving. Is it broken? 

Dave: Where’s the other eye? Is London a cyclops?

The tour guide listens to these complaints in horror. Eric can only mutter an apology, but Simon takes it in his stride and uses the opportunity to explain the history of the London Eye. Farkle listens keenly while Nate and Dylan ask as many ridiculous questions as they can. Leaving the class in safe hands, Eric and Harper go over to the ticket stand to collect their pre-booked tickets. 

Simon: Does anybody know how many capsules there are on the Eye? 

Chai: Thirty-three, right? 

Simon: Close, but not quite.

Isadora’s hand shoots up. Simon nods at her, allowing her to answer. 

Isadora: There are thirty-two capsules. When numbering them, they skipped thirteen for good luck, so they’re numbered one to twelve, then fourteen to thirty-three. There are thirty-two boroughs in London, so each capsule represents one of them. It’s a common misconception that there are thirty-three boroughs, but the City of London isn’t actually classed as a borough.

Simon: You’re exactly right, Miss De La Cruz! But I will kindly ask you not to take over my job in future. London is a very expensive place to live and I need rent money.

Isadora blushes but has a proud smile on her face. Next to her, Chai looks a little irritated at being shown up, given that she was the London transfer for a whole year. Rather than dwell on it, she returns her attention to Simon, who goes through the thirty-two boroughs that the capsules represent.

On their way back from the ticket stand, Eric and Harper pass a man with a basket full of roses.

Rose seller: What a lovely couple! Miss, wouldn’t you like your boyfriend to get you one of my roses?

He holds out a rose, smiling innocently. Harper and Eric meet eyes and struggle not to laugh.

Harper: We’re both gay.

The man falters, realising his mistake, and steps back to allow them on their way. He spots an actual couple walking towards the queue hand in hand, so skips over towards them. A smattering of the A class watches him go, having tuned out of the history lecture.

Yindra: What a guy. Wouldn’t want to have that job.

Zay: I wouldn’t spit on it. That might be you in Los Angeles in a few months.

Yindra elbows him pointedly. Asher shakes his head, watching the rose seller try to convince another group.

Asher: Could never be me. Walking up to strangers like that is a nightmare.

Dylan: Gotta respect the hustle. I love talking to random people. [ brightly ] Maybe I should do that.

Asher: Please don’t.

Dylan: I could sell my cookies. You’d buy food from a stranger on the street, right?

Zay: That’s what the hot dog vendors in Manhattan do every day and they’re considered a staple. Follow your heart, Orlando.

Jade: I don’t know about street food, but I would totally go for one of the flowers. Those roses are beautiful, look at them.

Nigel takes note of her reaction, but the moment passes pretty quickly. When Eric and Harper rejoin the group, focus drifts back to them. Simon finishes his list of boroughs and Eric takes over, announcing that they have to split up into two groups.

Eric: There would only be enough room for four more people if we were all in a capsule together, and since we didn’t specifically book to have one to ourselves, they’ve asked if we can split up so that we don’t prevent other, smaller groups from being together. 

Maya: That can’t be right. I remember specifically requesting we had a capsule to ourselves in my proposal for the trip schedule.

Eric: If you want to fork over the extra cash, then sure thing.

Maya admits defeat. Eric announces that he’ll take ten of them, and Harper will have nine. But aside from that, they’re all mature enough to sort out the groups themselves.

That’s giving them a lot of credit. Haley and Clarissa cling onto each other for dear life as everyone begins moving around. They stand in front of Harper and stay there, determined not to get split up. Jade and Chai both have the same idea, each trying to get a hold of Nigel and Isadora, respectively. Chai successfully ends up standing in front of Eric along with Isadora, Darby and Sarah, but Jade and Nigel are less fortunate. Yindra loops her arm through Nigel’s and moves him over to Eric’s side where Zay is waiting, while Dave rests his chin on top of Jade’s head, anchoring her to her place by Harper.

Riley, Dylan and Asher are chatting merrily in Eric’s group, while Maya and Farkle are still undecided. Farkle is happy wherever, but Maya is having a hard time picking between being stuck with Dylan and Asher -- but having Isadora, Riley and the plastics -- or being with the rest of the techie boys. She decides that she can just stay on the other side of the capsule as Dasher, and walks towards Isadora and the plastics.

While Maya moves towards them, Isadora realises that she will take them up to eleven, meaning somebody will have to move. Neither Eric nor Harper have realised that Eric’s group is already full. She looks between Chai, who has her back to Isadora while she chats with Darby and Sarah, and Farkle, who frowns as he realises the same thing about the numbers.

He’s about to speak up and call Maya back over to Harper’s side, but Isadora uses the opportunity to get away from a potentially uncomfortable situation and darts over towards him. She grabs Farkle’s wrist and pulls him properly into Harper’s group before he knows what’s happening.

When Maya joins Darby and Sarah, she realises that Isadora is no longer there and turns around. Chai notices the same, both of them frowning in confusion at Isadora. She avoids eye contact with both of them, turning and letting Harper know that the groups are done. 

Harper: Oh, thank you Isadora. Eric, I think we’re ready. 

There’s no chance for anybody to voice their displeasure at the arrangement, with Eric already setting off towards the queue. Farkle looks down at Isadora, confused and a little concerned. 

Farkle: What happened?

Isadora: Hm? Oh, I... noticed that Jade was the only techie girl on this side so I wanted to join her. Maya and I must have ended up swapping somehow.

Farkle doesn’t look convinced, but Jade mumbles a thank you while watching after Nigel.

As they join the queue, Simon waves the group goodbye. Once all of their backs are turned, his customer service smile drops. 

Simon, sighing: Americans…

Americans, indeed.

EXT. LONDON EYE - QUEUE - DAY

Now split up, the A class settles into distracting themselves while waiting in line. Yindra and Riley pass the time by playing I Spy, assuming incorrectly that Zay is paying attention and playing along. But he’s not, staring into space and lost in thought as the girls survey the scenery. It’s like they’re not even in another country -- Zay could just as easily be sitting in Cory’s history class, bored out of his mind, for all the energy he’s giving right now.

Yindra is quick to call him out on it, raising an unimpressed eyebrow when her gaze settles on him during her turn.

Yindra: I spy with my little eye something short, yellow, and boring.

She snaps in front of his face, snapping him out of it. He swats her hand away, Riley laughing along as they point out he is completely on another planet.

Zay: Also, don’t insult me -- this shirt is gold, not yellow. Get it right.

Riley: I thought we agreed at the airport that we were going to live in the moment. Seize the day. Enjoy the trip and not get lost in our own heads.

Yindra: Please, don’t even bother. He’s been like this for weeks. At this point, I’m begging for Turner to get back to him so I can be put out of my misery.

Zay: Look, it’s easy for you to say, all right? You can afford to be chill about it, you don’t have a dream school.

Yindra: That’s right. You know what I’ve got? The dream. And at least in chasing that into the uncertain future, I’m not totally dialing out of right now. Like, we’re in London, Zayby. Drink some tea. Take the tube. Kiss a dude with an accent. Carpe diem.

Yeah, okay, Zay will not be doing that. And he doesn’t need the reminders or reprimands. He gets it, they’re in London, they’re in London, they’re in London… but what does locale matter, really, when your heart, mind, and soul feel thousands of miles away? Always tantalisingly out of your reach?

Suffice to say, it’s not going to be so easy to pry Zay out of his own head -- so for now, well, we’ll just have to go into it with him.

Song Cue ♫ ♪ “The Kiss of Venus” as performed by Dominic Fike (feat. Paul McCartney) || Performed by Zay Babineaux

As the music-box-like opening twinkles in, Yindra waves Zay off and gives up on him, letting him drift back into space. And he does, directing his gaze upward towards the giant ferris wheel and the skyline of London behind it.

Yep, they sure are in the UK… as he sings the first opening lines, somewhat detached, we slowly ease in closer to his face…

EXT. LONDON EYE - MIRROR WORLD - DAY

Until we’re close enough that it’s darkness and a blur, then we’re pulling back out, still with Zay as he continues to sing -- only everything’s flipped around. We’re occupying his mindscape, free from the conventions of reality, and with a lot of new ground to discover. He starts walking backwards on the beat, his trendy kicks stomping against the pavement, quickly reminding us that he finally, blissfully has full control of his limbs again.

And with that beautiful fact being the truth, it doesn’t take long for him to break into dance. He launches into movement as he breaks into the first chorus, the scenery of London taking more vivid shape around him.

From there, the performance acts as an artistic, groovy snapshot of this new city we’re suddenly inhabiting. Zay explores iconic landmarks and imagery of London as he goes -- dancing along the edge of the fountain in Trafalgar Square; grooving unapologetically in front of the stone-faced Queen’s Guardsmen stationed in the city; riding center in a crammed tube carriage and staring dead at the camera as he sings.

About a minute in, we’re close on his face again, and he seems to be laying down facing up at us… and as we ease out, we realize he’s not just laying in any old place. He’s on the clock face of Big Ben -- yes, the Big Ben -- his limbs mocking the movement a second hand. As the bridge continues, the screen slowly starts to tilt upright, Zay adjusting with it until he’s balancing sideways on the structure.

And this launches us into the electric second half of the number, where he really leans into the energy, fantasy, and freedom of the performance. Each of his sceneries becomes a little less restrictive and more bent to his creative will -- the tube carriage is empty now, allowing him to swing on the hand rails and climb along the seats; he’s splashing and spinning in the water in the Square; he’s now dancing amidst the whole brigade of the Queen’s Guard as they run through the changing of the Guard at Buckingham Palace.

In case the message wasn’t loud and clear already -- we’re in London! We get it! More importantly, it’s so good to see Zay Babineaux moving again. Even as the song peters out and we return back to mundane, rules-of-physics-following reality, there’s a lingering energy from the mere sight of seeing him dance that sprinkles a little more magic into the scenery than before.

INT. LONDON EYE - CAPSULE 1 - DAY

Farkle is getting a good look at the view of the city from so high up, Isadora coming over to join him. She asks if it looks any different from the last time he was here, and he admits he honestly can’t remember. It was a long time ago that his family visited. He asks her a question in return, wondering aloud why she isn’t on the same capsule as Chai.

Farkle: You’d think you would’ve fought a little harder to stay together. You know, given that she’s your girlfriend.

Isadora: [ with a scoff ] It’s not my fault the class got split up. What would you have me do? Bully the tour guide into letting me jump groups?

Farkle: You have bullied less deserving people for less pressing things.

Isadora: No clue what you’re talking about. I’m a fucking delight.

Farkle snorts, earning a playful sneer from her. As charming as her deadpan delivery is, Farkle isn’t completely won over by it. Because what it really signals is that she’s avoiding answering the question, which isn’t like her at all. Farkle tries to dig deeper, asking if everything is okay between her and Chai.

Isadora: Yes. Yeah. Duh. [ defensive ] Why wouldn’t it be?

Farkle: Maybe the fact that you’re standing in this carriage arguing with me rather than enjoying time with her.

Isadora: As if bickering with you isn’t the joy of my existence.

Farkle: I’m not trying to like, judge, or whatever. I’m just asking if --

Isadora: What do you want me to say, Farkle? I said it was fine. I mean, what, do you want there to be a problem? Do you want me to tell you everything’s gone weird and I don’t know how to fix it?

Dangerous questions, Isadora! Don’t ask something like that! She’s asking it in a rhetorical way, totally unaware of the fact that Farkle doesn’t know how to honestly answer that question -- to her, or for himself.

Lucky him, he’s spared from addressing it when their conversation is interrupted. An ELDERLY WOMAN -- the kind who can’t help but share their opinion in an overly friendly way -- breaks away from her ELDERLY HUSBAND to tell them their back-and-forth is really quite loud.

Farkle: Oh, sorry about that. We’ll quiet down.

Woman: Oh, no no! Don’t mind me, loves. I find it a bit amusing to be frank -- reminds me of me and my husband here. We can bicker up a storm.

Husband: [ making her point ] No we don’t.

Woman: Married fifty-seven years, if you can believe it. [ cheerfully ] You two make an adorable couple.

Um? The two of them exchange a look, Isadora bewildered and amused whereas Farkle seems slightly panicked.

Isadora: We’re not --

Farkle: It’s not like that, we’re just --

Woman: [ ignoring their protests ] Do you want a picture? The backdrop of the city really can’t be beaten from this angle. It’s so gorgeous, isn’t it?

God, old people… really can’t keep up with them. Farkle stammers, searching for a polite way to reject the well-meant but misguided offer. But Isadora surprises him even more.

Isadora: Sure.

Farkle stares at her as the woman chirps happily, needling her husband to come take the photo because he has less shaky hands. Isadora passes over her phone, only noticing Farkle’s expression when she steps closer for the photo. She shrugs.

Isadora: What? A picture’s a picture. Might as well preserve the memory, right?

Well… yes… but… hard to argue with that. Farkle relents, still a bit stiff, but he’s not going to pass up the opportunity for a keepsake when Isadora is rare to photograph as it is. He manages to pull together a smile as they huddle together and he drapes an arm around her shoulders. His gaze lingers on Isadora as she steps forward to retrieve her phone, thanking the nosy tourist.

INT. LONDON EYE - CAPSULE 2 - DAY

Speaking of nosy women, Riley is taking some photos of her own. She’s capturing as much of the view as she can in her phone, but it obviously can’t replace the real thing. She seems dissatisfied by that fact, only pulled out of scrutinizing her work when Asher stumbles over to join her. He blindly finds the rail and holds onto it for dear life, eyes screwed shut.

Riley: [ with a chuckle ] What are you doing?

Asher: I’m such an idiot. I’m an idiot, Riley -- you are Riley, right?

Riley: Yes, rest assured. I’m actually surprised you’re on this. Aren’t you scared of heights?

Asher: Yes. Yes, I am. But I thought, why not, what better a time to conquer my fears. Gonna be doing a lot of it in the next few months, might as well start now. When in London, right? Wrong. So, so wrong.

Riley aws in sympathy, patting his back and then looping her arm through his to help brace him further. She focuses on distracting him, explaining that she’s trying to take as many photos as possible to show Lucas when they get back. She knows he said he didn’t care, but…

Asher: No, no, I think that’s nice. He’ll appreciate it. You know Lucas claims he doesn’t care about everything when he actually does like seventy percent of the time.

Riley: Yeah. I mean, he honestly probably won’t care much about the London stuff.

Asher: True. He barely tolerates Manhattan.

Riley: But later in the week when we go to like, the parks and the nature reserves and stuff… you know he’d love that. He’d act like he wasn’t into it, but he so would be. So I’ll just try to bring as much back to him as I can.

Asher: For sure. He’s lucky he has you.

Maybe it’s the crippling anxiety talking and blocking his usual filter, but Asher usually isn’t one for such casually stated declarations, so Riley takes the sentiment to heart. It’s nice to hear Lucas’s best friend say something so validating. She smiles to herself.

Riley: Anyway, I’m planning to show the pictures to Charlie, too. He loves travel and history and that sort of stuff, so I’m sure he’ll want to see all of it. So either way, won’t go to waste.

Asher: Oh, yeah. Sucks that he didn’t get to come after three years of sticking out of the worst of what Adams has to offer.

Yeah… a lot of things have felt that way with Charlie this year. But he’s got plenty of his own going on this week while they’re traipsing across the pond.

As the gentle, unassuming guitar floats in…

INT. GARDNER HOME - CHARLIE’S BEDROOM - DAY

Song Cue ♫ ♪ “New Start” as performed by Weary Friend || Performed by Charlie Gardner

CHARLIE GARDNER’s soft vocals drift in as we settle in his bedroom. A couple of boxes have cropped up in corners of the room, one of them labeled “donations.” Inside are discarded pieces of the Haverford uniform, the first willing sacrifice to the specter of college packing.

And I’m packing up and I’m moving out And I’m walking across the stage into a world that I’ve never seen

On the back of Charlie’s desk chair, a pale blue graduation gown is folded -- on the desk, his cap and high school diploma.

So it’s done. A graduation come and gone, just like that. When everyone else was halfway across the globe -- another important walk made alone.

EXT. GARDNER HOME - CHARLIE’S BALCONY - DAY

On his balcony, CHARLIE GARDNER is seated with his guitar, delicately strumming through the notes. He’s dressed plainly in a tee shirt and jeans, not dressing to impress or concealed behind a uniform, and his hair has grown back out long enough that pieces of it are falling in his face as he focuses on the strings. Despite the mixed emotions of the song, he appears at ease -- honestly the most relaxed he’s looked in months. No more selling himself for applications, no more blackmailing peers.

And they ask me where I’m going And they ask me what I see ahead But if I’m being completely honest…

The threats of the past are done now. All that’s left is the daunting uncertainty of the future. Charlie pauses for a moment, taking a breath… then he exhales into the final line of the verse.

I can’t see a thing

INT. HAVERFORD PREP - AUDITORIUM - FLASHBACK - DAY

As the performance continues, a flashback allows us to actually see Charlie graduate. He rises the steps to the stage and crosses with a bashful smile to accept the diploma from AARON JACKSON. In the audience, ELEANOR GARDNER watches with tears in her eyes, AMBROSE GARDNER applauding proudly next to her.

Charlie glances towards them as he begins his exit from the stage, smiling wider when he locks eyes with ROSIE GARDNER. She’s applauding too, trying to look unimpressed, but she can’t hold back her smile. AGATHA GARDNER and DAISY GARDNER are also present, cheering along.

As he disappears into the darkness of the wings --

INT. DANCE STUDIO - FLASHBACK - DAY

At about two minutes in, Charlie emerges into an empty dance studio at a local fitness center, flicking on the lights. Plain-clothed, free for the summer, left to his own devices.

No one else around to follow. No group choreography to adhere to, no brotherhood to obey, no expectations. But he wants to dance. He wants to reconnect, find that piece of his identity again.

So he does. Slowly, imperfectly, but it’s a new start. As the music swells into the orchestral middle, Charlie rediscovers dance, pursuing and practicing the art solely for himself.

INT. GARDNER HOME - CHARLIE’S BEDROOM - FLASHBACK - NIGHT

At the same time, intercut with the lyrical, improvised choreography in the studio, Charlie starts the strange process of going through his stuff in preparation for college packing that we see in progress in the present. He discards his Haverford stuff, tossing it haphazardly into the donations box.

It gets harder, though, when the decisions aren’t so surface-level. Like old photographs, books, notebooks from Adams with notes in the margins -- nervous notes to self, scribbled conversations with Clarissa and Haley, teasing doodles and messages in Zay’s chicken scratch from studying together.

It’s easy to discard the things you’re ready to let go of. The rest, not so much.

INT. DANCE STUDIO - FLASHBACK - DAY

As the orchestration winds down, Charlie finishes a fouette turn and lands without stumbling -- a promising sign if anything. He lowers himself into a sitting position, then exhales a breath and falls onto his back, laying in the center of the dance floor and staring up at the ceiling.

I used to think that when I was grown up I’d have my life figured out I’d know exactly who I was, I’d be set in my ways not needing to change

INT. OLD DANCE STUDIO - FLASHBACK - DAY

In a different studio, dated and decorated like the late 2000s, a YOUNG CHARLIE GARDNER lays at the center of the dance floor the exact same way, staring up at the ceiling. Smaller, geekier, yet doing the same cool down, centering routing. Finding solace in the quiet of the studio even so many years ago.

But now that I’m here, I feel more like a child Still learning my lessons and needing direction Still needing direction…

EXT. GARDNER HOME - CHARLIE’S BALCONY - DAY

As the piece swells into the final crescendo, Charlie leans into it, emotional and vulnerable. Many pieces come together in tandem with his simple vocals on the balcony, interweaving around one another. Photographs of him as a kid on the mantle in the living room, the same ones he scrutinized at the start of Season 2 during “I Hope I Get It,” now share space with his senior portrait. He continues to dance solo in the community center studio, while his younger, less polished self does the same.

He brings it all to a close back on the balcony, letting the final chords reverberate for a moment before he releases the strings. For a moment, he stays still and enjoys the quiet, the slow bleed of the familiar soundscape of the Upper East Side returning to focus around him. The distant echo of traffic. The coo of neighborhood birds. The chatter of neighbors down the street.

His home, for at least a little while longer -- before he ends up who knows where. Then he releases a sigh, taking his guitar and stepping back inside his bedroom.

EXT. LONDON EYE - DAY

The A class recongregates on the sidewalks, Riley’s group still trickling in from being released from the wheel. While Eric and Harper avidly attempt to head count and take attendance, Maya greets Farkle as he returns. She asks what he thought about the view.

Maya: Like, it was nice and all that, but eh. I’ve seen better.

Farkle: It was cool. Someone even took a picture of me and Isadora.

Maya: Oh? Paparazzi already.

Farkle: Yeah. She said we made “a cute couple.”

Maya cracks up, shaking her head. She takes his hand, patting it with her own.

Maya: Oh, Farkle, sweetie. No one would say that to you.

Farkle holds out his free arm in indignation. Well, it happened! Still, Maya remains unconvinced -- and thoroughly tickled.

INT. LONDON HOTEL - RILEY’S ROOM - NIGHT

The rooming arrangements for the trip are… unique to say the least, considering Eric had to balance gender, sexuality, and a handful of romantic entanglements that he’s trying not to enable. That explains how Riley, Isadora, and Dylan ended up as roommates, though they seem more than content with the grouping.

Well, at first Isadora does, until her chatty roommates shift onto topics she’d rather not discuss. It starts with college, a reality she’s trying to ignore, as Riley points out this whole exercise in travel is probably good for a lot of them in preparing for whatever journeys they’ll make for the future. She also notes it’s good practice being away from Lucas with this kind of time difference -- if he goes to Davis, like she’s hoping he will, they’ll be dealing with this distance all the time.

Dylan: Totally. But you guys are going to be fine. You’ve never been like super clingy or anything. And you’re already used to him being a terrible communicator even when he’s right in front of you. Won’t have to worry that distance is causing that when you know he’s like that all the time.

Isadora: That is actually so true.

Dylan: I think the much more pressing question is how are you ever going to survive being away from me? When I’m all the way in Rochester, a whole five hours away?

Riley: I know, you’re so right… well, I guess I just have to get my fix now!

Riley surges forward and tackles Dylan with a hug, the two of them collapsing into a giggly heap on their bed. Isadora eyes them, rolling her eyes affectionately. Once they’ve rearranged themselves into some semblance of a cuddle pile, Dylan conspiratorially continues the conversation.

Dylan, jokingly: Do you think Lucas would be jealous that I’m sharing a bed with you?

Riley: Considering you’re the gayest teen in Manhattan and are happily dating his best friend? No, I think he’ll live. [ coyly ] Besides, believe it or not, Lucas and I have shared a sleeping space… more than once already.

The statement itself is factual, nothing objectionable about it, but the message is all in Riley’s mischievous delivery. They may not have had sex yet, but the extracurricular implications are clear enough even Isadora catches on. Dylan gasps in faux shock, which Riley rolls her eyes at.

Dylan: OMG… Miss Riley...

Riley: Which you already knew.

Dylan: [ another gasp, then a beam ] I did. I did already know that actually.

As cute as Dylan and Riley’s friendship is, their comfort and casual intimacy in talking about sex is pretty much the last thing Isadora wants to hear. The context of Lucas and Riley is bad enough when she has to confront it, but on top of her own recent choices, she can’t stomach it.

Isadora: Are you going to be like this all trip? If I knew I was getting Elle Woods’ sorority sisters for roommates, I would’ve asked Eric to switch my room assignment.

Yikes. Dylan and Riley quiet down immediately, exchanging an uncertain look. To engage or not to engage… just as Riley opens her mouth to ask if everything is okay, there’s a knock at their door. Dylan climbs up to get it, pulling open the door where Chai is waiting on the other side.

Perfect timing… Isadora immediately gets to her feet, Dylan offering Chai a smile before stepping back to make room. He goes and rejoins Riley on their bed as Isadora approaches the doorway, the two eyeing the couple with interest and sharing another tacit exchange.

INT. LONDON HOTEL - CORRIDOR - NIGHT

Isadora steps out into the corridor, shutting the door gently behind her. Chai gives her a smile, but it’s tight and doesn’t reach her eyes. 

Chai: Thought I’d come by and say goodnight before lights out. 

Isadora: Oh, okay. Goodnight.

Isadora begins to turn, but Chai reaches out and places a hand on her arm to stop her. Isadora flinches at the unexpected contact, pulling her arm away and rubbing the spot where Chai’s hand was.

Upset, Chai crosses her arms. She tries to start a conversation, but her heart isn’t in it, and she can tell that Isadora would rather be talking to anybody else. 

Chai: Are you okay? You haven’t been like yourself. 

Isadora: Probably just jetlag. I’m super tired. 

Chai: Yeah, maybe. [ a beat ] But you haven’t really been yourself for a while now. Are you sure --

Isadora, snapping: You haven’t really known me that long, though, have you? You’re not my therapist or Eric, so please don’t pretend like you know what’s going on with me.

Ouch. Chai is taken aback, unable to hide the hurt on her face. Isadora realises what she said and exhales, trying to take a step back from her emotions.

Chai: I wasn’t trying to --

Isadora: I know, I’m sorry. Like I said, I’m really tired. I’ll be better once I sleep.

Chai nods, unsure, but figures it’s best to just leave it. She bids Isadora a quiet goodnight and leans forward to place a gentle kiss on her cheek, but Isadora doesn’t notice this and turns to open the door. Familiar feelings of being invisible and ignored cause Chai’s eyes to gloss over as she walks away.

INT. LONDON HOTEL - NIGEL’S ROOM - NIGHT

Nigel is getting his stuff ready for tomorrow, Nate and Jeff debating something from the bathroom nook. Jeff quickly asks Nigel if he needs to use the bathroom before he takes a shower, which he claims he’s all good, and Nate declares he’s going to go adventure around the halls until the last possible minute before lights out.

Jeff: I’m sure Eric and Harper will love that.

Nate: It’s only like six in the evening in my New York brain! What do they expect me to do, go to sleep? We’ve got hours before I hit that wall.

Oh, Nate, is the jetlag gonna come for you… but no stopping him for now. Jeff ducks into the bathroom and Nate disappears into the hall, leaving Nigel alone in the room. He settles onto his bed, absorbing the uncharacteristic quiet for a moment… then he gets an idea.

He leans over and pulls the hotel phone towards him, picking up the receiver and looking for how to find the right number...

INT. LONDON HOTEL - TECHIE ROOM - NIGHT

For as much as she planned to take a break from them this trip, Jade remains stuck with a majority of techie boys as her bunkmates. Dave and Yogi have claimed one bed while she’s planning to share the other with Asher, though at the moment she’s searching for a semblance of peace and quiet by brushing her teeth in the bathroom nook.

Dave pokes his head around the doorway, quietly asking if she’s okay. Jade spits out her toothpaste then raises her eyebrows.

Jade: Yeah? Why wouldn’t I be?

Dave: Well, you said you wanted to spend less time with us this trip.

Jade: I didn’t say it like that.

Dave: But here you are… stuck spending time with us. [ sincerely ] Sorry if we’re annoying you.

Jade sighs, tilting her head at him.

Jade: You could never annoy me, Dave Williams.

Dave smiles, somewhat reassured. Jade continues with a shrug, reminding him that it’s not like she hasn’t spent the last four years with ample time getting used to them. And it’s not that anything has changed about that -- she still loves them, they’re her boys, even if the ones like Nate and Dylan sometimes drive her crazy.

Jade: I just… I was hoping for something a little different this time. That’s all.

Dave clearly isn’t sure what that means, but he doesn’t get the chance to ask. The hotel phone rings, making all of them jump.

Yogi: Oh my God, those work? I thought they were just decorative.

Asher stops journaling, tentatively reaching to pick up the receiver when it’s clear no one else is going to. He says hello, listening thoughtfully, until his expression shifts to recognition. Then he cracks a small smile, glancing towards Jade hovering by the bathroom.

Asher: Yeah, sure. I’ll see if she’s available. [ holding out the receiver ] It’s for you.

Dave and Yogi exchange intrigued looks, the latter making a point of ooh-ing. Jade shoots him a look but comes to take the phone from Asher, who gives her some space and takes his journal over to the desk.

Jade, uncertainly: Hello?

INT. LONDON HOTEL - NIGEL’S ROOM - NIGHT

Nigel exhales a sigh of relief, settling back against the headboard. He returns her greeting shyly.

Nigel: I’m glad this actually worked, I wasn’t sure it would. I sort of thought these phones were mainly decorative.

The conversation cuts back and forth between the two of them, both of them speaking more softly than they probably need to under the guise of pretending they have privacy. Nigel explains he just wanted to say goodnight, which Jade smiles at. She apologizes for the fact that today didn’t really go as planned, but Nigel shrugs. Always tomorrow.

Jade: Yeah. Yeah, definitely.

Nigel: So I’ll see you tomorrow. For real this time.

Jade: [ with a laugh ] Okay. Can’t wait.

Neither of them want to say goodbye, but they must. To delay it just a minute more, though, Nigel tells Jade to make sure to check outside her door before she goes to sleep. She frowns, confused, but he refuses to elaborate. He simply insists she do her due diligence, then with one more goodnight, hangs up.

Jade gets up and heads to the door, hesitant and feeling silly… but it’s Nigel, and she trusts him. He wouldn’t tell her to do something without a good reason. Glancing over her shoulders to make sure her roommates are preoccupied, she gently pulls open the door.

INT. LONDON HOTEL - CORRIDOR - NIGHT

At first, Jade doesn’t find anything to see… until her gaze drifts downward. She lowers herself to a crouch, picking up the small gift left just outside her door.

One of the roses from the street vendor, the ones she said were beautiful, with a delicate ribbon tied around the stem. Jade laughs quietly in disbelief, then turns her focus to the small note folded underneath it with her name on it. It’s a brief message, scrawled in Nigel’s handwriting, on a piece of hotel notepad paper:

For aught that I could ever read, Could ever hear by tale or history, The course of true love never did run smooth.

A Shakespeare quote. Of course. How perfectly, quintessentially Nigel -- and the perfect antidote to their befuddled plans. Jade smiles, twirling the rose in her fingers and then smelling it.

Maya, pre-lap: I mean, it’s insulting, really. The complete disregard for my plans.

INT. LONDON HOTEL - DIVA ROOM - NIGHT

Maya is in the careful process of brushing her famous golden locks before bed, pacing the hotel room as she does. She’s ranting about the situation with the London Eye, remarking that with their little split she got separated from all the cool people and had to be stuck with Chai and like half of the techie gremlins -- including Asher of all people.

Maya: I really should file a complaint -- though I don’t know if it would be more effective to report Eric, or the tour company. I was very clear in my directions.

Zay: Yeah, yeah, it’s a travesty. While you’re at it, can you Karen the hotel and get them to improve their wi-fi? This service is shit.

At least, not good enough for him to compulsively check his application portal. Maya softens a bit, confirming that he still hasn’t heard from Turner. Zay tosses his phone onto the end of the bed, claiming that at this point he’d rather get a loud rejection than continue to be in suspense.

Farkle emerges from the bathroom, walking right into a trap for Maya’s ire. She comments on Zay’s predicament by pointing out that some people have confirmed opportunities right in front of them, and yet don’t appreciate it. Farkle rolls his eyes.

Zay: What, USC? Big whoop. You know Farkle was going to get in anywhere he applied considering his dad has a wealth reputation the size of Bezos.

Farkle: Um, well, I think we could give a little credit to my grades and applications.

Zay: Eh.

But no, that’s not what Maya was talking about. She loftily mentions the existence of the business card, getting the immediate attention of both boys. Zay sits upright.

Zay: Wait, what?

Farkle: Maya!

Maya: … oh, was I not supposed to mention it? [ flatly ] Oops…

Zay eyes Farkle, expecting further information. Reluctantly, Farkle gives him the short version -- that when they were in Los Angeles, he crossed paths with a talent agent who liked what he saw. So now he’s got this business card for if he’s ever back in the area. Zay blinks, shaking his head.

Zay: I’m sorry, let me see if I got this right. When we went to Los Angeles for Valerie De La Cruz’s funeral, you somehow managed to stumble into a situation to show a talent agent what you have to offer, and they liked it? Enough to give you their card?

Farkle: It was actually an audition. They wanted me to take the part, but I wanted to come back and finish senior year, so --

Zay scoffs, even more disbelieving. Maya holds out a hand, emphasizing her unspoken point. Farkle scrambles to explain himself, to validate his reasons for putting everything on hold and still not being sure he’s going to pursue it, but after a few moments Zay waves him down. He shuts down the conversation, claiming he can’t process this information right now.

Zay: Unbelievable. I can’t with this. I’m going to bed, and I’m going to sleep off this reveal and pretend I never learned it. Goodnight.

Farkle: Zay, it’s not like --

Maya: That’s all? I need you to give him one of your tough love bitch smackdowns --

Zay: I’M GOING TO SLEEP. GOODNIGHT.

Zay hits the light switch by his bed and sends the room into half-darkness, flopping onto his side and turning away from them. Maya and Farkle eye each other, the latter scowling at her. She smiles innocently.

Farkle marches over and hits the other light switch, throwing us into darkness --

INT. COACH - MOVING - DAY

But the sunlight is bright as the A class embarks on their second day, en route to the famous Westminster Abbey. It should be an exciting prospect, and it would be -- if the A class wasn’t thoroughly jetlagged and half-asleep on the bus. Dylan is asleep, leaning against a drowsy Asher.

Simon does his best to rouse them, trying to energise the bus with some riveting Westminster trivia. But it falls flat, especially on such a dead crowd. Their bus driver for the trip, a portly and blunt woman named FREYA, tells him to give it up. They’re second-day Americans, they’re gonna be pretty useless for much of the day.

Eric offers some optimism, though, patting Simon on the shoulder and assuring him they’ll put together. They’ll perk up soon… hopefully… Dave yawns loudly, not accenting Eric’s point well.

INT. GARDNER HOME - KITCHEN - DAY

Back in Manhattan, Eleanor has plenty of energy to spare. She’s in full-on planner mode as she pieces together final details for Charlie’s graduation reception, binders and notes spread out on the kitchen table and phone cradled between her shoulder and ear as she confirms some last-minute details.

Rosie and Daisy watch from the kitchen counter, since she’s taken over the dining table, having their breakfast. It’s quite the intimidating spectacle, watching their mom helicopter parent.

Daisy: Intense. Imagine what it’ll be like if he gets married.

Rosie: Think I might drop out to avoid this -- though I doubt she’d put in this much effort for me.

Daisy: I’d do that, but unfortunately, I need secondary education to get into a good college for environmental science. So.

Well, Daisy sure dropped that life plan nonchalantly. Seems she’s got it all figured out -- if only she would share some of that with Charlie! Rosie starts to ask follow up questions, but Daisy is done eating, walking away without comment.

Eleanor glances up from her things while she’s on hold with the caterers, asking Rosie if she’s heard from Charlie at all today. She feels like she hasn’t seen him since yesterday. He’s supposed to be picking up his suit, but if he doesn’t let her know, how is she supposed to know for sure… Rosie shrugs, claiming she doesn’t know. Then she pulls out her phone, crafting a quick text.

INT. THE GAP - DAY

Charlie is picking up his suit jacket as instructed, but there’s a reason he’s not keeping Eleanor updated. He glances at the text from Rosie, warning him that Mom is running just under nuclear and wondering where he is. How much longer is he going to be out?

Before he can type a response, that reason for secrecy returns to his side -- BRIDGETTE GARDNER, running the errand with him. She hands over the suit jacket put on hold for him, complete with a tie selection and suggested slack colors to match. Charlie informs her that they need to work fast because Mom is in blitz mode. Bridgette isn’t surprised, gesturing for him to try on the jacket then.

He does, pulling his arms through the sleeves. Once he’s straightened out the sleeves and adjusted the buttons, they both get a look at him in the standing mirror. It doesn’t look bad at all -- pretty classic and inoffensive in plain navy. The tie pulled to go with it is just a shade off from black, making the whole ensemble very unremarkable.

Bridgette: Looks nice. Just exactly like Mommy laid it out for you the night before.

She playfully pats his cheek, earning a scowl from him. She comments that she’s surprised Eleanor hasn’t made him cut his hair for the occasion, as it’s getting pretty long again.

Charlie: … she might have suggested it once or twice. I changed the subject.

Bridgette scoffs. Of course. But at least Charlie is resisting her influence. Bridgette thinks he could afford to do it more, given that this ensemble for the reception is so insanely boring he might as well be going to a funeral.

Bridgette: Hear me out. What about… glitter? Just a little on the lapels. Oh, or maybe like some leather -- walk into church in some actually well-fitting pants and I promise you about half the congregation will drop dead.

Charlie: Gee, thanks, but I’m not trying to commit mass murder. You may as well have me wear a bedazzled rainbow suit and tattoo a pride flag on my face.

Bridgette: Would be an improvement from what you’ve got now.

Be that as it may, Charlie just wants this reception to go smoothly. If that means wearing what mom thinks looks best, then whatever. Not like it matters.

Bridgette: See, I used to think like that, and then I discovered lace bralette tops. Never going back. [ a beat ] I’m just saying, it’s your party. I think you should be able to express a little bit of yourself while you’re there. At least consider a different tie?

Charlie: … fine. You get three chances to change my mind.

Bridgette accepts the challenge, settling into digging through the displays of neckties to find the strongest contenders. Charlie changes the subject, reflecting on the fact that Bridgette doesn’t even get to be at the reception to see him wear it if he does decide to shake it up. She states that the knowledge of her assistance will be enough, but he doesn’t agree.

Charlie: It’s not fair. I mean, you didn’t get to go to the ceremony, you don’t get to come to this…

Bridgette: Yes, such are the trials and tribulations of being the exile. Missing out on all the thrilling social engagements of blessed high society.

Charlie: I’m serious. Don’t you want to be there?

Bridgette pauses, taking in his sincere indignation. While confronting their mom isn’t exactly high on her agenda, it’s clear from the expression on his face that he wants her there. She shrugs, focusing on the ties.

Bridgette: I already accepted the fact that I was gonna miss out on this stuff. You know? I got over that when I got over everything else. You have to -- if you get stuck on shit like that, it just… makes it harder. And at that point, you can’t handle harder.

Bottom line, he shouldn’t get all worked up on her behalf. He can have his perfect, polished graduation reception without her, and then they’ll do something to celebrate on their own. She finishes pulling a third selection and double checks that she’s satisfied with her picks, then hands them to Charlie and swaps for his boring Eleanor-approved tie.

Bridgette: I’m taking this back to the personal shopper. He can put it back on the rack -- that or burn it, which will be my humble suggestion. You’re wearing one of those.

Charlie: Oh, so it’s bad when mom tells me what to wear, but when you do it, it’s fine.

Bridgette: Yes. Obviously. Just think of it as representation on my behalf, as the poor little exile.

The comment is said in jest, but it’s clear Charlie genuinely isn’t satisfied with how she’s being left out from all his celebrations. She may have made peace with it, but he’s struggling to do the same. He glances down at the neckties, sifting through the colorful and patterned selections.

EXT. WESTMINSTER ABBEY - CLOISTERS - DAY

With its high ceilings, ancient decor and dark lighting, Westminster Abbey very much gives Hogwarts vibes. Simon is in the midst of leading a walking tour around it, holding up a small but bright yellow flag to ensure the group doesn’t get lost. The class is still a little groggy, since Simon’s monotone voice doesn’t inspire much excitement. 

Simon: One of the many monarchs buried here at Westminster is the queen known as “Bloody Mary,” also known as Mary Tudor. She was the last Catholic monarch --

Dave: I wonder if Charlie knows her. 

Simon: And was responsible for 280 people being burned at the stake due to their protestantism. The myth of Bloody Mary is often combined with that of Mary, Queen of Scots, who’s also buried here. She was Queen of Scotland, and claimed that the English throne belonged to her, not her cousin Elizabeth I. Because of this, Elizabeth had her cousin beheaded. 

Nate: Sick. 

Simon: Rumour has it Bloody Mary haunts various sites across the UK, and that if you say her name three times in a row, she’ll make an appearance.

The techie boys all share excited looks while Darby and Haley both look outright disturbed. Simon continues on, unaware of the reactions behind him.

Eric steps through the crowd with his phone to his ear, nodding, then lowers it against his chest as he approaches Riley. He pulls her aside from where she’s listening with Dylan and Asher, speaking to her quietly so as to not interrupt. As the one with the unlimited international plan for this trip, he’s the point person for any important communication.

Eric: Hey, your dad’s on the phone.

Riley: What? Is everything okay?

Eric: Yeah, yeah, it’s fine. He just… your Tisch letter came in the mail. He wants to know if he should open it or not.

Oh. Riley processes that, glancing towards Dylan and Asher. They nod her along, and she nods to Eric, taking the phone from him and stepping a bit away to talk to Cory. She gives him permission to open the letter, waiting on the other end of the line impatiently. She twists a thread on the end of her lavender silk blouse, the seconds ticking by impossibly slow…

Then the results are in. Riley absorbs what her dad tells her, blinking.

Riley: Waitlisted. [ a long beat ] Um, are you sure? What does it --

She’s cut off as Cory presumably reads from the letter, confirming the intel. She’s been waitlisted for Tisch.

For as unbothered as she acted about the whole thing, the news is still a bit overwhelming. She clears her throat, assuring Cory that she’s fine and really needs to catch up with the group. Once they say goodbye, she makes her way back over to Dylan and Asher, managing a smile. But they can tell she’s not herself, cautiously asking what the verdict is.

Riley: Um, waitlisted.

Dylan: No way.

Asher: Oh, well… look, that’s not bad. It could still turn around.

Riley: Yeah. Yeah, absolutely.

Asher: It’s not so much a rejection as it is, like… you know, just waiting to see if --

Riley: The better people say yes first.

Well, when you put it like that… Asher bites his tongue, deciding not to add anything since he’s clearly not helping. Dylan asks if she wants to take a minute, or if she wants them to wait with her, but she waves them off. She’ll be fine.

Riley: Think I just want to be alone for a second. If that’s okay.

Dylan and Asher nod, offering condolences one more time but also assuring her that Tisch doesn’t know what they’re holding out on. It’s their loss. She smiles, appreciative, but it’s faint.

Then she’s alone, left to absorb these new developments. She could hold out on the unlikely, pretending like she’s on the same level as Maya, Nigel, or any other of her incredibly talented friends… or she can let it go, start thinking more practically, and be able to start planning her future.

There’s just that lingering worry, the one creating the lump in her throat, that if she makes the wrong choice, she’s going to regret it forever.

Song Cue ♫ ♪ “Chasing Pavements” as performed by Adele || Performed by Riley Matthews

Rather than focusing on unrequited romance, Riley’s soulful rendition of the early Adele hit is concerned around her future. For as composed as she’s been able to appear about the whole thing while her friends spiral, the pressure of such major decisions has been weighing on her too -- and with a result like “waitlist,” she’s simultaneously let down yet still trapped in uncertainty. She was hoping for this admission decision to make the tough choices for her, to show her how she feels and what she wants from her future.

Does she want to risk it all and pursue a lofty goal like performing when it’s never been her core motivation, when it’s not her whole entire world like her friends -- but she might be just good enough to make something out of it? Is it worth chasing that elusive maybe, when that maybe might never materialize, waitlisting her forever… and when she could conceivably imagine herself doing something else, even if she doesn’t know what that something else is yet?

And maybe it hurts so much because it speaks to an even greater problem, which is that Riley herself feels stuck on an eternal waitlist. The blow just reiterates what she’s always known: that she’s second best, second choice, the belle of the ball only when all the other debutantes have passed. Maybe a single college acceptance shouldn’t feel that way, but it does, and the ache of it is loud and clear as Riley meanders her way through the corridors of Westminster Abbey and belts it out. It’s a rather poignantly beautiful performance with the historic, grand abbey as her stage.

As the song comes to an end, Riley slips down and settles onto one of the stone benches, tilting her head back against the glass window behind her. The empty feeling expands as we ease away, her solitude emphasized by how vast the corridors seem around her.

INT. CHUBBIES - DAY

Riley isn’t the only one feeling stranded in regards to their dreams. Lucas is in a low mood, spending his time moping behind the counter at Chubbies when he should be on his way to Albany for his interview. It would be easier to be angry, but the only person he can get mad at is himself, so muted frustration and disappointment will do.

He lifts his gaze from the register when Charlie walks through the door, one of the only customers who’s trailed in so far that morning. He makes a point of noting the emptiness himself as he approaches the counter.

Charlie: Quiet in here, huh? Guess when Adams heads out there’s really no one left to patronize this place.

Lucas: Would you judge me if I said I liked it?

Charlie laughs. He claims he wouldn’t judge, given that he’s out also looking for a little quiet and change of pace. He mentions his family and all of the hubbub around his reception, which it’s clearly nice to step away from for a bit.

Lucas: Oh, right. You graduated this week, right?

Charlie: Yeah. Basically the same day everybody else left.

Lucas: Great timing. But uh, congratulations, or whatever.

Not the most eloquent good tidings, but Charlie will take it. The conversation drifts to more general post-graduate discussion, ultimately prompting Lucas to admit when asked about his college prospects that he was accepted into UC Davis. In fact, he was even offered a potential scholarship. Charlie brightens, knowing from Riley how big a deal it is.

Charlie: Seriously? That’s amazing! Congratulations. You must be excited.

Lucas: You’d think I would be. Only it’s not happening. I can’t get the scholarship, so I can’t go.

Charlie: What? Why not?

Lucas isn’t one to just dump his personal baggage out for anyone to see, but there’s something so inexplicably disarming about Charlie that he finds himself saying it anyway. That, and all that frustration he’s been stifling all morning is desperate to slip out.

Lucas: Because for whatever reason the stupid thing is upstate in Albany, rather than like, a centralized logical location like downtown.

Charlie: They probably had more than one session for out-of-state applicants. At least it’s in New York.

Lucas: I guess. It’s my fault, anyway, because I could’ve planned accordingly, but I’m a fucking idiot who waited until the last second to ask for a ride, and my only resource can’t help. And I tried looking up ride shares but it’ll take like a million dollars to get there and back, which defeats the purpose anyway since I’m going to this interview to lick some boots for a scholarship because I don’t have any money.

Lucas concludes his mini-rant by pointedly shutting the cash register drawer, which dings in protest. Charlie processes his complaints, trying to keep up.

Charlie: Where’d you say it was again?

Lucas: Albany. [ irritably ] It’s only like a couple hours away, which honestly makes it worse, because it’s that damningly close and yet I still can’t get to it --

Charlie: Dude, I can drive you.

Oh. Wasn’t expecting that. Lucas pauses his irritable fidgeting, staring at him for a long moment before realizing he’s genuinely offering.

Lucas: … are you serious?

Charlie: Yeah! Like you said, Albany’s not even that far. I like a drive, and I don’t think you should have to miss out on the chance to see this through just because you don’t have the means to get there. Besides, I owe you one for helping me with Brandon.

Lucas: No, no. No, we’re already even. I evened it. Because that was for you doing the transfer thing --

Charlie: [ with humor ] Look, we could do this all day. Or, we can get going so you can make it to your interview on time -- though you’ll probably want to change first.

Perhaps. Lucas glances down at his Chubbies uniform.

INT. SCHOOL BOARD OFFICES - MORRIS’S OFFICE - DAY

Meanwhile, Jack is at his prior engagement, sitting down for coffee with GEORGE MORRIS (60s). He’s a member of the old guard for sure, conventional and establishment, but unlike Jefferson and Yancy he tends to formulate his opinions on each issue independently and votes accordingly. He’s not easily influenced... which makes his impending retirement of particular interest. Whoever rises to occupy his vacant spot may just tip the scales of the school board towards a progressive or conservative lean.

It’s a fact that is clearly on Jack’s mind as they chat, starting on the subject of Jack’s forced probation and reapplication for the leadership role at Adams. Morris voted during the Bradford debacle for Lucas to be able to stay at Adams -- he found the whole situation quite ridiculous and time-wasting, to be frank, more spectacle than anything worthwhile -- but he admits that he also voted for Jack to be put up for reapplication.

Morris: My thinking was that if you were still best suited for the position, then your reapplication should be swift and effortless. You have a strong track record despite Yancy’s observations, which are biased, and it wouldn’t take much to win the job back. Sure, it’s another symbolic, time-wasting gesture, but it would settle the matter.

That being said, he did note that Jack has yet to actually submit said reapplication… which provides a perfect segue into why he knows Jack is really here.

Morris: You don’t have to beat around the bush, Jackson. I’m sure you’ve heard the rumors that I’ll be taking my leave at the end of this contract year.

Jack: That might be true, yes.

Morris: Evelyn mentioned you very well may eye my spot. In fact, she seemed to suspect such a thing before you even caught wind of the possibility. She’s keen, Evelyn, insightful. Knows her colleagues much better than most, sees potential that others don’t. That’s why she makes an excellent board member.

Jack admits it’s not out of the realm of possibility in his mind… in the time that he’s been an administrator, he’s learned a lot, but one thing that always frustrates him is when he loses the ability to tackle bigger issues once they elevate beyond his pay grade. There are bigger, more systemic issues affecting the students of Manhattan that he wishes would get more attention, that he could dedicate more concerted effort towards without sacrificing his attention to Adams or risking overstepping his bounds. And certainly becoming a school board member wouldn’t magically fix any of those problems, but it’s a new angle on it. A new starting point, a place where he can create initiatives and try to organize funding towards the things he believes matter above all else.

That’s true, and Morris commends his passion. The board can be a painfully bureaucratic institution, and it could benefit from some fresh spirit. But he has to advise him to seriously consider the process it would entail as well. The school board is an elected position. Jack would have to campaign, build a following, and garner enough support to win the spot. And like most elected positions, he wouldn’t be able to hold onto his current position in the meantime -- if Jack decides to throw his hat in the ring and run for the board, he will have to forfeit his role at Adams to do it. And if he doesn’t make the cut, he’ll be starting over.

Still, that doesn’t mean he shouldn’t consider it. It’s just important to examine all the angles before he makes a move as big as this -- and it’s evident that Jack seriously is.

INT. WESTMINSTER ABBEY - HENRY VII CHAPEL - DAY

At the same time, the A class has begun their free roam at the abbey, allowing them to break off into smaller groups. There’s a lot to explore, so they’ve got a decent chunk of time to do so.

Jade and Nigel have wandered off on their own and arrived at the chapel, Clarissa and Haley the only other two A class folks in the same chamber. Jade approaches the steps in awe, complimenting the architecture and talking about how she remembers watching Kate and William get married live on TV.

Jade: Wasn’t my idea though, for the record. My brother was weirdly obsessed with the royals for a time -- he’s one of those Americans that had a union jack hanging up in his room in middle school.

Nigel: Sure.

Jade: I was much more interested in the fashion. I remember being so amazed by Kate’s dress… I mean, the attention to detail on the lace sleeves, and the train…

Nigel’s turn to be fond of Jade nerding out. The two of them settle at the base of the altar, basically mirroring where the royals stood at said wedding with the beauty of the church towering behind them. He claims she’s already designed and created pieces equally as stunning, if not more impressive. Who knows? Maybe she’ll be designing for the royals one day.

Jade: Wouldn’t my brother love that... but I don’t know. To get that kind of gig I would have to actually have credentials first, which is not going to happen if I don’t get a really good apprenticeship.

Nigel: Still nothing from any of them?

Jade: No. And it’s not like that’s a bad thing, yet, most of them don’t start reaching out until like… mid-summer. But with everyone else figuring stuff out and starting to nail down all their plans, kind of just makes me feel… adrift.

There are certainly others who relate at the moment. Nigel steps closer and takes her hands, waiting for her to look at him.

Nigel: It’s all gonna shape out. Even if you don’t take the traditional path, I really don’t see how you couldn’t find your footing in the industry when your portfolio is literally spectacular. And if worse comes to worse, you’ll make your own way. You can like market your designs on social media and stuff -- Yindra’s good at the branding thing, she could probably help. Dylan, too, though I’m not exactly sure he has a method to his madness.

Jade: Well, he’s doing something right, with what, sixty-thousand followers and counting? Still can’t believe it.

Nigel: My point is, you’ll get there one way or another. And I’ll help, even if I have to go door-to-door at NYU singing your praises. I’m well-versed in the art of the monologue, you’d be impressed how much information I can eloquently cram into thirty seconds of time before they inevitably slam the door in my face.

Jade laughs, thanking him for his unabashed support -- and risking social pariah syndrome to do it. He nods, proud, and the moment grows soft between them. Nothing but fond smiles and the gentle beauty of the cathedral around them… they drift closer together, to share a regally romantic kiss of their own…

Only they’re startled out of the moment by Nate, who marches into the room and loudly comments on how great the acoustics are. The rest of the techie boys follow, officially disrupting the peaceful nature from moments earlier.

Nate: I swear, it’s like an amplifier in here. Echo game for days. [ quietly ] Nate’s the best. [ louder, playing with the echoes ] NATE’S THE BEST!

Yogi and Jeff shush him, but it’s not very effective when they’re laughing. Jade groans under her breath, lightly crossing her eyes in irritation before descending down from the altar. Nigel hesitates, then goes after her, the laughter of their peers echoing around the stone architecture.

EXT. WESTMINSTER ABBEY - DAY

Zay is fielding some annoyance of his own, meandering along with Farkle along the exterior grounds of the abbey. They’re near the perimeter of the burial grounds, Farkle rattling off an insane amount of trivia to fill the silence as Zay does his best to ignore him. How he got stuck with him, he doesn’t know, but Farkle seems more than content to trail behind him and bother him with facts he didn’t need to know.

Farkle: Did you know there are over three-thousand people buried at the abbey?

Zay: Why the hell would I know that?

Farkle: Well, I do.

As if that’s the marker for common knowledge. Zay shakes his head, stuffing his hands in his pockets, but Farkle isn’t thrown by his silence. He continues on unperturbed.

Farkle: That statistic includes many royals and all the Tudors -- save for Henry the VIII, that is, who opted to be buried with his favorite wife, Jane Seymour. Though there’s debate about that, too, considering many Tudor enthusiasts actually believe his true love was Catherine of Aragon, but Jane was the one who gave him a male heir. Which she then died for -- childbirth complications -- so guess maybe he felt a little sorry for her.

Zay: [ under his breath ] Think if he had a favorite wife it would be his only wife…

Farkle: Well, sure, maybe by our present-day standards. But monogamy and marriage for love rather than strategy and lineage is really much more modern a practice than most people realize. Anyway, definitely wouldn’t have been Henry the VIII’s game, since he literally created a new branch of Christianity so he could divorce his wife, which wasn’t allowed under Roman Catholicism. So he’s always been a bit of a I’m-Not-Like-Other-Monarchs guy.

They’re going to have to bury Zay at the abbey if Farkle keeps this up and bores him to death.

Farkle: But you think he’d be buried here, considering he’s the reason the church exists as an Anglican denomination like it does now. It used to be a monastery before he had England separate from the Catholic church. Charlie and I got into an argument about this once, actually, in Cory’s class -- well, I don’t know if I can say argument, since Charlie is really only capable of slightly lukewarm debate -- because he thought the date was before --

The relentless trivia is one thing, but a Charlie name-drop is just too much. Zay is trying to avoid thinking about all of the above. He stops walking, Farkle accidentally ramming into him.

Zay: No offense, Farkle, but I quite literally could not give less of a shit. I’m trying to enjoy the scenery, but I can’t even hear myself be unimpressed over your lecture.

Farkle: Some people find fun facts charming.

Zay: Well, you should go find those weirdos and flock with them then. Seriously, acres of ancient architecture for you to roam and somehow, you end up with me. Wouldn’t you rather be competing with Isadora for knowing how many stones make up the cathedral or some shit?

Farkle: Sorry! Maybe I would be, if things were normal. But at this point anything is better than having to trail around behind her and play third wheel with…

Oh, yeah. Right. Zay forgot about the little detail of Chai. He can empathise with that, wanting to avoid unpleasant circumstances that you have no power to change… he sighs.

Zay: Whatever. It’s fine. You can stay, but we’re going to walk quietly. Enjoy the posh, pretentious ambience. Quietly. Got it?

Farkle: Sure. Totally. I can do that.

Zay nods, beginning to saunter along again. Farkle does his best to follow the rule, biting his tongue as he dawdles behind him… but it doesn’t last long. It’s just not in his nature. It’s sweet of Zay to pretend it could be, but they both know that’s not reality.

Farkle: Bet you can’t guess what famous scientist is buried here.

Zay: Jesus Christ…

No, Zay, he wasn’t a scientist. Good try, though!

Charlie, pre-lap: And what unique eccentricities do you bring to the table that you think would make a meaningful addition to the UC community?

INT. CHARLIE’S CAR - DAY

Charlie and Lucas have made it to the interview venue with a few minutes to spare, so they’re maximizing their time. Charlie has his phone open to a list of typical scholarship interview questions and they’re essentially doing a mock interview. Lucas is now dressed in the nice button-down he wore to Topanga’s, looking much more put together than he did in his uniform.

And though they’re doing their usual thing of not making eye contact as they converse, it’s obvious that the practice is valuable to Lucas. He’s able to stumble through his thoughts, pausing and rethinking and starting over in the middle of a sentence, when he won’t be allowed such a luxury once he gets in there. Charlie listens attentively, tossing glances at him and nodding in approval if he says something particularly effective or well-spoken.

Once they’ve made it through the last question, Charlie compliments his efforts. It’s clear he has a lot to say once he finds the right words, and he can spin it all pretty well.

Charlie: These sort of things are more a formality anyway, honestly. They usually have their mind made up about who they want to give the scholarships to -- this is more about confirming that you’re not like, secretly deranged or a total recluse.

Lucas: Oh, really? Then I should skip it. Would hate to confirm their worst fears.

Charlie side-eyes him, smirking as he shakes his head.

Charlie: You’ll be fine. Deliver even a fraction of the confidence you usually have and you’ll win them over.

Lucas: [ with a snort ] Yeah, right. Sure.

That response surprises Charlie. He looks at him.

Charlie: I mean it.

Lucas: I don’t know what Kool-aid they had you drink at Haverford, but I think it fucked with your head. No one would call me the epitome of confidence.

Charlie: Oh, come on. That’s so not true. You’re like, one of the most unflappable people at Adams. Everyone thinks so.

Lucas: Did we go to the same school?

Charlie: I didn’t say it meant they liked you, but I bet if you asked anyone from our class they’d say you’ve got confidence. Maybe not the same brand as Maya, or Isadora, but you know who you are. You’re unapologetic about it. And you do your own thing, you’re not scared of anything. That gives you like… a quiet power. People notice that, it’s admirable. I wish I could be like that. I’m sure the interview panel will see it, too.

Charlie’s talent for saying the exact right thing in earnest strikes again, and at just the right moment. Lucas absorbs the sentiment. He’s so used to the narratives that are unflattering, all the ways he’s been villainized, it’s weird that in the midst of all that turbulence he may have had silent admirers for every disdainful naysayer.

Lucas quickly changes the subject, pointing out that Charlie was helpful at coaching him. He asks if he had to do a lot of interviews for his schools, which Charlie denies. He wasn’t up for scholarship in most cases considering his family is well-off, and he’s pretty sure his grades and community service did most of the selling for him. It’s all about the surface-level achievement anyway. No one is especially interested in getting to know him beyond the shiny stats, and he can’t blame them.

Lucas: Well, why do you want to go there?

Charlie: What?

Lucas: To Yale or whatever. I just mean like… you know, I’m only doing all this shit for Davis because it has something I really want. A way to get to something I think I want to do. Otherwise, it wouldn’t be worth the stress, and it definitely wouldn’t be worth the money. Why do you want to go there, beyond the… shiny stats?

Good question, Lucas. Very, very good question. One that Charlie can’t answer, even as he opens his mouth to do so. He feels invisible to their institutions, but maybe that’s equally as much about him as it is about them.

He’s spared for now. Lucas’s phone buzzes, warning him that he has ten minutes until his interview slot, so he better get going. Charlie wishes him luck as he climbs out of the car. Then it’s just him, stuck sitting with the huge hole in his future plans Lucas incidentally broke open.

INT. WESTMINSTER ABBEY - NAVE - DAY

Various students wander around the nave of the church -- the main area with pews, memorials and icons hung on columns. Amidst the students are Isadora and Chai, who walk in silence, awkward tension surrounding them following their not-so-pleasant goodnight the day before.

While Isadora focuses on the intricately decorated screen that leads to the quire, Chai takes a selfie with Isaac Newton. Well, his statue, anyway. Chai asks Isadora to be in a picture with her, so Isadora lightly smiles and poses. Chai snaps the pic, then puts away her phone. Things seem to be a little more comfortable between them, so Chai broaches the topic of last night.

Chai: Listen, about what happened yesterday --

From this side of the nave, Isadora has a better view of the pews and finds whatever it was she was searching for. Unaware of the fact that Chai is mid-sentence, Isadora rushes towards a particular row of pews. Chai takes a moment to swallow down her annoyance, then follows.

Isadora slowly makes her way down the pew, analysing the space and holding out her hands as a way to measure how much room would be needed for each person to sit. Curious, Chai watches as Isadora settles on one spot. Tension lifts from Isadora’s face and she lets out a breath of relief before turning and sitting down. Chai shuffles in to sit next to her and looks in the same direction, wondering if this particular spot allows for a better view, but doesn’t notice anything. 

Chai: Why are we sitting here? 

Isadora: This is where my mom sat at Will and Kate’s wedding.

Chai is surprised, and allows herself to take in the fact that she’s sitting next to where Valerie De La Cruz once sat. It’s impressive, honestly, that Isadora remembers exactly where Val sat a whole decade after. Despite how much Isadora once claimed she didn’t care about her mother, this goes to show that she always cared -- a lot. 

Chai: Wow. Were you her plus one or something?

Isadora: [ with a shake of her head ] I watched it on TV with my foster family. Her plus one was some race car driver.

Unsure what to say next, Chai lets quiet settle between them. The opportunity to discuss the night before is gone, but Chai reassures herself that things are better today, like Isadora said. Maybe it was just jetlag…

She tentatively slides her hand towards Isadora’s and brushes it with her fingers, but Isadora once again flinches at the contact and pulls her hand away. She slides down the pew a little to create distance between her and Chai, which only rubs salt into the wound.

Knowing where she isn’t wanted, Chai wordlessly gets up and leaves. Her absence doesn’t even register with Isadora, who continues to sit in silence.

A different collection of Adams students also wander around the nave, Yindra leading the charge. She’s on a mission, approaching the front pews and claiming she wants to get the chance to pray while they’re there. Maya raises her eyebrows, amused.

Maya: Really? I didn’t take you for that kind of religious zealot.

Yindra: Your dismissive attitude notwithstanding, I see it as less zealous and more seizing an opportunity. I’m not going to pass up the chance to send out a prayer for my future in one of the most famous places of Christian worship there is. I’ll take any moment to put good energy into the universe and give a little thanks to God for what I’ve already got -- especially given the odyssey I’m about to embark on.

Well said, Yindra. Touché… Maya takes this challenge, pointedly sauntering off to a kneeler of her own. She settles down with uncertainty, clearly unfamiliar with how any of this religious stuff works. She’s a bit subconscious about it, glancing around her to make sure no one can see her being so visibly out of her element.

Maya: Where’s Charlie Gardner when you need him…

But Charlie isn’t there, the one time Maya has probably ever thought he would be useful to have around, so she’s on her own. She takes a deep breath, blowing air out through her lips almost as if she’s doing vocal warm ups.

Maya: Dear God -- oh, no, wait --

She clasps her hands together, mimicking prayer as she’s seen in the movies. There, better. She nods, satisfied, then tries again.

Maya: So, like… hey there. God. Or, whoever you are. If you’re there. Look, I don’t really do this thing, but Amino made her point, and I can’t let her one-up me. She’s already my strongest competition in the world of up and coming female superstars. No special advantages for her. [ pausing ] Anyway, I know I don’t have the wherewithal to be asking you for anything, since I’m not exactly a “worshipper.” And I wouldn’t expect it anyway -- I’ll be making my own way, cosmic interference or not, so it’s no biggie.

If God is up there listening, he has to be laughing. No one can say Maya Hart isn’t one of his most entertaining creatures… then she grows more serious, clearing her throat.

Maya: I actually thought, if it’s like, allowed, that I’d put in a request for someone else. And don’t worry, he’s one of your precious children who actually practices religion and all that, so you’ll be more willing to help him I’m sure. But um… you should send some guidance to my friend, Farkle. If you do that sort of thing. He’s got… an amazing opportunity in front of him, and all of the talent in the world to see it through -- in a surprisingly frail package. And I know he wants to follow it, that in his heart he wants to break away and see where this takes him, but… something’s holding him back. I don’t know why. I guess he’s scared, maybe. But I think this hesitation is going to keep him stuck, and he’s going to regret it.

Maya pauses, glancing up at the elegant opulence of the church in front of her. Though she’s not a believer and probably never will be, she can appreciate why someone would be. There’s something to it, the feeling of kneeling there in humility and sensing just how small you are. Small, and yet, still worth listening to in even the quietest prayers. She has to love the drama of it, in any case.

Maya: He needs to take the leap and see how far he can go. He can’t pass this up. Please don’t let him pass this up. [ a beat ] Oh, and like, amen. Thanks.

Maya bounces back to her feet, stepping away from the kneeler. As we hang on the stained glass windows shimmering with sunlight…

Interviewer, pre-lap: And why, in your opinion, should we take a chance on you? All things considered.

INT. CONFERENCE ROOM - DAY

Lucas is seated opposite three representatives from UC Davis admissions, who we can only see from behind. We’re focused on Lucas instead, giving ample effort to put his best foot forward and make a strong impression. He’s not inauthentic -- no fake smiles or overt charm here -- but like Charlie said, he has a unique, quiet charisma. When he answers their question, speaking carefully and precisely to get every word right, there’s a soft intensity to it that is more compelling than any practiced grin could be.

Lucas: I want to study veterinary medicine, which has its roots in biology. And as far as I understand it, the core tenet to any living organism is growth. Being able to adapt, to evolve, become a better and more resilient version of what came before. And in many cases, organisms need support and the right environment to achieve that growth. The right nutrients, water, sunlight. There’s nothing in the randomness of the universe that says we have to support those things, to sustain life, but it happens anyway. [ a beat ] I know I’m not perfect. I’m not the ideal candidate on paper, and any look at my permanent record would warrant second thoughts. But I’m improving. I’m evolving. You can see it in my application -- it takes a lot of adaptation to go from expulsion at one school to being class president of another. It’s not easy, and it’s a lot of work, but… I’m putting in the effort to be better than I was before. You don’t have to take a chance on me, but… I believe with the proper environment -- Davis -- I can grow into something worth putting your support and money behind.

The interview panel considers this, one member nodding along while a couple others jot down notes. Lucas releases a breath, having endured the worst of it.

Behind his chair where his bookbag rests, his phone screen lights up with a silenced phone call. Eric’s contact name pops on the screen…

EXT. WESTMINSTER ABBEY - DAY

But the call goes unanswered, leaving Riley waiting on the other end even more disappointed. She leaves a quick message when it goes to voicemail.

Riley: Hi, it’s Riley. I’m calling from Eric’s phone because he has the international plan -- I hope everything is going okay. I just, um… I got some news and I wanted to share it with you, so give me a call back when you get the chance. No rush or anything. And try me on my cell first, because we’ll probably be at the hotel and should be able to at least try wi-fi… but um, yeah. Okay. I miss you. Hopefully talk to you soon. Love you, bye.

She reluctantly hangs up, Eric approaching cautiously. She hands the phone back to him, thanking him for letting her use it. He does his best to reassure her that getting waitlisted is not the end of the world by any means. In fact, there is a silver lining to it in that Riley is clearly good enough to keep under consideration rather than outright rejection.

Riley: Just not good enough to accept.

Eric: Hey, a delayed acceptance is still an acceptance. The destination is the destination, regardless of how long it takes to get there. And you’ve got some information now that you didn’t before, which should help you in figuring out what to do next.

Fair enough. Riley tries to accept that positive spin, allowing the hug Eric gives her. Then he braces her shoulders and waits for her to meet his eyes.

Eric: You get to decide what happens next. That’s the most important thing. Don’t forget that.

Hear, hear. Riley nods, offering a light smile. The two of them head back towards the rest of the group, off to their next stop.

EXT. REGENT’S PARK - CUMBERLAND GREEN - DAY

It’s the evening, but the bright sky and chirping birds don’t show it. Regent’s Park is somewhat busy with tourists and family walking around, and people in business suits on their way home from work. The A class arrive, Simon leading the way with his yellow flag. Eric and Harper carry two large ice box coolers, with a few of the students helping out by carrying foldable chairs, picnic blankets and shopping bags with paper plates and cups.

Once they find a spot big enough for them to spread out, Eric tells everyone to get a picnic blanket and sit in groups, then he and Harper will go around with the food. 

Simon: If anybody wants to learn more about Regent’s Park, or the history of England in general, you can sit on my picnic blanket with me. I’ll be sharing lots of fun facts and answering any questions you have for the duration of tea. 

Dylan: Oh no, are we having tea? Shit, Ash, what should I do? You said I shouldn’t have tea anymore after that time at The Lego Movie… I’m gonna fail London.

Zay overhears this, plainly informing Dylan that tea is just another word for dinner. 

Yindra: I’m dying to hear what happened at The Lego Movie, though. Please do share.

The four of them, along with Riley, get a picnic blanket to sit as a group. Meanwhile, Maya holds court with Darby, Sarah, Haley and Clarissa -- Riley and Zayby aren’t enough motivation to eat with Dylan and Asher.

Maya calls Isadora and Farkle over, but neither seem keen to join the group of girls. Farkle sits down in between Asher and Riley instead, Asher awkwardly shuffling closer to Dylan to make room for his long legs. With a pout, Maya beckons Isadora again. Elsewhere, Chai spots Darby and Sarah and heads towards them, passing Isadora on the way. 

Chai: Want to sit with me? I was going to go with Darby and Sarah but if you’d rather sit just the two of us I’m sure we can find a spare blanket.

Isadora looks around, noticing that everybody else has found a place and that Harper and Eric have started to hand out food.

Isadora: I actually was planning on sitting with Simon, but you go ahead. 

Chai: I mean, I’m happy to sit with Simon, too. 

Isadora: Honestly, it’s fine. I know you’re not into all the history stuff.

Way to tell somebody you don’t want to sit with them without actually telling them. Isadora walks over to Simon’s picnic blanket, where Jade and Nigel are already sitting. Nigel and Simon are in the midst of a debate over the meaning behind one of Shakespeare’s works, a conversation that Isadora easily slips into.

Rather than upset, Chai looks angry as she watches Isadora sit down. She has half a mind to follow Isadora and force her to spend time with her, but she realises that that would do more harm than good. Instead, she sets her jaw and marches towards Sarah and Darby. 

Maya, somewhat smug: Trouble in paradise? I knew you two would crash and burn. 

Sarah: Tell me about it.

Not exactly supportive, but Chai doesn’t care. It’s fuel to the fire that’s burning brighter with every new interaction with Isadora.

The mood isn’t too much better over in Riley’s group. Mainly that news about her waitlisting has spread, and they’re all fired up on her behalf. She tries to assure them that it’s no big deal, people get waitlisted all the time, but all of them are in agreement that if anyone deserves not to be, it’s her. Zay is especially adamant, though he might be projecting some of his own admissions frustration and impatience onto her.

It’s Dylan that finds the knack for truly cheering her though, adding a little melodrama to the rallying around Riley that makes it feel more fun and less heavy. He grows increasingly impassioned about all of the ways that Riley has changed environments for the better -- look at AAA for crying out loud! -- and Tisch simply won’t know what they’re missing. Fools, the lot of them. It’s so obvious, really, that Riley is a cut above the rest.

Song Cue ♫ ♪ “Jolly Holiday” as performed by Mary Poppins Original London Cast Recording || Performed by Dylan Orlando (feat. Riley Matthews, Asher Garcia, Zay Babineaux, and Ensemble) (starting at 00:15)

[ Lyrics specific to characters -- follow along here! ]

Perhaps the biggest number of the episode, so following along with the lyrics can be very helpful for this spectacle. In fact, I don’t even think I can do the performance justice trying to write it out, so I highly encourage a listen to the track and I will try my best! Dylan wastes no time in launching into the number, replacing every “Mary” fittingly with “Riley” as he showers her in compliments -- a trend that will continue throughout.

Dylan: Why, it’s a jolly holiday with Riley. Riley makes your heart so light.

Riley: Oh, really…

Dylan: When the day is grey and ordinary, Riley makes the sun shine bright!

Riley: You do talk nonsense, Dyl!

Dylan: Oh happiness is blooming all around her. The daffodils are smiling at the dove!

Riley: I haven’t the faintest idea what you’re talking about --

Dylan leans even further into the melodrama, falling onto his back and stretching across Asher’s lap as he really milks it. Suffice to say, he matches Bert’s cheeky charm near perfectly.

Dylan: When Riley holds your hand --

Asher: Dyl!

Dylan: You feel so grand. Your heart starts beating like [ pounding his heart to the beat ] a big brass band!

Asher: [ patting his side ] You’ve got enough brass for all of us…

Then Dylan pushes himself back upright and to his feet, concluding the opening verse by approaching Riley and offering her his hands. She takes them and lets him pull her to her feet, kicking off a visual journey in song through the idyllic park.

But first we take a detour to the plastics, complaining about their stop at the park. Boring! It’s just statues, ducks, and grannies! From there, once they’re done complaining about how it has nothing to offer them, we jump straight into the next set of sung lyrics (01:55), where Dylan takes over again.

EXT. REGENT’S PARK - SPORTS GREENS - DAY

He and Asher are guiding Riley along on their walk, playfully flirting with her and bolstering her confidence as they go. They weave their way through football players and pull them into the singing -- the whole performance definitely has some “That’s How You Know” energy from Enchanted. It’s also a good time to mention what Dylan and Asher are wearing this afternoon, which are purposefully but subtly meant to emulate this famous fashion moment.

Then Dylan takes a detour, leaning fully into the Bert silliness by delivering statue pun after statue pun (to the techie boys’ great delight, especially Dave). At one point, he yoinks a straw boater hat off an OLD MAN and continues on his merry way, which the old man complains about in a… bizarrely strong Cockney accent. His adult SON tells him to relax, though, and just enjoy the performance -- how can you disdain a fella with such spirit like that? As they have their brief comedic interaction, there’s definitely the sensation that the men look oddly familiar (for film and West End fans alike).

EXT. REGENT’S PARK - BOATING LAKE - DAY

Zay takes over from there for a verse or two, arm linked with Riley as the two of them traipse along the path around the boating lake. The ensemble out on the boats sings along, only increasing their share of infectious performing energy. These American students have a contagion of joyful singing, and it’s incurable!

A few paces behind them, Asher takes the Mary verse, turning some of the appreciation towards Dylan. Because of course, Dylan was the one who managed to rally Riley out of her low mood -- and get the whole Park singing along. It’s a cute little exchange between the two of them, cementing their Mary and Bert energies, and building us right along towards the big finish…

EXT. REGENT’S PARK - QUEEN MARY’S GARDENS - DAY

Dylan links his arm with Asher’s and then they’re leading the brigade, the A class and all the parkgoers they’ve collected along the way arriving at the beautiful and scenic Queen’s Gardens for the big finish. They proceed amidst the flowers with a flourish, many of them paired up as they dance their way along together -- Zay and Riley, Jade and Nigel, Isadora and Farkle. By the time they make it to the center of the rose gardens, they’re spread out all across the greens, energetically performing the choreography together and spirits most definitely lifted.

Dylan and Dave heft Riley up onto their shoulders at the centre of the crowd, causing her to laugh, as everyone brings it home.

No wonder it’s Riley that we love!

INT. CHARLIE’S CAR - DAY

The sun is just starting to set as Charlie pulls up at Lucas’s requested drop off, the Orlando community center just across the street. Charlie squints at it, confused.

Charlie: Isn’t this Dylan’s place?

Lucas: Yeah. I crash here sometimes. And Randall’s making calzones tonight. Hard to pass up.

Charlie: Oh. Cool.

Lucas: And they’ve got a dog, so.

He lets that be the end of the sentence, like it explains everything. And to Charlie, whose most consistent best friend is Skippy, it basically does. Lucas gathers his stuff and unbuckles his seatbelt.

Lucas: Your reception thing is tomorrow, right? At your church.

Charlie: Yeah. Lots of extended relatives, old people... none of my friends since they’re all out of town. Should be a hoot.

Lucas: Well, good luck with that.

He starts to climb out of the car, then hesitates, managing to do the vulnerable but decent thing.

Lucas: Thanks for the ride.

Charlie smiles, nodding. Lucas opens the door and climbs out, starting to cross the street to the community center. Then he remembers something else, doubling back and stopping in the middle of the street.

Lucas: Hey, Charlie.

Charlie is surprised he’s still being addressed, but more concerned with how Lucas is standing in the road just waiting to get hit by a car. But it’s Lucas, after all -- no fear. Charlie rolls his window down.

Charlie: Yeah?

Lucas: You could do it, too, you know. Your own thing. [ a beat ] I mean it.

Well. That’s an unexpectedly sincere sentiment. And impactful coming from Lucas, who Charlie apparently thinks of as the master of unapologetic authenticity. A return gesture, maybe, for the favor of driving him all that way.

That’s all he’s going to get at the moment, though, because that’s about as much vulnerability as Lucas can stomach in one day before he starts going into organ failure. He doesn’t give Charlie the chance to respond, jogging the rest of the way across the street to the community center and disappearing inside.

But it’s enough. It clearly lands with Charlie, leaving a mark… and making him think. After a moment, he pulls out his phone, dialing a number.

Charlie: Hey. We need to talk.

INT. LONDON HOTEL - TECHIE ROOM - NIGHT

Westminster was a bad idea for the boys, as now they’re obsessed with the Bloody Mary myth. Nate and Jeff have come over to join Dave and Yogi and they’re all crowded around the bathroom mirror, actively working to summon the vengeful spirit.

Nate: No, no, shut up. Shut up. Everyone has to commit to this. She’s not gonna come if we half-ass it.

Jeff: She’s not gonna come period.

Nate: That’s exactly what I fucking mean, Jeff. If you’re not committed to the cause, you can show yourself out.

For the record, Jade wishes she could do the same. She’s trying to focus on a book, but the boys are so loud, and there’s nowhere for her to escape to for a break. It’s a relief when there’s a knock at the door, and she’s even more grateful when it’s Nigel on the other side.

Nigel: Wondering if you might wanna take a walk before curfew?

Jade opens her mouth to answer, just as the boys finish chanting “Bloody Mary” at increasing volume. After the third repetition, Jeff screams, causing Nate and Dave to scream in turn... until they realize Jeff was just fucking with them.

Nate: JEFF. WHAT DID I SAY?

Jade blinks, then gives Nigel a flat smile.

Jade: I thought you’d never ask.

INT. LONDON HOTEL - RILEY’S ROOM - NIGHT

Asher isn’t party to the antics in his room, having smartly escaped to hang out with Riley and Dylan before Nate took over. He’s crashed on the bed with Dylan going through pictures that they took over the course of the day. Asher frowns at one that Dylan swipes to, squinting to get a better look.

Asher: What is that supposed to be of?

Dylan: It’s not obvious? [ zooming in ] Look at that squirrel, Ash! They’re like up chilling on the abbey, welcoming us to their domain.

Asher: That’s your favorite picture you took today, isn’t it?

Dylan: Vicar squirrel. Squirrel vicar. I want her to bless our marriage.

They drop the conversation when Riley reenters the room, freshly showered and looking more at ease than she was most of the day. They ask if she’s feeling better, if the shower helped, and she confirms it did.

Riley: I really think it was just mainly the shock, you know? A lot of information to process at once that I wasn’t prepared for.

Asher: Totally. I get that.

Dylan: But it’s okay to be upset about it, too. Like, just because it’s not news you wanted to get. You’re allowed to be bummed about things not going the way you planned.

Maybe so, Dylan… though that’s obviously not easy for Riley to accept. She’s all about validating her friends’ emotions, encouraging them to feel whatever they need to feel, but it’s not so easy to practice what you preach.

Asher commiserates about unideal circumstances, though, as it’s his turn to complain about the wi-fi. He comments it’s like this place may not even have it at all… are they sure it’s not just a ruse? But his theory is disproved moments later when Riley’s phone starts buzzing, getting an incoming call.

Asher: Of course…

Dylan: You are so magical.

Riley’s expression lights up when she sees who it is, a picture of Lucas surrounded by kittens at the shelter appearing on her screen. She answers immediately.

Riley: Hello?

INT. ORLANDO HOME - DYLAN’S BEDROOM - NIGHT

The United Kingdom is intercut with Lucas back in Manhattan, changed out of his nicer clothes and back in a tee and comfortable sweats for the night. He smiles lightly when he hears her voice, realizing the call managed to go through. On the bed behind him, Dylan’s St. Bernard dog Mr. Puff is resting, idly watching Lucas move around the space.

Lucas: Hey. I got your message.

INT. LONDON HOTEL - RILEY’S ROOM - NIGHT

They’re connected, yes, but the service is spotty at best. Their voices get a little warped and Lucas cuts out for a moment, prompting Riley to start moving to find the best signal. She tells him to hold on, but to keep talking so she can see how he sounds. Dylan and Asher perk up.

Asher: Is it Lucas?

Dylan: It’s Lucas! HI, LUCAS!

Riley: Shh, I’m trying to listen!

Asher: Let’s go, Lucas James!

Dylan: LET’S GO, LUCAS JAMES!

Riley cracks up, shushing them as she continues to hover into different parts of the room. Finally, she seems to find a solution, heading towards the small balcony while the signal improves with every step. She grants Dylan and Asher a second to say hi and holds the phone out towards them, letting them shout at their best friend, then she hushes them as she steps out onto the balcony and closes the door behind her.

EXT. LONDON HOTEL - RILEY’S ROOM - BALCONY - NIGHT

With the signal clear and a quieter environment, the two of them can actually hear each other. Lucas admits he only heard about half of whatever just happened in the last minute, but she assures him it was just Dylan and Asher being silly.

Lucas: Sorry I missed your call earlier. I was, uh, preoccupied with something.

Riley: Oh, it’s okay. It wasn’t like a big thing. I just wanted… I guess I just wanted to hear your voice.

Lucas smiles to himself, bashful.

Riley: But we’re talking now, so, it’s all good. Got what I came for.

Lucas: Cool. Good. You said you had news?

Riley: Yeah. Um… [ making herself admit it ] I heard from Tisch. I got waitlisted.

Lucas: Shit.

Riley: Yeah.

Lucas shakes his head, trying to find the right thing to say. Riley fills the silence in the meantime, downplaying it.

Riley: I mean, it’s not a big deal. It’s one school. And you know, it’s like, I wasn’t even sure if I would’ve gone if I had gotten in. So it’s not like everything is ruined, or anything. It was just a surprise. That’s all.

Lucas: Still, that sucks. But they’re shitty anyway if they’re going to put you out like that. They obviously don’t realize what they’ve got in front of them -- especially if Maya got in and you didn’t.

Riley: I don’t know about that…

She’s disagreeing for the sake of cordiality, and she knows Lucas is one-hundred percent biased, but it’s still nice to hear him say it. And given how well they know each other, how close they are, Lucas hits on the true reason it stings so much effortlessly.

Lucas: You’re too good to be a second choice, Riley. If they can’t see that, then fuck them. You deserve to go somewhere that understands exactly how spectacular you are.

And though he acts like he never has the right words, he knew exactly what to say. Riley fiddles with the L charm on her necklace and chews her lip, unable to stop smiling.

Lucas: And anyway, you were stoked about Barnard, right? I feel like we talked a lot about them when you were applying. And they accepted you with a competitive offer, so clearly they know what they’re doing.

Riley: Yeah, they were my top choice otherwise.

Lucas: So you can start thinking about how you want to make the most of that now. You get to focus on all the possibilities, which I know you never get tired of.

Riley: [ with a laugh ] That’s true, I do enjoy possibilities. [ fondly ] Thanks, Lucas.

Lucas: Of course. Any time.

It almost aches, talking to him like this. Being so far apart, feeling so much that she can’t express the way she wants. It’s practically radiating off her, how much she loves him written all over her face.

Riley: I wish you were here. I know it’s kind of silly, because it’s only been a couple of days, but I miss you. A lot.

Lucas: [ after a moment ] Me too.

But he isn’t there, so they’ll have to make do. Riley isn’t ready to say goodbye yet, especially since there’s no telling when the next chance she’ll have decent wi-fi will be, so she keeps the conversation going.

Riley: I thought about you a lot today, actually. We went to Regent’s Park, and they’ve got a zoo...

Lucas climbs onto Dylan’s bed next to Mr. Puff, reclining back and settling in for a while.

Lucas: I hope you’re going to elaborate. [ softly ] Tell me about it.

So she does. Riley drops into a sitting position on the balcony, leaning back against the metal bars and launching into a thrilling recap. As the camera drifts downwards to the room a couple floors below...

Jack, pre-lap: Sounds like you’re handling it well, then.

INT. LONDON HOTEL - ERIC’S ROOM - NIGHT

Eric is on the phone as well, though he has the luxury of the international phone plan so he can comfortably sit at the desk in his room rather than cram onto the balcony. He’s just finished catching Jack up on the trip so far, and yes, the fact that no one has gotten injured or disappeared is a source of weary pride. Jack assures him that everything is running smoothly on the home front too when he asks.

Eric: Look at us, dividing and conquering. What’s that known as… could it be effective leadership? No idea what Yancy thinks he’s got on us.

Jack: To be fair, your leadership capacity was never in question.

Eric: No being fair to that man. He’s a hack, and he’s wrong. Moving on.

Jack laughs, Eric pleased with how he’s managing to keep him in lighter spirits.

Eric: You’ll be happy to know, actually, that I’ve been giving your proposition some thought.

Jack: [ tentatively hopeful ] Really? About filling out the principal application?

Eric: Don’t get too excited, I just said I’m thinking about it. But you may have made a few compelling points.

Jack: I often do.

Eric: What would be the harm in the practice of it, you know? Could be good to flex those muscles. And I know it wouldn’t go anywhere, since like I said, you’re the ideal candidate. So… I don’t know. Maybe it would be worth the time. I’m considering it, at least, so I hope you’re pleased.

Jack: Eric, I have no doubt in my mind that you would make an excellent principal. Especially at Adams.

Wow… Jack sounds pretty impassioned about that concept, especially for something only hypothetical. But it touches Eric all the same, his expression not looking all that different from how Riley’s looked while talking to Lucas.

Eric: Well, I should go. My night to do curfew rounds.

Jack: Best of luck, authoritarian-in-training. Make me proud.

Eric: Still stand by my stance that it would be better if you were here.

Jack doesn’t seem inclined to argue with that. But for now, nothing to be done. The two exchange goodnights and warm wishes, Eric smiling as he hangs up the phone.

INT. LONDON HOTEL - LOBBY - NIGHT

Jade and Nigel have lost track of time, situated in a couple of comfortable chairs in a small corner of the spacious lobby. They’re deep in conversation, the casual traipse around the hotel having shifted into a philosophical, meaningful chat that neither of them want to end.

Naturally, they’ve drifted to talking about the future, contrasting it against the minor vent session Jade already had in regards to the techie boys. She admits that she doesn’t really think it’s their fault, her irritation. It’s more about her.

Nigel: Why do you say that?

Jade: This is going to sound crazy, but I’m like… I feel like I’ve outgrown it. All of it. Does that make sense? Like, I love the techies. They’re like my brothers, they’re family. And I love being part of the A class. But the way everyone feels, this kind of drama around everything ending or whatever… I don’t feel that. If anything, I’m ready for something new. Sometimes it almost feels like it can’t get out of here fast enough. [ with an embarrassed laugh ] Does that make me a bitch? Am I way more soulless than I thought?

Nigel: I don’t think so. And I definitely don’t think you’re a bitch.

Jade: That’s impressive, considering the amount of Jade-specialty vent sessions you’ve had to listen to by now.

Nigel: You’re human. And remember, even your harshest mood is probably still leagues kinder than Maya Hart on any given day. Don’t forget context when you’re self-analyzing your own ugly emotions.

Good point. Jade runs a hand through her hair, tilting her head as she listens attentively to his perspective on it.

Nigel: But honest, it doesn’t make you a bitch. I get what you mean. Everyone is going to come around at different times, and deal with change in their own way, but I’m excited about what comes next. I think you said it right, the thing about outgrowing Adams. It’s not that you don’t appreciate it, and the people are always going to be family. But we’re ready to move onto the next thing. That’s okay. That’s a good thing, actually, most people would probably be jealous of how ready for it you are.

There is truly nothing so bonding and validating as a late-night conversation with someone you love. Jade smiles, grateful. She reaches out and takes his hand.

Jade: At least there’s one thing I know I’m never going to outgrow.

Aw… yeah, it’s kind of crazy to remember how long Jade has had feelings for Nigel. And it’s true that even as they’ve changed, she hasn’t outgrown them -- they’ve simply matured with them. Nigel beams, lifting their hands and planting a brisk kiss on her knuckles.

It would be nice if they could outgrow their rotten luck on this trip, though. They’re startled out of their quiet comfortability when Eric comes into the lobby on his rounds, spotting them sitting there. They blink at him, realizing they probably shouldn’t be hanging around in the lobby, and Nigel quickly checks his watch.

Jade: What time is it?

Nigel: Oh, shit --

From where he’s staring at them, dreading having to actually reprimand someone, Eric releases a pained sigh.

Eric: I really didn’t want to have to be an authoritarian…

EXT. LONDON HOTEL - ROOFTOP - NIGHT

The view from the top of the hotel isn’t the best, looking down on the streets of London and other hotels, but tonight is a little more interesting. There’s a night market going on, with vendors selling various cuisines and tourists who don’t have curfews wandering around. A SITARIST gently strums, creating a calm atmosphere.

Chai, who watches the scene from the rooftop, is anything but calm, though. She paces around, chewing on her nails as she waits.

When Isadora opens the door and creeps out, Chai drops her arms and halts. 

Isadora: I got your text. 

Chai: [ passive aggressive ] Nice of you to show up.

Confused and uncomfortable, Isadora asks what’s going on, to which Chai rolls her eyes. 

Chai: What do you think, Isa? [ off Isadora’s visible confusion ] You’ve been pushing me away this whole trip. No, even before the trip. I feel more like your annoying friend you secretly hate than your girlfriend. I’m fed up of it.

Oh. Isadora isn’t sure what to say to that. A STAFF MEMBER gets up from where they’re sat in a smoking area. They put out their cigarette and mutter a good luck to Isadora as they pass. She’s gonna need it. 

Chai: Why? I deserve to know. Did I do something wrong? Do you not want to be together anymore? What is it? 

Isadora: I… I don’t know. 

Chai: [ with a scoff ] You don’t know. Wonderful. That’s great, Isadora. Real great.

Isadora gets angry, not appreciating being shouted at. 

Isadora: What do you want me to say? Sorry? I’m sorry I offended you, Chai. There. 

Chai: I want you to tell me what’s going on with you! I may not be your therapist or Eric, but I’m your girlfriend and I deserve to know why you’re treating me like this. I deserve to be recognised.

Tell her, Chai. All of Chai’s frustration and anger over being ignored and feeling invisible yet again comes out as she vents. While this helps Chai feel somewhat better, as expressing your feelings always does, it overwhelms Isadora. She wraps her arms around herself and chews her lip. 

Chai: Relationships take work, Isa. If my parents divorce taught me anything, it’s that communication is key. But you don’t talk to me. You can’t even stand to be in my presence. It’s not fair. Either break up with me or act like my fucking girlfriend and COMMUNICATE!

Isadora opens her mouth, but nothing comes out. Rather than give Isadora time to process everything she just said, Chai snaps that this just goes to prove her point. Her patience has worn too thin to be considerate. 

Isadora, quietly: Are you saying you want to break up? 

Chai: If that’s what you want, yes. I don’t want to be strung along when you want out.

Is that a yes or a no? Isadora isn’t sure. There’s no time to clarify, because Eric comes out of the rooftop door. Both girls turn to look at him. 

Eric: One of the staff told me two Americans were up here. You two okay? 

Chai, flat: Dandy. 

Eric: … great. It’s past lights out, so I’m going to have to punish you both I’m afraid. 

Chai: Fine. I don’t even care anymore.

Chai shoots one last glare towards Isadora before moving past Eric and heading downstairs. Yikes. Eric frowns, concerned. 

Eric: What’s going on there? Do you want to talk about it? 

Isadora, snapping: No. Leave me alone.

She marches through the door and into the lift, pressing the button for the lobby before the doors slide shut. 

Eric: Wait, where are you going? Your room is on the third floor. Isadora?

It’s too late. She’s gone. With a sigh, Eric pulls out his phone and enters the stairwell. 

Eric, into the phone: Harper? You’re gonna have to take over for me…

EXT. LONDON - NIGHT MARKET - NIGHT

Isadora steps out of the hotel into the colourful, lively night market. No longer in her clothes from the day, but a ‘60s punk inspired look complete with hair sticking up in spikes, heavy eye makeup and a leather jacket with chains on it. Despite the world around her being in colour, Isadora herself is in black and white.

Song Cue ♫ ♪ “Paint It, Black” as performed by The Rolling Stones || Performed by Isadora De La Cruz

The sitarist strums to start us off. Isadora gets a couple of coins out of her pocket and drops them into the sitarist’s open case. The gentle-looking Indian man gives her a nod in gratitude, and when Isadora nods in return, the drums kick in. In an instant, the sitarist transforms. He’s now dressed in punk clothes, and becomes monochrome like Isadora, who sets off down the street.

I see a red door And I want it painted black No colors anymore I want them to turn black

She sings in a flat voice, staring dead into the camera, unaffected by the jovial people around her.

A few feet behind her, Eric struggles to catch up as he moves through the crowd. While Isadora channels her inner Medusa and turns the people and scenery around her into a black and white 60s pink fever dream, Eric remains in colour and modern.

Isadora passes a flower stall and picks up a handful of colourful flowers.

With flowers and my love Both never to come back

She scrunches up the flowers in her fist, the now colourless petals fall to the floor. When Eric gets to the florist, he apologises and gives them some money for the ruined flowers.

Isadora arrives at the end of the street where she can look at the river Thames in the distance. The last of the sunset reflects on the water, the only remaining colour around her.

If I look hard enough Into the setting sun My love will laugh with me Before the morning comes

She finishes off the performance in the same spot, dancing like a punk rocker in a mosh pit. She slows to a standstill and looks across at the sunset.

I wanna see the sun Blotted out from the sky I wanna see it painted, painted, painted Painted black, yeah

A downpour of rain brings an end to the performance, melting away the monochrome and punk as it drenches everything. Isadora allows the rain to shower her, but Eric -- who’s finally reached her -- covers his head with his arms. 

Eric: Are you done being an angsty teenager now? 

Isadora: Yes. 

Eric: I’m going to have to add another punishment for this, you know that, right?

They walk back to the hotel as the vendors pack up their stalls and tourists run inside for cover. Isadora is certainly more colourful now with her green hair, but she still looks just as punk and angsty as before. 

Isadora: Whatever.

She quickens her pace so that Eric lags behind. He shakes his head. 

Eric: Adopt a teenager, they said. It’ll be so rewarding, they said.

EXT. LONDON HOTEL - DAY

 The A class is filing onto the bus the next morning, Freya standing by the doors and helping count as they board while Simon flatly delivers a rousing explanation of their itinerary for the day. They’re on their way to the National Theatre, so better get ready for some fantastic playacting.

As the techie boys board the bus, they each greet Freya cheerfully, mimicking tipping their hats at her. For her brusque demeanor, she seemed relatively charmed by their silliness.

Meanwhile, Harper and Eric have pulled aside Jade, Nigel, Chai, and Isadora. Harper has taken over the tough love authority role, informing them that due to their breach of curfew yesterday, it’s been decided that they will spend the remainder of the day separated. Nigel and Jade attempt to plead their case.

Nigel: We really weren’t trying to skirt curfew. We just lost track of time.

Jade: I’ve been a perfectly rule-abiding student my entire career at Adams.

Isadora, helpfully: You participated in the techie revolt.

Jade: [ without looking at her ] Thank you, didn’t ask for your input. Mister E, you know we weren’t doing anything wrong. Please.

Eric, reluctantly: Being out past curfew is doing something wrong, Jade. You and Nigel will have plenty of time to spend together on the rest of the trip. [ nodding towards the bus ] Let’s go.

Jade sighs, spinning and heading towards the bus in defeat. Nigel waits a moment and then uncertainly follows, not sure exactly how much distance he’s supposed to put between them. Harper and Eric turn to Chai and Isadora.

Eric: And Isadora, your extra punishment for leaving the hotel on your own --

Isadora: You were with me the entire time. 

Eric: Yes, but you left without me. I simply followed you. Regardless, your extra punishment is no spending money for two days. Every time you leave the hotel, or group, without supervision or permission, another two days will be added. 

Isadora: I’m eighteen, I can spend my money if I want to.

Eric gives her a warning look. Not one from the school trip supervisor, but one from a dad. Isadora sighs and nods.

Harper: Any other arguments from you, ladies?

They glance at each other, still fuming from their argument. Chai shrugs, projecting aloof.

Chai: A little space will be nice, actually.

She turns to go, marching towards the bus. Eric watches the exchange, eyeing Isadora curiously. Ready to talk about it yet? Isadora shakes her head defiantly, not in the mood. She stomps away, Harper offering Eric a supportive pat on the back. Being the authority ain’t no joke!

INT. NATIONAL THEATRE - LOBBY - DAY

Simon and Eric make sure each of the students has a ticket to the production they’re about to see of Oliver! Harper instructs them that although they can’t control which seat they get, they’re welcome to swap amongst themselves if they see fit like the plane.

INT. NATIONAL THEATRE - OLIVIER THEATRE - DAY

Farkle has settled into his seat, one of the first in the class. As fate would have it, who should have the seat next to him but Isadora. They exchange smiles when she drops down next to him, Isadora already more relaxed than she’s been on the rest of the trip so far.

Farkle: We’ve got to stop meeting like this.

Isadora: Why do you make everything weird? Stop.

Farkle: I’m just saying, there’s some kind of karma going on here that you and I somehow always end up stuck together. I’m just not sure which one of us is getting punished.

Isadora: Mutual destruction.

Oh, aye. Farkle nods, accepting that with an amused smirk. He does ask though if she didn’t bother to try and swap a seat so Chai can sit with them. Isadora shrugs.

Isadora: We can’t anyway. We got banned from interacting today.

Farkle frowns, bewildered. He starts to question further, but they’re interrupted by Maya arriving to join them. She plops into the seat on the other side of Farkle, greeting them brightly.

Farkle: You too, huh? Guess we really are tied by the red string.

Isadora: Strangled, maybe.

Maya: What? Oh, no, this wasn’t luck. I threatened Yogi into trading with me. [ with a beam ] Should be a jolly good show.

Another ominous statement that needs elaboration… but no time. The lights dim, signaling the start of the show as the orchestra tunes below. Farkle and Isadora exchange a look, the latter playfully bumping his elbow on the arm rest between them as they settle in for the first act.

INT. GARDNER HOME - CHARLIE’S BEDROOM - DAY

Charlie is nearly ready for his reception, looking cute and polished in his khakis and dress shirt. No tie yet though. He pulls on the navy suit jacket and adjusts the sleeves, touching up his hair in the closet mirror. It needs to look combed and styled just the right way so that most of his guests won’t even notice the length.

Rosie knocks on the door, stepping inside the room when Charlie nods her in. She’s dressed in a cute floral sundress.

Rosie: You look like a nerd.

Charlie: Wow, thank you, dear sister of mine. What a nice thing to say to me, on this, the day of my celebration.

Rosie: I didn’t say it was a bad thing. It’s just a fact. And you are a nerd, so it’s fitting.

Charlie: You look nice, though. Bit bold on the eye makeup. I mean, I don’t mind, but don’t you think mom is gonna say something?

Rosie: Who cares? And honestly, no. You are the sole recipient of her smothering attention today -- I’m just the errand girl. [ holding out her hand ] She wanted me to bring you this, so you didn’t forget it.

A Yale lapel pin. Just in case anybody forgets for five seconds that he got accepted. Charlie takes it, barely hiding his reluctance.

Charlie: Great. Thanks. I’ll be down in a second.

Rosie nods, then hesitates. It’s obvious there’s something on the tip of her tongue, something she wants to say… but she doesn’t really know how to say it, or maybe even really exactly what it is, so she doesn’t try. She retreats and leaves Charlie alone.

Charlie looks at his reflection again, really scrutinizing it. It’s going to be a long day of presenting… he needs to brace himself as much as he can. He goes to get some fresh air, stepping out onto his balcony as the orchestration kicks up…

EXT. GARDNER HOME - CHARLIE’S BALCONY - DAY

Song Cue ♫ ♪ “Where Is Love?” as performed by Oliver! London Palladium Cast || Performed by Isadora De La Cruz, Farkle Minkus, Riley Matthews, Charlie Gardner, and Zay Babineaux

[ Lyrics specific to characters -- follow along here! ]

Charlie leans against the rail of his balcony, turning the Yale pin over in his fingers. A shiny accessory for all those shiny stats… he sighs, looking out to his neighborhood and closing his eyes. Absorbing the temporary calm.

INT. NATIONAL THEATRE - OLIVIER THEATRE - DAY

At the same time, the production of Oliver! is in full swing, teeing up the famous track. Our key A class players watch with varied levels of interest, the actual Oliver actor kicking off the song with the first verse.

Then, things get a little interesting. Smooth transitions and creative camera angles allow us to seamlessly move from one performer to the next, creating a tapestry of interpretations.

Isadora picks up the slack first, echoing the sentiments of the show as she takes over the next couple of lines from her spot in the audience next to Farkle. Her expression is pensive, heavy, speaking to any number of things -- her late mother, her fracturing romance, her friends going in any number of directions. She and Farkle harmonize on “that’s only meant for me,” cueing the first transition…

Only it seems at first glance like the actual performer is taking back over -- and that’s because Farkle is now occupying the stage. He’s inhabiting the role of Oliver (finally reaching his peak as sickly Victorian orphan), dressed in the costume and smeared with dirt, but fully immersed in the performance. It isn’t until his actual self chimes in, taking over halfway through and watching himself from the audience, that we understand his take -- is love the dream, the art, the opportunities he could chase to a stage in Los Angeles… or is it sitting right next to him, not wanting him to go anywhere? He glances at Isadora, contemplative.

‘Til I am beside the someone who…

Riley and Farkle’s vocals overlap next, and she takes his place on the stage. Only her set up is different -- stripped down, simplistic, and she’s plain-clothed -- and there’s only one member in the audience. She looks directly at an imaginary Lucas as she sings the famed title lines, eyes shining and the world just the two of them. The only audience she cares about; the one who has been elevating her to be more almost since they met.

Where is love?

EXT. GARDNER HOME - CHARLIE’S BALCONY - DAY

Charlie examines the Yale pin, growing more and more averse the longer he does. He knows for sure that it isn’t love -- that there’s nothing he’s more apathetic about -- but if Yale isn’t the answer, what is? If not there, then where? Where does he truly belong?

Who can say where she may hide Must I travel far and wide?

Zay’s vocals ease in and harmonize effortlessly with Charlie’s, the screen splitting in a fade to show both of them as they share the next line. Then focus is solely Zay’s for a moment, him standing alone on the empty stage.

INT. NATIONAL THEATRE - OLIVIER THEATRE - DAY

There’s no one watching his performance, his question more of a shout into the void. With everything so frozen in time, on every front, he has to wonder when things will resume -- when someone will start putting him first again, that he can mean something to.

Then he prompts the final crescendo, all of the vocalists joining back together for a strong harmonized finish.

EXT. GARDNER HOME - CHARLIE’S BALCONY - DAY

As the orchestration peters out, Charlie takes another look at the lapel pin… then pockets it, choosing not to put it on. He heads back into his room.

INT. NATIONAL THEATRE - OLIVIER THEATRE - DAY

The audience breaks into applause as the performer wraps up the rendition, the A class clapping along. The production rolls right along, oblivious to the projection the ensemble just imagined through the performance.

INT. CHARLIE’S CHURCH - BANQUET HALL - DAY

Charlie’s reception is off without a hitch, a pleasant and charming gathering set up in the lovely banquet hall of their church. It’s well-attended for a graduation party, though it’s anyone’s guess how many of those people are there for Eleanor versus the actual man of the hour. She’s clearly in her element, entertaining a gaggle of church ladies and getting ample opportunity to brag about her golden son and all his accomplishments.

Eleanor: That’s right, Yale. Oh, we’re so excited. And you know, I don’t want to jinx anything -- but he’s been quite friendly with one of his good friends these last few months. Riley?

Trina: Oh, of course. You’ve mentioned her plenty.

Danielle: And we saw the prom photos! Such a gorgeous duo.

Maitland: Eleanor… you’re not saying --

Eleanor, coyly: I’m only saying, ladies. Keep your ears to the ground -- there might be some big news on that front any day now.

Well, I wouldn’t bet your pass to Heaven on it, Eleanor. The ladies twitter enthusiastically anyway, though, all sold on the concept of dear, darling Charlie perhaps announcing a commitment to Riley Matthews.

As misrepresentative as that sentiment is, Charlie isn’t completely without peers of his own. EVAN SCOTT has shown up to offer his congratulations, chatting with Charlie comfortably by the gift table where he’s easily accessible for guests to come and pay him well wishes. It’s nice of Evan to show up, and Charlie clearly appreciates it -- perhaps an actual friend came out of the hell that was Haverford after all.

Evan: I’m sure the rest of the guys would’ve come too, but I guess there’s a lot going on right now. Lots of post-graduation travel, you know?

They’d have to be invited to even know to show up, Evan, and even if they were, Charlie knows damn well that would never happen. He offers a tight smile anyway, opting not to get into it.

Charlie: Totally. Ha ha.

He’s about to gain another unexpected ally. He nearly falls over when Rosie bolts over and rams into him, speaking so fast and in a hushed whisper that he can’t even understand her.

Charlie: You excuse me for a second, Evan? I think my sister’s been possessed.

Evan laughs, giving them space. Charlie gets Rosie to calm down, instructing her to speak slowly so he has even a chance of understanding what’s got her so energized. She’s breathless, and her eyes are wide.

Rosie: Bridgette. She’s -- did you know that she was -- Bridge, she’s --

Her name was all Charlie needed to hear. He stabilizes Rosie by steadying her shoulders and then glances around her, looking towards the doorway.

Lo and behold, the rumors are true -- and spreading quickly throughout the congregation. Bridgette Gardner has arrived, timid but decisively, making an unexpected and triumphant return to the fray. She’s at least spared Charlie the drama of wearing a lace bralette by showing up in a casual but classy black jumpsuit, but her mere presence is enough to get people talking no matter what she chose to wear.

She and Charlie lock eyes, the latter breaking into a smile. Yes, it’s clear he was actually expecting her. He ignores all the eyes on him as he makes his way across the room and goes to greet her at the entrance, then suspends any potential assumption that she isn’t welcome by pulling her into a hug.

Well, this is guaranteed to be the talk of the event when everyone heads home this afternoon -- forget all of Eleanor’s careful planning. The woman herself is shell-shocked, doing her best to maintain appearances and appear unflappable but obviously stunned by the surprise arrival. Ambrose stares from across the room where he’s chatting with other husbands, equally caught off guard but seemingly not affronted by his daughter’s sudden reappearance.

Bridgette and Charlie pull apart. She scans the room around them, the nosy partygoers eyeing them with rapt interest, then raises an eyebrow at him. She offers a brave smirk.

Bridgette: Nice tie.

She’s right, it is a nice tie -- and she’d know, since she picked it out. Charlie glances down at it, a tasteful but simple floral pattern in soft blues, greens, and purples. Fresh, understated, and far more like Charlie than anything else picked out for the reception.

He returns her smile, then invites her further into the party.

Grace, pre-lap: So you think it went well?

INT. LUCAS’S APARTMENT - KITCHEN - DAY

Lucas and GRACE FRIAR are chatting at the kitchen table, Lucas helping her go through bills as they recap the gist of his interview. It’s hard for him to say, but all things considered, he didn’t think it went poorly. There’s a chance, at least, which is more than Lucas usually has to go off of.

It’s clear from the expression on her face that Grace is proud of him. She doesn’t know how to articulate that, and she’s only able to really show it in the moments when he’s not looking, but the glimmer in her eyes and small smile on her face leave little room for doubt.

She reiterates that she hopes it works out, because they really need the financial support. Going through the bills just makes that all the more clear… but she thinks he can do it. He can get the aid. And he’s been saving all that money to supplement it -- which he’ll need every cent of, to be sure -- but it could really happen. He might get out of here.

Lucas is obviously trying to keep his expectations subterranean levels of low, but even he has an excited edge to his voice when he talks about it. They transition to discussing the rest of the day, Grace asking if he’s got plans. With Riley and Dylan and Asher out of town, he must be bored stuck here with her.

Lucas: I’ve found bizarre ways to keep myself busy. But I have a quick thing to do in a few minutes, then I’m probably gonna go to the Orlandos again for dinner. I think Randall is making tacos.

Grace, wistfully: That sounds delicious. I can’t remember the last time I had a really good taco. I don’t know what I’m going to be doing for dinner… just pick-up, I suppose.

Lucas: Dad’s not eating with you?

Grace: He has a doctor’s appointment. Said he probably wouldn’t be hungry after.

Lucas: [ with a scoff ] Since when does anyone in this apartment go to the doctor…

He doesn’t bother to hide the bitterness in his voice. But Grace merely shrugs, claiming he just told her about it this morning. She thinks it’s just his annual physical -- something the two of them don’t get the privilege of having, of course -- but that’s all she knows.

Lucas gets up to get ready to go, claiming if she wants, he can ask Randall if she can come over for dinner. She waves him off, not wanting him to go to the trouble, but Lucas insists.

Lucas: Come on, mom. You deserve to have a really good taco sometimes.

Well, when you put it like that… Grace laughs to herself, then shrugs.

Grace: Why not. Better than anything I would throw together here, I’m sure.

That’s settled, then! Lucas tells her he’ll let her know when to head over tonight. First, though, he’s got business to take care of.

EXT. COVENT GARDEN - DAY

Covent Garden is bustling with people, tourists and locals alike. Boutiques line the streets, along with plenty of cafés and restaurants. The class is free to roam on their own (even Isadora), and they have a good couple of hours to do all the shopping they desire (except Isadora).

As the class sets off to explore, Eric thanks Freya for filling in for Harper. 

Freya: Don’t worry about it. Got nuffin’ else to do but sit in my bus, ‘ave I?

Eric is a little bewildered by Freya’s thick West Country accent, not having heard her talk this much before, but thanks her once again. He turns to Simon and asks him to show him where the best coffee is. If he’s going to survive any longer on this trip, he’s going to need a lot more caffeine.

Elsewhere, the techie boys arrive at the square where professional street performers work. There’s a STRING QUARTET playing music that matches the sunny weather and upbeat atmosphere, a CIRCUS PERFORMER walking around on super high stilts in stripy colourful trousers, and… a dog? A DOG MAN? A man’s head somehow stuck in a kennel? Whatever it is, their attention has been caught.

The dog man greets them as they run over to him, his accent northern and his tone depressed. It’s unclear whether the depression is part of the character or because of the fact that he’s playing this character. 

Nate: Dude! This is amazing! Quick, get a pic of me and this guy.

Jeff: Genuinely iconic. 

Dylan: Can I film you for my vlog? 

Dog Man: What the hell is a vlog?

Well, this’ll certainly keep them entertained for a while.

Jade and Isadora are wandering around the fruit market. Both separated from the other half of their couples, but one a lot more upset about it than the other. 

Jade: This whole thing is so insanely stupid. It’s totally cruel to ban us from interacting... we were literally just talking.

Isadora: Is it really that big a deal? It’s like one day. Why do you care?

Jade: ... because he’s my boyfriend? Because we were excited to hang out on this trip together? I don’t know. [ a beat ] You know, Dora, don’t take this the wrong way, but you’ve been a little sharp.

Isadora: No kidding?

Jade: Like I get it, I’m not in the best mood either. But... especially since you don’t even seem to care about your punishment, seems kind of weird.

Someone actually calling Isadora out on her behavior -- someone other than her father figure, that is -- kind of snaps her out of it. She blinks, twisting her fingers together.

Isadora: Sorry. Didn’t even realize.

Jade: It’s fine. I’m just saying. And like, you don’t even have to deal with it, really, since your girlfriend isn’t even here...

Isadora gets lost in thought, contemplating what Jade said. Has she been as barbed as everyone seems to think? Speaking of, where is Chai? And Harper, for that matter?

INT. GUILDHALL SCHOOL - CORRIDOR - DAY

The women sit in a makeshift waiting area along with other hopeful university students and their guardians at Guildhall University, a school dedicated to the musical and theatre arts. Chai seems nervous, but determined, tapping her foot lightly as they wait.

TRUDY, a short middle-aged woman with bright blue hair and a multi-patterned dress on, pushes open a door. 

Trudy: Rebecca Fresco?

Chai stands up and follows Trudy into her final audition. Harper gives her a thumbs up.

Harper: You got this.

Chai gives Harper a nervous smile. The door swings shut.

INT. GUILDHALL SCHOOL - REHEARSAL ROOM - DAY

Along a table sit the ADMISSIONS PANEL. There are six of them, including Trudy, who sits down in her chair while Chai takes position in the middle of the room. 

Chai: I actually go by my middle name -- Chai -- not Rebecca.

Trudy apologises and makes a note of her preferred name. She tells Chai that she’s the only American who’s gotten this far in the process. There are a couple of other foreign students, but they’re all from Europe. She goes on to explain that because this is the first year of their new, experimental arts degree, there’s a lot of things still in the air, and it will be shaped around what the students need and want. 

Trudy: Is there any particular part of theatre arts that you’re most interested in? I know you went to a performing arts high school, so I expect that’s your main focus? 

Chai: It is currently, yes. I’m very open to exploring other areas of the arts, though. My school has a way of bringing people together no matter what their focus is or where their talents lay, so I’ve gotten the opportunity to learn about the technical production side of theatre, too. 

Trudy: That’s great. What do you think you’d gravitate towards when studying here? 

Chai: Definitely dancing and vocal performance, but also stage makeup and costuming. I’m skilled in hair and makeup, and this past semester I’ve been learning the basics of designing and making clothes. 

Trudy: Brill. We can definitely cater to that. [ a beat as she and the others write things down ] Okay. You’ve prepared a performance for this audition, correct?

Chai nods. She has a vocal performance, then a dance performance. One of the admissions people gets the prepared music up on their phone and presses play.

Song Cue ♫ ♪ “I Know I Have A Heart” as performed by Cinderella West End Original Cast || Performed by Chai Fresco & Isadora De La Cruz

[ Lyrics specific to characters -- follow along here! ]

Chai takes a breath, then sings. Her voice is bright and clear and she hits the notes with relative ease. She’s come a long way since the beginning of her journey at Adams and the days of being a backup singer for Maya. What makes this performance so impressive, though, is the passion behind it. The lyrics hit close to home at the moment, and the emotion she expresses packs a punch.

I was so not naïve With no heart on my sleeve Always walked out before I was rejected

When the orchestra comes in, Chai begins to move. She uses the space as if it’s a stage, treating the panel as an audience rather than the people deciding her fate. Her stage presence shines, the role of heartbroken princess a perfect fit.

I was so unaware That I could fall so hard But what good is a heart If you don't care?

EXT. COVENT GARDEN - NEAL’S YARD - DAY

We cut to the person in question, Isadora. She’s in a smaller part of Covent Garden full of colour. Some of the buildings have their walls painted, while others leave the bricks bare and instead paint the window frames and shutters.

Isadora looks through a shop window, then turns as she takes over the song.

Should have known all along That I need to be strong For a girl who's like me There's no happy ending

She walks towards a boutique, fancy dresses and glass slippers in the window. When the music swells into the chorus, she begins to waltz around the yard. We cut between her and Chai, who’s doing the same. A slow dance cut in two.

And it's shattered and bruised And now the laugh's on me Anyone want a heart that's barely used?

We continue to transition between the two as they both take on the final chorus together. They both put all of their anguish and frustration into the song, their vocals even more powerful and heart wrenching when harmonised.

INT. GUILDHALL SCHOOL - REHEARSAL ROOM - DAY

We end on Chai, breathing heavily after the final belt. For a moment the room remains silent, the emotional performance having suddenly made the atmosphere heavy, but then the panel burst into applause.

Chai allows herself a small smile, but knows that it isn’t over yet -- both for her audition, and relationship with Isadora.

INT. CHARLIE’S CHURCH - BANQUET HALL - DAY

Bridgette saunters over to Charlie by the food table, leaning close to speak in conspiratorial tones as she reaches for a carrot stick. Both of them are very aware that all eyes continue to drift towards them, but for once Charlie doesn’t seem afraid of the attention. In fact, in a weird way, he almost feels a sort of pride.

Bridgette: Am I correct in guessing you didn’t let mom in on your little plan to invite me to the party?

Charlie: I don’t know what you mean? Doesn’t she seem completely in the loop?

Bridgette: Mm mm mm mm mm. Blasphemous behavior, and on such a momentous day. What gave you such a dastardly idea, Charlie -- the devil himself?

All jokes aside, Bridgette admits that she’s glad he asked her to come. It’s nice to be with the sisters again, and the look on Eleanor’s face was worth it alone. But it was a pretty sharp change of pace from wanting everything to go “smoothly” -- what made him change his mind? Charlie smiles, shrugging nonchalantly.

Charlie: I can do my own thing now and then.

That doesn’t make much sense to Bridgette, but it’s Charlie. She’s not going to question it. She lightly pinches his side, enjoying the feeling of being co-conspirators again -- but she clams up when Ambrose approaches. He clears his throat, gently getting Charlie’s attention.

Ambrose: Think there might be a bit of a mix up with the guest list. Are you expecting someone else?

You mean, aside from resurrecting the long-lost sister? Charlie looks appropriately confused, following Ambrose’s nod towards the entrance where Eleanor seems to be debating with a wayward soul who she is desperately trying to gatekeep from the party. She’s already had enough trespassers for one reception, thank you very much!

When Charlie recognizes who she’s confronting, his jaw drops open slightly. Lucas?

He exchanges a look with Ambrose before making a beeline for the door, intercepting his mother before she tears a biblical new one into Lucas.

Charlie: Mom, mom, it’s cool. I know him. He’s -- he’s a friend from Adams.

Eleanor: Well, he isn’t on the guest list.

Lucas: I’m not much of a list person.

Charlie: Seriously, mom, it’s okay. I’ll take care of it.

Eleanor remains displeased, but she allows Charlie to take over. She flurries back over to her friends in a huff -- how many other ways could this go wrong? Charlie waits until she’s out of earshot, turning his gaze back to Lucas with a million questions.

Lucas, deadpan: She seems nice.

Charlie: What are you doing here? I mean, not that it’s a problem. Despite the indignation of my mom -- she’s having a rough day.

Lucas: Rest assured, I’m not here to gate crash. I’m in and out; I think if I hung around too long in this place I’d probably burst into flames.

You’re not the only one, Lucas. He continues, removing his hands from behind his back to reveal he’s holding an envelope.

Lucas: I’m just playing messenger.

Charlie raises his eyebrows, looking at Lucas in surprise as he takes the parcel. It’s decently-sized for an envelope, and his name is scrawled on the front in Riley’s familiar loopy handwriting.

When he opens it and pulls out the card inside, though, it’s much more than just a message from Riley. It’s a custom-made card -- with the artistic expertise of Dylan, Asher, and Jade behind the design -- and on the back and all along the inside, his A class peers have written him congratulations sentiments and signed it. Even the teachers contributed, a kind message from Jack, Eric, and Harper present on the inside flap.

And yes, even Zay. He’s found a way to keep it casual while still meaningful, depth behind the message concealed in plain sight amidst all the other well wishes and in spite of how weird things are between them at the moment.

Good job surviving. Wherever the hell you’re going after this, don’t forget where you belong… or whatever 1D would say.

Charlie laughs, a bit choked up. Sure, none of them could be there in person due to bad scheduling, but he was dead wrong if he thought they were going to let him celebrate alone -- least of all when Riley Matthews is involved. 

Charlie: This is great. Thanks for delivering. You can tell Riley it was well-received.

Lucas: My life’s work.

Charlie: Are you sure you don’t want to stay? I know my mom seems scary, but --

Lucas: Believe me, she is far from the scariest thing I’ve ever confronted. But I’ll pass. It’s taco night at the Orlandos, so I’ve got better places to be.

So with that, he’ll leave him be. Charlie thanks him again for bringing the card, letting his focus drift back to the gift once Lucas is gone. Then he lifts his gaze, something across the room catching his eye.

Ambrose has taken the spot he vacated, actually talking to Bridgette. It doesn’t look like the easiest conversation in the world, but it’s something, amicable communication for the first time in years. And if Ambrose is willing to open up the door for her, to give her a chance… well, who knows what he might hear out from Charlie, too.

Charlie can’t help but smile, hugging the card to his chest while he watches part of his family slowly rebuild.

INT. COVENT GARDEN - SHOPS - DAY

The A class are free to roam throughout the centre, Riley and Farkle taking some time to browse for souvenirs. Farkle hesitates when he spots something he’s sure Isadora would love -- an embroidered patch with something darkly silly, a perfect match for her aesthetic -- pointing it out to Riley. She agrees Isadora would like it, he should grab her and show her while they’re there.

Farkle: Well, I was thinking more like…

Farkle stops his own sentence. He was thinking what, that he’d get it for her? That he’d give her a gift for no reason, as if that’s something normal people do? As if he’s not continuing to kid himself, playing into these weird instincts with her when she has a girlfriend and only sees him as a friend?

Farkle: Never mind. I don’t know what I was thinking.

Riley commiserates, commenting that shopping for others can be tough no matter who it is. Like, she’s been keeping an eye out for something to get Lucas all trip so far, but nothing has jumped out to her.

Farkle: Is he that picky?

Riley: No, although that’s kind of the problem. He’s not really a gift person, because he never like… thinks he wants anything, so he’ll basically accept anything and be cool with it. But that makes him impossible to shop for, because there’s not really a clue as to where to begin.

Dylan and Asher chime in from the opposite side of a shelf.

Asher: Seriously, he’s awful.

Dylan: So true, bestie.

Riley: Besides, it’s not even necessarily him that’s the problem. It’s just like… there’s nothing good enough.

Farkle: I’m sure the artisans here will really appreciate that review on Yelp.

Riley: [ elbowing him ] Not like that. I just mean… nothing is going to convey what I want to say properly. [ softer ] No souvenir gift is going to capture how I feel about him. It’s too much.

Doesn’t help that her primary love language is physical touch, and he’s currently thousands of miles away. Sort of makes Farkle’s angst about Isadora feel trivial in comparison. He gives her an awkward pat on the shoulder, though he’s not going to be of any help to her gift dilemma.

Some jaunty, understated guitar floats in, echoing throughout the Garden…

EXT. COVENT GARDEN - DAY

Song Cue ♫ ♪ “Step Inside Love” as performed by Cilla Black || Performed by Covent Street Performer

A new STREET PERFORMER has taken the limelight, gathering the attention of much of the wandering crowd. She’s blonde and spritely like Maya, only with a head of curls, but her vocals pack a serious punch. She’s animated and riveting, delivering a soulful rendition of the classic British tune and earning a decent chunk of change in tips in the meantime.

One of the people captivated by her performance is Maya, who stops wandering the stores to listen. Her eyes sparkle as she gets closer, sensing a kindred spirit in the brassy busker. And she’s impressed by how deftly she can hold a crowd -- the Garden breaks out into applause as she finishes her rendition, Maya an eager participant.

She makes a point of approaching when the crowd has mostly dispersed, launching into effusive praise. The street performer listens with mild interest as Maya… well, does her Maya thing, dramatically insisting upon their twin soul energies and lauding her ability to command a space with her stage presence. That, and she has such admiration for someone like her, out there busting her chops to follow the dream wherever it might take her. Starting from nothing, scrounging towards the goal. It’s inspiring, really.

At this, though, the street performer snorts, catching Maya by surprise.

Street Performer: Oh, fuck me. You think I’m some poor bastard, don’t you? Singing for pennies to earn my daily bread.

Maya: Oh, no. No, I just meant --

Street Performer: Love, I went to a conservatory. One of the top bleeding performing arts programs in the country, at that.

Maya, stunned: What?

Street Performer: That’s right. Class of 2015, in the flesh. Oh, and they promised us everything. Going to such an elite school, with such strong credentials, it was supposed to be a direct pipeline. That’s what they said, anyways. Straight to the West End! Well, look around us -- does this look like the West End to you?

Maya: … no. No, there must be a mistake. If you were to have graduated from a top program, then you wouldn’t be --

Street Performer: I did, and I am, love. Look right in front of you, see me with your eyes. And read my lips: it’s all a sham. I sing because it would kill my soul not to, but it’s a thankless time. Do yourself a favour, jump off this train before it runs off the tracks. Unless you want it to be you wiping your bum with your fancy university degree with nothing to show for it in five years time belting classics for spare change next to a little dog man!

Dog Man: Hey… woof. 

Street Performer: An absolute farce!

Whatever Maya was expecting from the networking moment, it sure as hell wasn’t that. She’s dumbstruck, completely bowled over by this unanticipated reality check -- and not even sure how to move past it. She’s rooted to the spot, the rest of the world continuing on around her as if she’s not even there.

INT. AAA - JACK’S OFFICE - DAY

Jack is working on the final details of his reapplication, all the pieces polished and ready to submit. Just a tweak here and there… but something about the process feels emptier now. Like he’s doing it, but somehow, his heart is no longer in it. It’s hard to see how that could’ve happened, when this place has been his whole entire world for so long.

But there are new paths stretching out in front of him now… if he chooses to follow them. He releases a sigh and leans back, surveying the office that he’s inhabited for so many years. It’s strange to think that he could be anywhere else… but it doesn’t feel impossible anymore.

At the moment, though, he’s sure of one thing -- there’s somewhere else he’d rather be right now. Struck with inspiration, Jack pulls his laptop closer, settling into new work.

EXT. GARDNER HOME - CHARLIE’S BALCONY - DAY

Rosie and Charlie deposit the last of the graduation gifts on his bed for him to go through -- mainly envelopes, lots of money. Rosie scoffs as she sifts through them.

Rosie: I can’t believe this. People are basically paying you for getting through high school. This is such a double standard.

Charlie: What? How?

Rosie: Male privilege. Everyone just loves to hand you cash. You know what they’re going to give me when I graduate? Flowers. And like, probably gift cards to Pottery Barn.

Charlie: Hey, you can find some pretty neat things at a Pottery Barn if you look hard enough. And flowers are nice. I could go for some flowers.

Rosie: Of course you could. Nature boy. But flowers die in like a week, and I can’t buy movie tickets or eye shadow with $15 to Pottery Barn.

Charlie shakes his head, amused. Speaking of nature… the two of them meander their way out onto the balcony, opting for the pseudo-privacy and fresh air. After a full day of church community socializing, it’s nice to take in some quiet for a minute… until Rosie breaks it, surveying his room through the sliding door.

Rosie: Do you think I could swap the blinds on the door for drapes? I’m trying to decide how I’ll decorate once you’re gone and I take over your room.

Um, she thought! Charlie refutes this, claiming there’s no way she’s getting his room. He’s going to college, not military school, so he’ll still need a house to come back to every few months. And sorry, he’s not giving up his sacred balcony that easily.

Rosie: … so you’re planning on coming home? Or like to visit. At least sometimes?

Seems Rosie found an indirect way to ask the questions she really wants to know… Charlie realizes from the subtle nerves in her voice that this is the first time she’s had a sibling leave home since Bridgette. And she might be back now, in a surprise twist, but when she left the first time she really just left.

Charlie remembers how that felt. It would scare him too. He quietly assures her that he’s not planning on going anywhere for too long, and he’s never going to disappear out of her life.

Charlie: No matter where I am, or how long I’m there, you can always talk to me. You know that, right?

Rosie: … yeah. Yeah, I do. [ a beat ] I guess like… maybe I might miss you. Or something. Whatever.

No kidding… Rosie takes the chance to reiterate that Charlie can talk to her, too. About anything. She knows she’s the younger sibling and he’s like weird about taking pride in being the “role model” or whatever, but she’s getting older too. So if he wanted, he could talk to her about stuff. Like with Bridgette. And with him going off to college, there will probably be lots of new things to discuss.

She’s doing her best to tee him up… Charlie exhales a laugh, scratching his ear.

Charlie: Honestly, think there’s still plenty of stuff for us to discuss here.

Rosie: Like what? Daisy’s sudden career in climate change --

Charlie, quickly: That I’m gay.

Oh. Well there it is. Charlie obviously didn’t mean to stumble through it like that, to just spring it on her so haphazardly, but the instant he realized he was actually going to say it, it’s like it just slipped out. And the silence that follows doesn’t make it any less clunky, Charlie keeping his gaze anywhere but at her as he braces for potential rejection from one of the people he cares about most.

But Rosie isn’t going to reject him. In fact, she smiles instead, clearly pleased he finally said it.

Rosie: That’s nice.

Charlie: … you don’t sound surprised.

Rosie: I had my guesses. [ off his expression ] Charlie, you went with me to 1D concerts. You’ve never had a girlfriend. We’ve watched probably forty Riverdale makeout scenes together, and not once did you ever react to Cami Mendes or Lili Reinhart. The only time you ever reacted at all aside from getting all awkward was when I said KJ Apa looked good during a shirtless scene, and you agreed.

Charlie: I don’t even remember that --

Rosie: Also you’re like, the nicest boy I know, and I’m not just saying that because you’re my brother. In fact, the fact that you’re my brother and I’m still saying that shows how ridiculously nice you are. No straight boy is that nice. That was my main reasoning.

Well, damn. You think you’re covering all your bases… anyway, Rosie is just really, really glad he finally told her. That means a lot to her. And she promises, sincerely, that his truth is safe with her. He keeps her secrets and always protects her -- now it’s her turn to do the same.

And that’s clearly a relief to Charlie. His greatest fear was always that he’d fall from grace, that if she knew she’d no longer look up to him, but it seems like the opposite is true. He steps forward and pulls her into a hug, one that she happily reciprocates.

When they pull apart, she throws an “ew” out there, just for the sake of bratty sibling consistency. Charlie laughs and messes with her hair, telling her to ew herself. After a moment of silence, now that they’ve cleared things up, Rosie has a new topic she wants to unpack.

Rosie: So you had a boyfriend, right? Like a secret one.

Charlie: Um, what --

Rosie: Who was it? Charlie, tell me. I have to know now.

Charlie: No. No, mm mm, we’re not doing that.

Rosie: I have theories. Wait, just listen to my theories and tell me if I’m hot or cold.

Charlie: [ heading back into his room ] Nope. Not doing it.

Rosie: You need to tell me! I put research into this! I’m only asking you to hear out my potential suspects --

Charlie: La la la la la --

Rosie eagerly follows after him.

EXT. LONDON STREET - NIGHT

Audition over, Harper and Chai are on their way back to the hotel as evening falls. Chai excitedly talks about the course that she auditioned for and how student-focussed it is. Harper nods along, having already heard all of these earlier in the year when Chai was working on her application. 

Chai: You just don’t get this sort of stuff in America. You have to take so many different classes, you don’t get to just focus on your major. But here, they do specific courses. Honestly, there are degrees for everything under the sun. While I was researching I saw one for stand-up comedy. 

Harper: Not sure how I’d feel if I knew John Mulaney had a degree in comedy. Gives a totally different spin on the college bit he does. 

They change topic to London, Chai reminiscing on her time here as an exchange student and mentioning how excited she’ll be to come back if they accept her. 

Harper: I hate to dampen the mood, and I know you have your heart set on this place, but have you seriously thought about what moving here would mean? 

Chai: What do you mean?

Harper: You wouldn’t be moving here as a high school student. You’d be an adult. That means finding your own housing after freshman year, getting a job, building an entire new network when you already have one in New York. It’s not all red buses and hot accents, Chai. You’re entering the real world, with nobody to help you out. It’ll be damn hard. That’s not to say you shouldn’t do it, I fully believe you can. But you should really think about what studying here will be like.

Chai hadn’t really thought about it from that perspective before. Everyone she knows is in New York. Her entire support system is in New York. Would she be able to hack it on her own on a whole other continent?

But then again, does she really want to stay in New York for people who can cast her aside so easily? Her parents barely noticed she was gone during the exchange programme, and the way things are with Isadora right now… there’s not much tying her to the states. 

Noticing Chai’s now uncertain mood, Harper tries to lift her spirits by asking her if she’s excited for the rest of the trip. This does perk her up, but the questions surrounding her future are still strong in the forefront of her mind.

EXT. LONDON HOTEL - PATIO - NIGHT

Zay has stationed himself on the patio of the hotel restaurant, offering him a decent view of the city as the evening descends into night. Farkle peers out from inside the building and spots him, coming over to join him.

Farkle: Rooming with me and Maya truly that bad? You don’t have to hide out, you know. You could just ask us to cool it.

Zay: You know that joke doesn’t land when you know damn well telling you two to chill would do fuck all. Since when have you ever listened to me?

Farkle: Touché.

Zay: But no, amazingly, not every choice I make is about you. I’m just getting my fix of the nightlife before curfew. Based on how Eric cracked down on Nigel and Jade, I’m not trying to incur his chillingly supportive wrath.

Farkle: Understandable. Especially Eric’s unique brand of scary. Mind if I join?

Zay gestures blasély to the chair next to him, Farkle taking it. He asks Zay, now that he’s observed it so much, how he’d rank London.

Zay: Well, it’s no New York City, but it has its charms.

Farkle: Loyalist, I see.

Zay: NYC is a hellish pit, and I wouldn’t trade it for anything. What can I say, it’s home.

True enough. They settle into silence for a few moments longer, Farkle actually lasting an impressively long time for his usual standard, before he breaks it again.

Farkle: I was hoping to ask you something.

Zay: Just when I thought you might actually manage a peaceful moment.

Farkle: Hey, I was quiet. For like, thirty seconds. And you should know me better than that at this point.

Zay: Unfortunately, I do. [ with a sigh ] Go on.

Farkle: Now that Maya’s told you about the business card… what would you do? If you were in my position?

Zay: I hope you realize that you stumbling into this opportunity, having a bona fide connection to the industry fall into your lap based solely on your talent and potential, and then saying fuck it and throwing it all away would be the most privileged white people shit ever. You do realise that, right?

Farkle: Yes, I’m aware of the potential optics.

Zay: Okay, good. Just checking. Otherwise… I mean, I guess the bigger question is why wouldn’t you? Go after it?

Farkle: Why wouldn’t I?

Zay: Yeah. Like I said, this is the kind of thing basically everyone at Adams would kill to have in their pocket coming out of graduation. And you appreciate that, obviously, if you’re seriously considering it. So that just leaves the question of why not? What’s making you hesitate?

Farkle contemplates the question, not sure he wants to face it. Because it means being vulnerable, and he’s never been especially good at that.

Farkle: I suppose it’s just like… it’s kind of what you said. New York is home. You know? And I know that’s part of what college is all about, leaving the nest and all that, but… I like the way things are here. I like… [ searching for the words ] I know the city. I know the culture, I know the people. I love the people. Everybody I love is in New York.

Zay knows that feeling. He nods.

Farkle: And for a long time… the friends I have now are everything to me. I know what it’s like to have nothing, to have no one in your corner. I don’t ever want to go back to that. I’m just worried that… if I go away, if I put those aside to pursue this thing that might not even pan out… it’s not worth the trade. I know now that it’s not an even trade. And I’m so good at accidentally fucking everything up… [ timid ] I don’t want to risk chasing the dream somewhere unknown if it means losing my team.

Given Farkle’s history, Zay can see how this concern is particularly gripping for him. And the root of his fear is something all of them are feeling -- everything is about to change in a few weeks, they’re all going to go their separate ways, and there’s no way to know that these friendships will hold. Especially if they go in such different directions.

Still, can’t put your life on hold to cling to the way things are.

Zay: I get what you mean. I had my diva phase this year, you saw it, so you know I know what I’m talking about. I get how chasing after one thing can feel like you’re neglecting the other, that this stupid art kind of makes us so crazy that we push everyone else away in the pursuit of it. I think it’s a valid worry.

Farkle: Yeah?

Zay: Yes. But I don’t think that means you shouldn’t do it. I think you just have to find your balance -- which you should be good at now, considering how much damage control you’ve already had to do.

Farkle: Fair point.

Zay: As for the distance… look, I’m not gonna act like I’m some kind of expert. I’ve been in the same place my whole life. I’m not planning to go far if everything goes as planned, least for now. And being away from people you care about sucks, no matter how big or small the space between you. But… sometimes it’s necessary. Sometimes it’s for the better, getting some separation from the way things are.

Farkle: Really? You think so?

Zay: Yeah. I didn’t always, trust me, but it’s like… sometimes I guess it’s like you get stuck, and the only way to get past it and continue to grow is to step back. Branch out on your own, see who you are without that crutch. And the thing is, man, if someone is really your friend, they’d want you to do that. If we’re all just trying to find the best version of ourselves, and someone cares about you, then they’d want that for you too.

Farkle: Huh...

Zay: I don’t know what I’m saying, okay, I’m just talking out of my ass here. I’m not Riley, I don’t have the perfect advice. But I just think that… there’s no guarantee that going somewhere different, leaving the life you have right now, is going to irreparably damage everything. Especially if you’re doing it for a good reason, like pursuing your passion. And if your friends are true friends, they’ll push you towards that goal rather than pulling you back. If someone really loves you, they’ll want to see you at your best. They’ll set you free… and if it all works out, and you come back stronger for it, then even better.

Took Zay a lot of struggle on his own to reach that conclusion, but it seems like he’s pretty sure of it. And Farkle evidently appreciates the honesty, absorbing the sentiments and trying to figure out what that means for him.

Zay: I don’t know if that helps. Like I said, I’m just talking.

Farkle: No, no, you’re -- it does. Thanks, Zay. [ off his nod ] You know, you’re part of it. That team I don’t want to fuck up.

That’s sweet. A little weird, since they don’t really do the whole sentimental thing with each other, but it’s clear it means something to Zay. He clears his throat.

Zay: Well, don’t worry about hopping to LA, then. Your fun facts and trivia are going to kill this thing way before long distance ever would.

It’s true, distance makes no difference on whether he’s annoying or not. Farkle laughs, raising his hands in surrender. Then he grants Zay what he’s been asking for this whole time -- some actual quiet, leaving him be after thanking him again for the help.

Zay settles back in his chair, leisurely rotating his left ankle to keep it loose. Although he’s finally starting to wean off the habit, given how useless reception has been, he pulls his phone from his pocket and nonchalantly checks it anyway. Not expecting much.

So it’s a major shock to discover he has a notification in his email -- from Turner Academy. Even just from the message preview on his lock screen, he can see what it says.

Your portal status has been updated.

Zay jolts upright, cursing to himself. Heart suddenly pounding, his hands shake as he unlocks his phone and pulls up his web browser to log into the portal. He needs the wi-fi to hold together just long enough for him to look… but then he hesitates. Does he want to know? Is he ready to know? Is he prepared to face the consequences of whatever he finds out?

The hesitation only lasts a second. Yes, he’s ready -- he’s been ready. He’s ready for the torture to be over, to have closure either way. He clicks into the portal and selects the dropdown menu for application status, which has a notification bubble indicating it’s been updated.

It takes eons to load with the shitty internet. Zay holds his breath, watching the wheel in the center of the screen spin.

Then it loads. Zay takes a couple of seconds to read… and his expression shifts not to elation or devastation, but confusion. He reads the message again, then over again, even refreshing the page to make sure he’s not getting an error.

But the status displayed remains the same.

Additional Action Required. Please call the admissions office to learn about your admission status.

It takes a few more moments for that to properly sink in. Then Zay frowns.

Zay: What the everloving fuck --

EXT. LONDON HOTEL - DIVA ROOM - BALCONY - NIGHT

Maya is taking in the same scenery on the tiny balcony outside their room, though her expression is far more melancholy. She’s lost in thought, not even noticing when Farkle returns to the room.

He pokes his head out and greets her, leaning back against the doorframe. He asks if she’s okay, as she’s been uncharacteristically demure since they left Covent Garden. She brushes off his concern, claiming she’s just absorbing the spirit of the city before they go waste the next few days out in the middle of nowhere.

Farkle: I wouldn’t call Stratford or Liverpool the middle of nowhere.

Maya: To each their own.

She delivers it with her usual melodramatic snark, but Farkle is right that there’s a muted quality to it. The easy confidence isn’t quite as sharp as it usually is, and a seasoned veteran of Maya Hart can tell the difference.

Still, she assures him that she’s fine, so he lets it be. He suggests she not stay out photosynthesizing too long -- they’ve got an early start tomorrow as they head out of the city. She nods him along, waving off his concerns.

Farkle: By the way, I am seriously considering my choices. I’m going to give the LA opportunity all the thought it deserves. I promise.

Maya, delicately: I know. I know you are.

Farkle steps back inside, gently cracking the balcony door behind him. Maya watches him disappear into the bathroom nook, waiting until she’s alone again to let the facade crumble. She turns to face the city twinkling around her, confidence zapped entirely. It’s clear the words of the Garden performer really hit her, that they’re taking a toll she didn’t anticipate anything could.

Even with the best performing education money -- or scholarship -- can buy, could it still all be for nothing? Is it even worth it? And even more terrifying, is the dream even accessible at all, or is she destined to discover that she’s wasted the best years of her life chasing a passion that she’ll never be able to catch -- even with all the talent, drive, and preparation she can muster?

Could everything she believes in actually be totally, utterly empty?

Song Cue ♫ ♪ “Where Is Love?” as performed by Oliver! London Palladium Cast || Performed by Maya Hart (starting at 2:25)

Acting as a reprise of sorts, Maya eases into her own rendition of the West End classic by singing through the final verse and chorus. But it’s a meek performance, timid in a way Maya never is, real fear and uncertainty cracking the notes in her delivery.

Becoming a star has been her driving force for as long as she can remember. If the dream isn’t real, then where is love?

INT. CHUBBIES - DAY

It seems a day trip to Albany and gate-crashing a graduation party are the fires that forge friendship, because Charlie and Lucas are hanging out again. They’re not doing much, Charlie writing thank you notes at the counter while Lucas goofs off during another slow shift, but they’re choosing to occupy the same space while they do, which is certainly not nothing.

That, and they seem remarkably at ease around one another for having only just really started talking. At least enough to do silly, dumb shit that boys find entertaining -- Lucas has built a catapult out of silverware, assuring Charlie that he’s got many hours of food-flinging expertise under his belt and he’s about to see a champion in action. This is very important, complicated Chubbies work at play. Then he picks a fry off Charlie’s half-finished plate and loads the catapult spoon with it, pausing for dramatic effect.

Lucas: Ready… ready… 3, 2 --

He hits the base of the spoon and sends the fry flying into the air, easily managing to catch it in his mouth. An expert champion indeed, clearly of very important matters. Charlie gives him a round of applause, Lucas holding his arms out in victory and giving a pseudo-bow.

Charlie: Wow. I see why they pay you the big bucks.

Lucas: Damn straight.

Lucas just starts to load the catapult up again when Jack pushes into the diner, spotting him and marching over. He seems a bit frazzled, a man on a mission, but there’s an excitement charging his movements. An almost youthful glow about him, eyes twinkling with a mischief you’d never see when he’s in the halls of Adams.

Lucas: Jack? What are you doing --

Jack: Good, you’re here. I was hoping you would be. [ noticing Charlie ] Oh, hi, Mister Gardner. You’re here too. That’s nice.

Charlie: Um, hi, Principal Hunter.

Lucas: Everything okay? You seem a little --

Jack: You want to go to London?

That stops Lucas in his tracks. His eyebrows shoot up, completely caught off guard.

Lucas: What?

Jack: I’m going to London. You want to come to London? Because if you want to go, we can go. I’m going.

Charlie, uncertain: Maybe I should go...

Jack: Oh, Charlie, you can come too. I’ve got an extra ticket. I was going to invite Shawn, but… you know, you’d actually probably appreciate it more.

Charlie: I -- um -- ?

Lucas, bluntly: Are you on crack?

He sure seems high on something all right. But no, Jack Hunter is one-hundred percent sober, and one-hundred percent serious. He’s cruising on the freedom of new beginnings, and he just might take the two of them along for the ride. 

Charlie: Principal Hunter, sir, I’m --

Jack: You can call me Jack, you know. You’re not my student anymore.

Charlie: … right. Well, Princi -- Jack -- you just said it. I don’t go to Adams anymore.

Jack: Yeah, well, you don’t go to Haverford anymore either, do you? So you’re not really anything, technically. And you know we had you for three years, which is more than enough in my book.

Lucas: I can’t go on the trip. I don’t have the money, remember?

Jack: As if most of your peers aren’t on the trip on their parents’ dime. And I’m here with a spare ticket -- it’s not a matter of “can” you, it’s a matter of “will” you. Obviously, no one has to go if they don’t want to, but that’s exactly my question.

A question that completely turned their worlds upside down. It’s truly crazy, how things can change in the blink of an eye -- one moment you’re wandering Los Angeles, you’re participating in a student protest, you’re signing thank-you cards and catapulting French fries, and in the next an opportunity comes knocking that could change everything.

The question is, do you answer the door? Do you take the leap?

Jack: So? Are we going, or what?

Charlie stares at Jack, dumbstruck, then shifts his gaze to Lucas. Are they? Lucas contemplates the offer… then he locks eyes with Jack.

The subtlest of smiles sneaks onto his face.

TO BE CONTINUED.

END OF EPISODE.

[chilly-me-softly]

Every Little Thing’s Gonna Be Alright • Chapter 18

Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4 - Chapter 5 - Chapter 6 - Chapter 7 - Chapter 8 - Chapter 9 - Chapter 10 - Chapter 11 - Chapter 12 - Chapter 13 - Chapter 14 - Chapter 15 - Chapter 16 - Chapter 17

"Wow girls you are... wow" Ben is pleasantly surprised as soon as he sees the two girls leave the room. Deb immediately approaches him and the two share a tender kiss while Evelyn looks down embarrassed at the compliment, suddenly feeling in their way.

Eventually the three of them make their way to the lift and Evelyn's heart misses a beat every time the lift stops at other floors, opening those doors so slowly it tortures her again and again by showing people she doesn't know, before finally arriving at the right one. And so she suddenly decides to get herself together. She went through a birth weeks before and nearly feels sick about a guy. Absolutely not.

The room is bright and warm, not making her regret wearing a strapless dress at all. There are already plenty of people around, small groups chatting and laughing. Ben at her side places a hand at the base of her back leading them forward to find Gareth Southgate, Harry Kane and his wife a few steps later.

"Ben, good to see you. And with two lovely ladies I can see"

"My girlfriend Deb and my sister Evelyn" he makes the introductions after shaking his manager's hand.

"Oh Evelyn, nice to finally meet you in person. Congratulations on your baby girl" the girl smiles trying to keep from glaring at the guy next to her as she shakes hands with everyone there.

"I'm sorry if he bothered you. My brother doesn't know where to draw the line"

"Nah next training session he'll get what he deserves" Kane teases him making everyone laugh under his brother's mock indignant look.

The round of introductions continues as Ben leads both of them around the room. She doesn't feel as nervous as she had imagined, everyone is so nice and friendly and the fact that she sees almost everyone at least once a week via a screen has helped to make the environment even more familiar despite not really knowing them. But it's only fair because she finds herself on the other side for a few minutes too, experiencing what it feels like to be known by everyone but not be known at the same time. It turns out that everyone seems to know her thanks to Ben's big mouth but if nothing else that had taken the pressure off of finding conversation topics.

"You know who just walked in, get ready" Deb whispers to her while Ben is busy having a conversation with James a few steps away from them. And Evelyn does everything in her power not to turn around, clutching her glass of water wishing it was something more at that moment.

"Oh finally! You're always late mat," Ben comments as soon as he sees Jack, the two of them exchanging the usual handshake as the boy laughs. And her gaze inevitably ends on him.  

The suit wraps his body properly, the tie is perfectly done and for a moment she wonders if someone has helped him. But there is no one at his side and she feels stupidly relieved. Their eyes meet for a brief moment and that is enough to send a shiver down her spine.

"Jack, do you remember my sister Evelyn?"

"How could I not. I mean we spent a whole day putting that cot together, did we?!" he steps forward leaning over slightly to leave a kiss on her cheek. And as he does the same greeting Deb, a trail of his scent reaches her nostrils. He looks so calm, as if nothing has happened, while she is in complete shambles. Again.  

"How's the baby? I hope the cot held up. I wasn't so convinced we'd be able to make it" Evelyn laughs partly and mostly at the absurdity of the situation.

"She's fine. And the cradle too, it's very comfortable. Not that I've... tried it out or anything" she replies, stumbling on a few words, wanting to facepalm herself, miming a gritted 'help me' to Deb when she's sure no one's looking.

"I need a refill. Eve are you coming with me?" Deb points to her glass before taking the girl under her arm and heading for the small bar area.

Evelyn sighs relieved once she walks away as Deb laughs, "Girl you are so hopeless"

"God why do I have to be so stupid?"

"Did I ever tell you about how I met your brother?" Evelyn shakes her head, interested in the story. Her brother had never been a fan of gossip, it was bad enough that he had let them know he was seeing someone let alone the whole story of how it happened.

"I was out with my friends and I was trying to impress this guy"

"You hooked up with my brother when you were interested in someone else?!" she asked amused as Deb shushed her with a hand gesture, taking the full glass and moving a little further aside.

"Let me finish. Anyway what I was saying, oh yeah I was trying to impress this guy. Nice looking bloke... but apparently he didn't see me. I reckon I spent hours dancing, fooling around with my friends trying to get his attention. But nothing"

"Until I practically ran into this guy who smiles at me and says you know it's not worth wasting time on someone who doesn't want you the way you want him"

"Ben" she states almost unnecessarily but Deb nods anyway smiling.

"Turns out he'd been watching me all night instead, only I was too busy being a fool to notice"

"So you're saying I need to look over?" Deb almost rolls her eyes in exasperation.  

"No. I'm telling you to open your eyes and look around. You feel stupid because you're trying so hard to hide your feelings. Let yourself go. If it goes well you'll have a decent person by your side, if it goes wrong... you'll get back up as usual"

"And if you're going to say you have a baby girl, I'm going to slap you. Right here in front of everyone" Evelyn immediately shuts her mouth, not wanting to challenge the girl who is more than capable of doing such a thing.

"You really know how to comfort people" she comments instead sarcastically glaring at her, trying to make her feel guilty at least a little.

"You don't need comfort, just a little push" she winks at her before they are interrupted by Ben dragging his girlfriend away to dance after making sure once again that everything is fine.

Evelyn stands there watching the two of them sway mindlessly in the middle of the dance floor and smiles. She remembers the first wedding their parents decided they were old enough to attend, how they hid under a table for almost half the reception to escape the entertainer and how Ben swore he would never dance like the groom and bride that day because 'too close, too much contact yuck'.

"What are you drinking?" a voice brings her back down to earth and when she turns her head she finds Jack at her side leaning against that counter with absolute nonchalance.

"Water"

"Oh. It definitely takes a bit of alcohol to get through these nights" he says with a hint of hilarity ordering a beer from the person behind the bar.

"I can't. I haven't touched a drop in ages now and I don't fancy making a fool of myself in front of everyone thanks"

"Something interesting. Sure you don't want some?"

"I'm glad my public humiliation excites you so much" Jack laughs before bringing the freshly served bottle closer to his lips.

"Besides, it doesn't seem to me they're forcing you to attend"

"I was so close to not coming in fact. Then I heard you were going to be there" their gazes intertwine as she tries to figure out if he's messing with her or if by some strange twist of fate she's misunderstood. But it's all there, in his ever so penetrating eyes. If she chooses not to see it, it's up to her.

"Are you two getting friendly?" she almost jumps on the spot not having heard him coming as Jack imperceptibly straightens his back.

"Something like that" Jack takes a long swig from his bottle, "I was just telling your sister that without alcohol these evenings are pretty boring"

"You're going to have to start looking for someone or we're going to start calling you Jack the boozer" Ben jokes as Deb scolds him for being rude and Jack shoots Evelyn a look before scoffing at him and taking another sip of that beer.

-

The first thing she thinks of as soon as the signal comes that they can leave is to run to her room as fast as she can to get rid of those heels. She had forgotten how confident they made her feel but also how uncomfortable they were after a while. That's why when Ben and Deb suggest her to go get something to eat with them, she flatly refuses. It's okay, she had a good night at the end and they deserve some time alone too without having to babysit her.

She heads for the lift as the two then head for the hotel exit, not taking long to get into the cubicle. Almost as the doors are about to close a hand blocks them and two people enter the lift. The door is about to close again but it's blocked again and she's about to huff loudly, dreading her plan, when her gaze meets Jack's. He approaches her as the doors finally close and the lift begins its ascent.

There is silence in the cubicle, Evelyn keeps her eyes on the display showing the current floor number, swaying slightly on her knees. When she feels something brush her hand along her side, first imperceptibly, so much so that she thinks she imagined it, then more firmly. The pinkie of Jack's hand searches for hers before intertwining and stupidly something inside her bursts, radiating a sudden warmth.

She doesn't look at him, instead keeping her gaze fixed on that number that keeps going up slowly. But she doesn't even do anything to interrupt that moment, enjoying the warmth released by that contact no matter how small and everything else.

The lift doors suddenly open and before she can realize it, the grip on her hand tightens and she finds herself in a hallway being led by Jack.

"What are you doing that's not my plan" she states confused but offering no resistance, curious as to what he might be up to.

"It's mine" he just says turning his head towards her for a second before taking the key card with his free hand and stopping in front of a door.

"I just want to spend some time with you. I can't waste this opportunity" he admits sincerely and she simply smiles at him waiting for him to open that door.

When she walks inside the first thing she does is let herself fall on the bed kicking off her heels, moaning at the feeling of freedom as Jack smiles closing the door behind him.

"Don't you dare use that against me. They were killing me"

"I didn't say anything" Jack raises his hands holding back a giggle and she tries to glare at him as he places his jacket on the chair nearby loosening his tie before sitting down on the bed next to her.

"Just know that you just ruined all my plans"

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah. I could already see myself in my room getting rid of these heels and this dress, maybe a nice warm bath and a good refreshing sleep"

"Oh you can go if you want"

"Nah I'm here now" she says shrugging and he smiles before laying down next to her. They look into each other's eyes, both studying the other's face as if for the first time, until Evelyn sighs.

"I practically asked Deb never to leave me alone tonight and yet here I am" if she thinks about it it only makes her laugh.

"Were you afraid I might kidnap you?"

"That I might do something stupid actually"

"Like what?"

"Like be alone with you somewhere and-"

"And kiss me again. Is that what you're worried about?" Evelyn sighs closing her eyes but she can still feel his gaze on her, so persistent.

"Do you want to kiss me? Because I want to, so bad" she can hear his desire in his voice and she's thankful her eyes are closed and she can't see his expression too because that's the only reason she hasn't thrown herself at him frankly. She's struggling so much in that moment with her brain, and then here he comes.

"Can you open your eyes please?" he asks softly as she shakes her head, holding her breath when she hears him move.

"You know I stood outside your house I think for at least an hour that day. Hoping maybe you'd change your mind" he whispers catching her off guard, his voice closer now. And finally she gives in opening her eyes looking at him intently.

"Why?"

"Because whatever this is between us it's clear we both feel it Eve. I don't want to dance around it anymore"

"Jack I-"

"And I gave you your space because I knew you would need it. But all I've been doing is thinking about you, thinking about that kiss"

Evelyn sits on the edge of the bed at that point, leaning forward resting her elbows on her thighs and closing her fists in her hair. She feels him do the same as the bed moulds under their weight.

"You scare me. Because you make me feel things I thought I'd never feel again. Not as strong" a few seconds pass in which silence is the main protagonist, before he changes position kneeling in front of her. His hands go to release her hair from that hold, fingers to intertwine with each other.

"I know it's hard to trust and letting you go again after a breakup"

"That's the problem. I feel like I can trust you and that scares me because with Lucas I... we shared so much in such a short time and I even thought I loved him, and with you... I don't want that to happen again, I couldn't bear it"

"Little by little, allow yourself to be happy again. Let me in Eve" Evelyn's body comes forward imperceptibly as she pulls her hands from Jack's grasp, laying them immediately afterwards on his cheeks to pull him to her and make their lips meet. She stops thinking for once, following her feelings. And if she doesn't feel on the clouds, she doesn't know what describes that moment frankly.

"You don't know the confusion in my head right now" she giggles, resting her forehead against his. "I really want to turn my brain off sometimes"

"Oh I'm here for that" Jack grins mischievously pushing Evelyn backwards suddenly, causing her to lose her balance, and lie down next to her as she lets out a choked squeal in surprise before laughing. He moves closer to her again connecting their lips together smiling, he can't help but want more and more.

They can't break away but at the same time Evelyn doesn't want to rush things so she puts some space between them, deciding to take off that dress to get more comfortable and borrowing something from Jack's suitcase. She takes her time in the en-suite bathroom, sorting herself out and admiring in the mirror how those clothes are soaked in the boy's scent and she brings them to her nose stupidly before shaking her head and getting out of there.

Jack has changed too in the meantime, ditching his fancy shirt and trousers for something more comfortable, getting into bed and fiddling with his phone while waiting for her. It's a bit late but neither of them wants to close their eyes because it would mean ending the day and leaving, parting ways again.

"What will happen once we leave this room?" Evelyn voices her thoughts with a sigh causing him to look up from his phone which is immediately pushed aside.

"Come here" Jack holds out his hand to her and she walks over to him settling on his lap and letting his arms wrap around her.

"I'll tell you what's going to happen. You're gonna go back to your beautiful little girl and cuddle her because you've missed her so much and I'm gonna go back to my house and let my dog do that" the girl laughs as he leaves a kiss on her temple, "But we're gonna do everything we can to keep in touch like before or even more because I'm not leaving you now, that's for sure"

"Sorry, I just seem to need some comfort all the time"

"I'm here to give it to you. Whenever you need it. We said little by little right?" she kisses him again and each time a smile arises spontaneously on her lips. It's absurd, at the beginning of the day she had wished for it to pass as quickly as possible so she could go home to her little girl, but now she wishes it would last a little longer so she wouldn't have to be separated from Jack. To stay in that bubble they have created for themselves in those hours and in which they are so comfortable.

They talk and talk over and over until the yawns outweigh the words and then they give up, holding each other for what's left of the night taking all they can before they inevitably burst that bubble and test themselves in the tangled world they live in.

----

Tag: @alexajanecollins @emwritesfootball @rosie7703

Chapter 19

[harrystyleswatermelon-sugar]

You´re still the one

„I am sorry, Y/N. I really am…I don’t know what to do anymore” Harry says and looks with sad green eyes in my direction. I can´t believe he is really breaking up with me.

“Just because you are at a loss, you don’t have to throw away a relationship. Our relationship. I love you Harry. I don’t want to lose you” I say and try really hard to hold back my tears. He sighs very deep and puts his hands in front of his face. He looks miserable and I don’t know why he thinks there is no hope for us.

“Look, I don’t get it. Yesterday everything was fine and today you are coming home from your meeting and suddenly want to break up with me? I am so confused, what the hell happened?” I ask and sob quietly. I thought we were happy, it seemed like he was happy.

“I don’t know, if this is what I want in life. There is so much more and I am so sorry, to hurt you like that. You deserve so much more, than I can give you” he answers and avoids looking at me. Something seems so off.

“Harry, what the fuck are you talking about? I just need you and I am happy with you, aren’t you happy with me?” I am desperate to change his mind, but I simply can´t get through to him, as it seems.

“I don’t know anymore. I just need you to leave. Please…don’t make it any harder…for both of us” he says quietly and I look at his face. The face I love so much. The man, who owns my heart and my soul. I love this man with all my heart and I don’t know if I can take a breakup. We were talking about moving in together as our relationship was getting stronger and stronger. And now this happens. Absolutely unexpected. I feel the tears running down my cheeks and before I start sobbing like a baby, I decide to fulfil his request and leave.

After I called my best friend Y/BF/N I begin putting my stuff together and soon I have everything. It is not too much, because he just came back from tour and I literally arrived two days ago.

“So, this is it, then? You sure?” I ask him and look at his face. His eyes look puffy and red, but I know he did not cry. Maybe he is right before his breaking point, I don’t know. I, on the other hand, definitely am over my breaking point.

“I…Y-Yes, Y/N. It is for our best” he answers and I try one last time, to look him in the eyes, but he still avoids me. I am getting angry and before I say something, I later regret, I take my bag and leave.

This was four months ago and until today, I haven’t heard from Harry. I see his face regularly on some newspapers, mostly with some model at his side. I don’t know if he is happy, but I know that I am not. I am still shocked that he threw our nearly one-year relationship away. I heard from Niall, right after the breakup and here and there he still checks in with me, to see if am doing okay. He just told me on the phone, that Harry is planning on changing his management, the restrictions his current management has are just too much. I didn’t know it was so bad, Harry never talked with me about his work relationships.

“How is he anyways? I always see him with some models on covers, is he doing okay?” I finally ask, we usually try to not touch the topic Harry.

“He is miserable, Y/N. He still misses you so much, don’t believe a word the yellow press is printing” Niall says and my heart jumps. He misses me.

“Why did he break up, then? I mean… the whole conversation seemed so off,” I overthink loudly and I hear Niall laughing into my ear.

“I think it was management, honestly” I can´t believe this really could be the reason. He wouldn’t choose his management over me, wouldn’t he? As soon, as we end our call, I send Y/BF/N a voice memo to tell her what Niall just told me.

Two weeks later I am on my way home in the tube, with headphones on, as my phone announces a new message. I stare at the display. This is a joke. I have waited for so long and now, as I am not thinking of him for once, he texts me.

Hey, Y/N. You´re probably very angry at me, but I need to talk to you. It is rather important; I owe you an apology. Love, H.

What the hell? I hesitate to answer him but when I exit the tube station I know, what I am going to write him. I buy my regular iced coffee and walk down the park. I sit on my favourite bench and take my phone out.

I don’t know what this would change, but if you need some closure…sure, why not. Saturday 2pm, where?

He answers nearly a second later:

Please come to my house, if that is okay. You know, the fans…

I agree and walk home, thinking about this super weird conversation, which is going to take place on Saturday.

Saturday

I am fucking nervous. I am so nervous; my hands are shaking as I know stand in front of Harrys gate. This is insane. Y/BF/N brought me here and she is waiting right around the corner, to take me home, if it goes wrong. If Harry and I are getting into an argument and I want to leave.

My heart is racing and I hope I look decent, to face him. Y/BF/N said I look pretty and not at all desperate to get him back. Because I am. I want my Harry back.

Harry lets me in and as I walk through the small front yard, I can already see him at his front door. He smiles and I can see, that he is in a much better place than when he broke up with me.

“Hi Harry” I say and reject his attempt to hug me. I don’t want to get near him, because if I do, the hope will get back to me. I don’t want it to come back and break my heart once again, if he really just wants to talk it through.

“Hey, Y/N” he answers huskily and leads me into the house I used to have a key to.

We sit down at his dining table and he offers me some water. As he finally sits down next to me, I try to not look too often at him, but I can´t help it. I´ve missed him so much that I just want to hug and squeeze him, bury my face into his chest and breathe in his heavenly scent. He clears his throat and looks at me. Green meets Y/EC.

“I want to apologize; I was such a dick to you. I am really sorry, Y/N. This whole situation was so fucked up and I just broke under all the pressure…management made me do it. I didn’t want to break up with you, but they thought it was for the best. My fans would be more affectionate and all, the said if I don’t get rid of you, they were going to tell the press I cheated on you…I didn’t want that, so I gave in and made the biggest mistake in my life” he sighs and explains without looking away.

“Yeah, I thought about something like that after Niall told me, you changed your management” I answer and he rises an eyebrow.

“Niall? You two are close?” he asks and I see jealousy in his eyes.

“Not really, he kept in touch with me occasionally. Why haven’t you talked to me? I mean…we could have gotten through this” I reply and hear the sadness in my voice.

“You broke my heart, Harry” I add and feel the familiar tingle in my eyes.

“I know and I am so sorry, I don’t know why I did it without talking to you. It was so stupid, please forgive me. I was an idiot” he practically begs me and as his hand touches mine, I look at him. His eyes are sparkling from tears, but he isn’t yet crying.

“It´s okay Harry…I´m over it. You were protecting me in some way and I get it, I am not mad” I answer and he squeezes my hand lightly. His lips curl into one of his beautiful smiles and I can see those cute dimples.

“Are you…over us also? Over me?” his voice is full of hope and I can see, that he is really scared of my answer. How could I ever be over Harry? I mean, he didn’t meant to harm me or hurt me at all.

“How could I, Harry? How could I possibly be over you?” I ask back and see, how he bites his bottom lip.

“So…if I ask you to come back to me and be with me…you would? You don’t need to be concerned, my new management is really supportive and I talked to them and they literally said, that I could do whatever I want as long as I fulfil the contract” he sounds excited and very happy. I entwine our fingers and smile at him.

“And is in your contract anything about girlfriends?”

“Nothing” he assures me and comes closer. “I really want to kiss you right now…am I allowed to?” he adds quietly and I nod, as he moves even closer.

Finally, as his lips touch mine, I sigh in relief. I missed this so much, I missed Harry. I pull him close and he grabs my hips. I am pulled onto his lap and smile against his soft lips. This went way better, than expected.

“I love you so much and I missed you even more” he whispers in my ear, as we hug tightly.

“I love you more” I answer and kiss the little spot right below his ear.

Six months later

Our relationship is better than ever before, I flew in to New York to see Harry perform at Madison Square Garden, which he is so excited for.

“I can´t wait. This is so huge, this is insane” he rambles over and over and I smile at him in the mirror. He gets his hair and Make-Up done and I look over to Kacey. She wears a beautiful rainbow coloured dress and looks fantastic.

“You will be amazing, Harry. I know it, you always are” I assure him and kiss his cheek softly. His bright smile shows all the happiness, he has inside of him. He is just awesome; he loves to tour and he is so happy that his fans are absolutely crazy about him.

“Show starts in 5” someone shouts and Kacey gets up.

“See you later, bye Y/N” she says, smiles at me and winks. What was that for? Harry and I stay back all alone in his dressing room. He wears a blues suit with a dragon pattern on it, he just looks amazing.

“Excited to see the show?” he asks me and I nod. Absolutely.

“I am so happy to be here and see you playing your first MSG show. I am so proud of you, I love you” I answer and he smiles, pulls me closer and wraps his arms around my waist.

“I was thinking about going public? What´d say?” he sounds a bit nervous but I laugh quietly.

“We have been all over the news already, I think everybody know we are an item anyways” it happened, when he got back during a tour break. I picked him up from the airport and some fans got us kissing and hugging at the car.

“Yeah, but I want to announce it official. Would that be alright with you?”

“Of course, Harry. I mean…I will move in with you, as soon as your tour ends, we will be living together. Then there is no more hiding” I smile at him and peck his lips, as someone knocks on the door.

“Your turn in 5 minutes, Harry” an assistant says and Harry thanks him.

“See you after the show, love. Enjoy it, it will be very special just for you” he winks at me and I am even more confused, because Kacey winked at me too.

I kiss him goodbye and take my seat with some other friends of him. The show starts and as his fans go wild, I smile. He is so loved and he loves them, it´s so cute and pure.

The show is phenomenal, Harry has the time of his life and I enjoy every second of it. He jokes with the fans, mocks and mimics them and then he ends his final song.

Surely there will be an encore and soon after, he comes back and calls Kacey onto the stage. They look so good together, its ridiculous. I feel a slight pinch of jealousy creeping up in my heart, but I fight it. I trust Harry, he loves me.

“So, this is my last song for tonight, thank you all for coming. There is a someone special in the audience tonight, my long-time girlfriend. Y/N this is for you, I love you” he says and looks up to us. I turn bright red and see him blowing a kiss in my direction.

He then starts playing and singing You´re still the one by Shania Twain and soon the tears are pouring out of my eyes. This song fits so perfectly to our relationship and our story and it is so romantic and beautiful. He sings his heart out, really.

Backstage, after I tried to fix my face, I find him and jump into his arms.

“You are crazy, Harry. This was the most beautiful song ever” I say into his ear and hug him so tight, that I am amazed, he is still able to breathe.

“I´m glad you liked it. I love you, Y/N. I will never ever leave you again, you make me complete” he says and kisses my cheek.

“Did you cry? Tastes a bit salty” he laughs and I blush lightly.

“Maybe a bit” I lie into his face; it is just too embarrassing.

“Actually, she sobbed. There are videos on twitter and you both are trending topic” Jeff answers and I smile at him. I really like his new manager; he is very relaxed and supportive.

“Positive or negative comments?” Harry asks and puts me back on my feet. I put my arms around his sweaty body and he holds me close.

“Mostly positive, really. They like you, Y/N. Congrats, you guys are now official. Good feeling?” Jeff asks and puts his phone away. Harry looks at me with loving eyes.

“Very good” he answers smiling and I press a kiss on his cheek.

Thanks for reading, guys. I hope you liked it. I was asking myself, if you would like something fluffy or smutty? Would definitely be a challenge for me. Let me know.

Have a good start into the week,

Love, xx

[mj-spooks]

Alright, judging by how successful that last Harry Potter experimental question was, Buffy's scooby gang, as a Leverage Crew? Is it too simple to say Buffy as a hitter and Giles as a mastermind?

Which version of the gang are we talking here? Can I go across the whole series? Season 1 only? All Stars? Fuck it I’m cherry picking because THAT’S HOW WE DO.

So, Giles is absolutely on the money. He’s the Mastermind, no doubt. He’s the watcher, he trains the others (mostly Buffy and Faith, but let’s be real, he trains all of them in their own way), he’s the one that works things out, leads research parties, comes up with plans. He’s the Mastermind, at least at first. Like Nate, he graduates out of that position (although I think the others sort of share it after he steps down, rather than one person picking it up).

But Buffy’s not the hitter.

Buffy is the grifter.

Think about it. Pretty, blonde, posterchild for popularity. She’s charismatic. She’s endearing.  You like her. You’d probably do anything she asked you to. She’s an an excellent liar, a brilliant actor. She plays the part. The only reason she doesn’t have Sunnydale wrapped around her fucking finger is because all the bullshit with demons and vampires is Too Obvious for no one to ever notice how weird she is. If they could be even slightly more subtle, or pick slightly more convenient times to get up to their nonsense, no one would ever suspect she was anything but what she looks like.

No, the hitter? That’s Faith. And yes, I’m counting her as a Scooby. My girl got done dirty, alright. Granted, she did some people pretty dirty as well. But she was a teenage girl with a really shitty childhood, and I’m not one to use the shitty childhood as a get out of jail free card (get it), but dude. Dude. Every single thing that could’ve gone wrong for her, did. And every time the team had a chance to prove she could trust them, they fucked it up. Mostly Wesley fucked it up, but let’s not go there. And did I mention she was a teenage girl? Also, it helps that she was only Properly Evil for like, a few months, after which she was in a coma, and was Properly Evil for all of five minutes before deciding “Actually I just wanna be Buffy,” because guess what, she never WANTED to be the bad guy-

I’m getting off topic. The point is. Faith is the brawn, alright? Post-Faith, I guess that position goes to Spike, who let’s face it, is basically Buffy’s backup/guard dog from the moment he realizes he can still kill demons, and especially after his big “Oh shit I love the slayer” realization. For the record, bad decisions being made by an ostensibly helplessly evil soulless monster aside, no one EVER had Buffy’s back like Spike did. Not a single damn person. Fucking fight me. Every. Single. Other. Person. Let her down. Constantly. Or they were never in a positoin to properly have her back in the first place. The one time he really did screw it up, he realized how fucked up he was, and went off and got a fucking soul for her, so basically

Riley, for the record, is not a Hitter and does NOT count as a Scooby, because screw that guy. Also while I’m on the subject, screw Xander, because the episode where Riley leaves and Xander gives Buffy the “you’re the bad guy” speech sits so fucking wrong with me, and Xander goddamn Harris can get fucking bent. I’m still off topic, I know, I know. Sorry, I just. I have VERY STRONG OPINIONS ABOUT BUFFY.

ANYWAY. Willow is the hacker, big fucking shock. She’s... she’s literally a hacker, okay. Even when she stops being all computer-y and starts being all witch-y, her approach to witchcraft is... is to hack it. She hacks magic. Literally. That’s what gets her in so much trouble with it, because she’s too fucking good at cheating the system. It’s how she brought Buffy back. She’s the goddamned Hacker. Age. Of. The. Fucking. Geek. Baby.

Thief............ hmph. I don’t know?!?!?!??!?!?!?!?

See, the thing is, basically all of the properly involved Scoobies had to steal something at one point or another, all with basically the same level of success, so... wait.

Okay. No. The thief is Dawn.

She’s literally a thief! She steals from everybody all the goddamned time! With varying degrees of success, sure. But if she was actually trained at it, she’d be better than all of them. She’s the only Little Sibling out of the bunch (Well, okay, Tara had an older brother, but her homelife was so fucked she has Very Different Younger Sister energy than Dawn). She has a specific talent for it that I bet would serve her well if she was actually trained. I honestly at this point have read so much fanfic that I cannot for the life or me remember if canon!Spike ever helped teach her to knick stuff or if that’s just widely accepted fanon!Spike because people love that dynamic (as they should, it’s great). I’m doing a rewatch but... uh... I kinda stopped partway through S5 because I’m like four episodes away from The Body and gods I just can’t take it. Point being, I dunno if that’s legit or not. BUT. If it were legit, and she was taught how to steal, she’d be great at it.

I guess Spike is kind of also the thief. But he’s also the only one of the scoobies that’s properly been a villain (I’m not counting Faith or Willow’s brief insanity, and Angel isn’t the villain, Angelus is, so...), so naturally he’s got the shady skills. He can kind of grift and mastermind, too, except he’s too impatient for it, which is why he ends up stuck as a hitter most of the time. Everything else is too slow for his ass. See, the entirety of S2.

For fun, under the cut, the remaining scoobies and what position they’re best suited for:

Xander: Hitter??? He’s not got the super strength and he’s kind of played for laughs, but there was that whole bit where he had the tactical training from his brief stint as GI Joe in the Halloween episode. He’s a decent tactician, which is kind of the hitter’s job. I bet that if the wasn’t so busy feeling inferior to Buffy and he actually like. Trained. He could be a decent fighter.

Cordelia: Straight fucking grifter. Which she proves plenty of times on Angel. It’s extra great because she basically IS Sophie, what with the whole “can grift like a boss but put her on stage and she’s terrible” bit. She’s also a decent mastermind, also showcased on Angel. She whips him into shape from day one, and is the only thing that keeps AI running half the time. Also not unlike Sophie. Honestly Cordelia is my favorite character from the OG cast. She deserved better.

Angel: Mastermind. He’s got all of Angelus’ brains, remember, just not necessarily any reason to use them. He’s smart, though, and definitely good at planning. He’s also really into knowing the most and keeping his cards close to his chest. The parallels with Nate are a little strong, honestly, because he also has that whole... guilty conscience spiraling downward holier than thou thing going on. And yes, I do ship him and Cordy, thanks for asking.

Oz: Hacker! Not a lot of people really remember this, since his prominent character traits were “In a band”, “Willow’s boyfriend”, and “werewolf”. Plus there’s the whole flunked-senior-year plot point which I honestly think they did just to keep him around. But the first time Oz actually properly interacted with Willow was because they’d both gotten singled out for their badass computer skills on career day. He’s very nearly as good as her.

Anya: Grifter. I mean, the whole vengeance demon schtick relies on the grift. She’s very good at it. Which, she ought to be, she’s been doing it for over a thousand years. It’s sort of hilarious though because it seems like the second she loses her powers, she also loses her ability to blend in. I think that’s likely because she’s used to short term cons, and running the long con that is being human again is more difficult. Still, this is where she shines.

Riley: He doesn’t count because I kinda hate him. But fine if you wanna go there. Hitter. He doesn’t deserve the title though because Eliot is both brains and brawn and Riley can’t think his way out of a paper sack without someone giving him directions, and even then it’s dicey.

Tara: This one is super hard for me! I can’t see her as any of the actual team positions. I suppose the one skill she displays would be grifting, since she does try to hide her identity as a supposed demon from the others for a while before her birthday comes up. But honestly I see her less as a member of the crew and more as a Maggie. Voice of reason, moral high ground, not putting up with shenanigans if she can help it... yeah. Tara’s the Maggie. Every crew needs one.

[the-desolated-quill]

BBC’s The War Of The Worlds blog - Episode 2

(SPOILER WARNING: The following is an in-depth critical analysis. If you haven’t seen this episode yet, you may want to before reading this review)

Never before have I witnessed something this god awful. I’m actually gobsmacked. I knew Peter Harness was a terrible writer, but I didn’t think even he could fuck up this badly. I was utterly dumbfounded by the end of the second episode. I couldn’t believe what I just watched. Not only does this fail as an adaptation of War Of The Worlds, it fails as a story in and of itself.

The problems with Episode 2 surface almost immediately within the first few minutes. A flash forward to a post apocalyptic Earth where we see Amy taking care of her son as humanity struggles to survive because of the red weed (which doesn’t look terribly convincing sadly, but that’s the least of this series’ problems). From there the episode continuously switches back and forth to the invasion and the aftermath throughout, which completely ruins the pacing, but it’s actually even worse than that. These flash forwards also giveaway the ending of the story. That the Martians end up losing. Harness tries to act all clever-clever with it by having British propaganda claim that the army defeated them, but the damage has already done. Thanks to this reveal, Harness has successfully managed to completely suck all tension from the story completely. The Martians no longer pose a threat because we, the audience, know they eventually lose, and we know that Amy at least survives, so at no point do we ever worry about her safety. I was absolutely flabbergasted when I saw this. I couldn’t believe any writer could be this stupid as to sabotage their own story by completely defanging their villains. As for the red weed slowly killing the planet, not only do I feel this unnecessarily complicates a perfectly simple narrative, it also opens the door for humanity to overcome their Martian oppressors when the whole point of the original story was that we only survived by the skin of our teeth. Our human ingenuity had nothing to do with it. We’ll have to wait and see what Episode 3 brings, but I’m not optimistic.

Meanwhile the invasion itself is still just as stilted and lacking in focus as it was before. Certain scenes stand out, like the black smoke enveloping London and the Tripods attacking the ferries, but because we know the Martians ultimately lose and that Amy survives, there’s absolutely zero suspense. (And yes, I know War Of The Worlds is a hundred year old story and everyone knows how it ends, but that doesn’t mean you can’t build tension). Also because of Harness wilfully reducing the Martians to incompetent fools, he has to resort to cheap shock tactics in the desperate hopes of scaring the audience, like when we see one of the Tripods kill a baby. Or how about the bit where Amy almost gets raped in the post invasion scenes? After all that performative feminist posturing last week, it’s quite galling to see such a sexist trope be used here for a cheap bit of drama. It’s fucking pathetic.

And once again the focus is in all the wrong areas. Instead of depicting the horrifying events of the Martian invasion, Harness is more preoccupied with Amy and Rupert Graves’ character (I’m sure he has a name, but I can’t be bothered to remember it at this point) squabbling every five minutes. Guys! Humanity is being destroyed by fucking aliens! Can this not wait?!

I’m assuming the whole baby killing thing was an attempt to show us the selfish nature of man or something, but George and the Artilleryman barely make the effort to actually look for the baby and the scene doesn’t go on nearly long enough to get us invested in the search and their eventual failure. The baby is practically thrown away just so Harness can have a moment where social media will go ‘OMG, they killed a baby in War Of The Worlds! How edgy!’ And the annoying thing is the book does actually have morally grey and shocking moments that Harness could have adapted if he wasn’t too busy trying to second-guess the audience and show what a dark and edgy writer he is. There are two important characters in the source material that the narrator encounters who offer different points of view on the events of the novel. There’s the priest who we see slowly lose faith in God and become more and more panicked and erratic, and there’s the Artilleryman, who represents British colonial attitudes, believing that humanity will ultimately triumph when the evidence clearly doesn’t support this. Here the Artilleryman is played by Dudley Dursley himself Harry Melling, who does a decent job with the material he has been given, but unfortunately the character he’s being forced to play is just utterly inadequate.

Continuing with his trend of writing allegories to things that have nothing to do with War Of The Worlds, Peter Harness takes the opportunity to comment on military conscription, even though conscription wasn’t introduced to the UK until 1916. So now the Artilleryman isn’t some impressionable nationalist that has willingly bought into imperial dogma, but rather he’s a scared little bunny rabbit forced to fight a war against an enemy beyond his comprehension. Worse still, George gets conscripted into the military for literally no fucking reason. He doesn’t get given a gun or anything and despite the fact that he knows more about the Martians than the soldiers do, none of them fucking listen to him when he tries to explain the heat pulse thing or why it might not be a good idea to shout at a Tripod. Then, when they think they won the battle, the captain points his gun at George and forces him to wade into the marshes and investigate. Again I must stress that George doesn’t have a gun! It’s just utterly contrived!

Oh but don’t worry. Harness finally addresses what the source material is actually about. British imperialism and colonialism. Unfortunately he does it with the subtlety and nuance of a giant steamroller driven by Marilyn Manson. Now admittedly the book isn’t very subtle about it either as the narrator comes right out with the comparisons between the British and the Martians, but the thing is the book gets away with it because it’s told from the perspective of a journalist writing about his own experiences after the fact. H.G. Wells has the licence to draw direct parallels because the narrative form he has chosen allows him to. A TV series however - a visual medium - cannot get away with this. Harness, not having the faintest idea how to address the themes of the source material organically in the visuals or the plot, resorts to sledgehammer tactics to get the point across. In the flash forwards to post apocalyptic Britain, we see Amy’s son reading a book that details how the British defeated the Martians as part of some propaganda initiative. A speech is made about how powerful and unstoppable the British Empire is, whilst intercut with soldiers having their arses handed to them by the Tripods. We see several characters maintain a stereotypical ‘stiff upper lip’ attitude as though the Martian invasion was a minor inconvenience instead of a shocking tragedy. There’s even a moment where the Minister of War is babbling on about how much more powerful the Empire can become if they can use Martian technology before succumbing to the Martian’s black smoke and we see literal bile foam from his mouth. It’s all so painfully on the nose and doesn’t offer any intelligent points or topics for discussion other than ‘empires are bad.’

And that’s not to mention all the other contrivances and annoyances in this episode. Despite Eleanor Tomlinson giving it her all, I still couldn’t give two shits about her character. Rafe Spall’s performance as George is still utterly atrocious, running around with a gormless expression on his face as though he’s just lost his wallet. Rupert Graves is utterly wasted as George’s brother and has no good material to work with. We also have a little girl join the group in a desperate bid to draw some sort of emotional reaction from the audience (it doesn’t work) and we have a sick older woman who serves no purpose whatsoever as far as I can see. In fact she really pissed me off due to the way in which she gets poisoned. It’s clearly meant to be there to establish the Martians terraforming Earth, but good God it’s stupid. How does she get poisoned? By drinking a random cup of water someone had just happened to leave lying around in the middle of a field.

I... I... Harness.... Harness, does your brain work?! How the flying fuck did you ever manage to get a career as a writer?!?!

BBC, I beg of you, please stop using our TV licence fees to fund hack screenwriters’ poorly thought out and unentertaining fanfiction!

PLEASE!

[evanstanhoney]

Love You More.

a/n: it’s been a while, and as you know i’ve not been feeling the best lately so here’s something to kind of shake it all off. i had no idea where this was going, i really just wrote this as an exercise and it probably won't end up on my master. okay enough of me talking! here’s romantic fluffy shawn. (this is also unedited soz)

⚠️warnings: none, just fluff

word count: 1.2k

Shawn was always full of surprises, always doing little romantic gestures or even big ones (which you always gave a little speech about). Something as getting your favorite ice cream while he’s on a grocery run because he noticed you’re almost out, made you fall in love with him a little more. He spoiled you rotten and you don’t know what you’d done to deserve him, but you were happy to have him.

There were days where it was hard, being so far away from him for long periods, and no one hated that more than Shawn. If you’d had a bad day or one of your regular fights with your mom over the phone, he couldn’t do anything to help you and it killed him no matter how many times you’d assured him it was fine. It was his job, and it’s what you both signed up for. But that didn’t make him feel any less guilty. So when he was back, he made up for it tenfold by way of clingy to you every second of the day until he’d have to leave again. You’d make fun of him being so cuddly but Cuddly Shawn was your favorite Shawn.

The first two nights of him home usually consisted of him sprawled out on top of you on the couch, his burying his face in his chest while you ran your fingers through his hair. There was always a Harry Potter film on, but within the first fifteen minutes of the movie you’d hear his soft snores, and when you’d tried to get him to get up and go to bed he’d draw himself closer mumbling a ‘No! I’m watching this.’ into your chest. It was a tradition of sorts, and one you always looked forward too, so when he stepped into the apartment fresh off the plane and ordered you into the bedroom after your ‘welcome home’ kiss and hug you were more than confused. ‘I’ll come to get you in five minutes’  he said.

Well, five minutes had come and gone and you were still pacing your room picking at what was left of your manicure. You could hear furniture moving, and a few swears which made you giggle, knowing it was him tripping over the new rug you got. It’d had been a hot topic from the day it was delivered, he hated the thing.

It was when you heard what sounded like pots and pans from the kitchen that you drew the line.

You threw the door open to your room and made your way around the corner. You loved him,

“Shawn! What are you -”  

“Honey no! Give me two more minutes.” He meets you halfway, turning you around and marching you back to your room. You turned the corner, folding your arms across your chest trying not to laugh at his antics.

“Okay, you can come out.”

You walk around the corner and it’s the sweetest thing you’ve ever seen. Shawn had made a makeshift restaurant out of your dining table, pulling out an old tablecloth you used when your parents were over and candles you didn’t know you had. In the kitchen, there’s a little assembly line of sorts laid out. A few pieces from the fridge. Some pots and pans, a cutting board and some bowls, it looks like he cleared out the cabinets really. And Shawn stood in the middle of it all, hands tucked into his pocket and the most adorable nervous smile on his lips.

“Shawn, what is this?” You giggle, walking into the kitchen, looking at the hodgepodge of things laid out.  

“I thought we could make dinner together like we use too?”

You don’t think you’ve seen him this nervous since you first started dating, and it was so endearing your heart could burst.

“You mean I cook and you distract me?”  

“Yeah,” he chuckles, following you into the kitchen, pulling you into a sweet peck.

He cradles you face in your hands, rubbing little circles on your cheeks, and you can see the little bit of sadness behind his eyes.

“I know things have been kinda nuts lately, and I just wanted to show you that I’m still here. And that I love you.”

“I know. I love you too, but you don’t have to do things like this every time. I understand - “

“I want to. You deserve it.” He whispers, leaning into a kiss that goes a little deeper. He pulls away and looks down at you with that stare that, as cliche as it may seem, makes your knees weak every time. The one that says ‘I love you more than anything, and I want to give you the world.’

“Well,” you chirp, placing one more quick peck to his lips before pulling away from his embrace, “what are we making? I haven’t done the shopping for the week, I was going to wait till you got back.”

“I found a few things. Figured you could work your magic?” He smirks down at you batting his eyelashes and you just roll your eyes.

You really did have a knack for cooking, anything that was in the fridge or the cabinet you could somehow turn into a meal for the two of you. A pretty decent one too. Before you moved in, he literally had no food. He traveled a ton, sure but you wondered how he ever ate. If it wasn’t for you, you sure he wouldn’t.

“I’ll see what I can do.” You smirked, playfully cracking your knuckles.

You quickly went to work, deciding on making an easy pasta with a butter lemon garlic sauce and added some chicken you’d made for yourself the night before.

As you were cutting up the chicken into strips to add in, Shawn hopped off the counter next to you coming up behind you, stealing a piece of chicken before wrapping his arms around your waist.

“I missed you so much.” He mumbles into your hair, as he placed kisses to your temple and cheek. “Can't think of anything better to come home to than this.”

“What, me being your personal Chef?” You smile, nudging him with your elbow.

“No, just you. If I could have this for the rest of my life I’d be the happiest guy in the world.”

It’s not the first time he’s eluded to marriage or engagement. In the two years you’d been together it’s come up quite a bit actually, but it’s the first time he’s said it like this. There was something in his voice, you couldn’t quite put your finger on it, but your stomach started doing somersaults.

You pushed the cutting board away turning around in his arms to look up at him, and he’s smiling down at you with that look in his eyes.

“Yeah?” You ask, voice a little shaky.

“Yeah. I mean now’s not the best time, obviously. And I’m not saying we should elope tomorrow. But eventually...yeah. I want this, always. I want to have a life with you.”

There’s so much love in his voice, you nearly want to cry. You could see it perfectly. The two of you, happy in a nice house (his condo is fantastic, but it’s no place to raise a family), with weekly dinner dates. It was perfect.

You reach up, wrapping your arms around his neck, pulling him in to kiss.

“I love you so much.”

“Love you more.”

masterlist // tell me what you think? // requests? // wattpad // AO3

[junker-town]

4 winners and 6 losers from a boringly quiet NFL trade deadline

Aqib Talib and Kenyan Drake were moved ahead of the NFL trade deadline, but Jamal Adams was the biggest name dangled on the block.

The Jets kept Jamal Adams, which is good! And bad!

Teams across the NFL built hype leading up to the Oct. 29 trade deadline. Stars like Jalen Ramsey, Michael Bennett, and Emmanuel Sanders all found new homes before Week 8 came to a close, building anticipation for what promised to be an array of last-minute wheeling and dealing to set up the final half of the 2019 season. Names like Le’Veon Bell, Jamal Adams, and Trent Williams all cropped up on wish lists and on trade rumors throughout the day.

Then the 4 p.m. ET deadline came and went. Nothing happened.

Adams and Bell remained in football purgatory with the Jets. The Patriots did nothing to address their lack of tight end depth. The Bears looked at their roster, shrugged, and said “whatever.”

Even if Tuesday was devoid of action — with the exception of an Aqib Talib salary dump move between the Rams and Dolphins — that doesn’t mean it won’t affect the outcome of the regular season. Plenty of teams still won and lost based on their action, or lack thereof, throughout the week. So who fits where?

Winner: New England Patriots

The Pats didn’t get any help to bolster their offensive line. That suggests they are confident second-year left tackle Isaiah Wynn will be able to return from injured reserve before the year is through to spell occasional turnstile Marshall Newhouse protecting Tom Brady’s blindside. The team decided to stand pat when it came to Brady’s targets as well, which means New England is expecting dividends from newly acquired Mohamed Sanu and rookie N’Keal Harry, who is eligible to return from his own IR stint in Week 9.

More importantly, the rest of the AFC didn’t do much to attempt to reel in the Pats, who currently have a 2.5-game cushion in the race for homefield advantage. While the Texans added Gareon Conley and the Ravens traded for Marcus Peters earlier in October, everyone else in the conference either stayed put or sold off talent. New England didn’t need much help at the deadline, but watching its rivals keep quiet may have been just as big as another Bill Belichick deal in 2019.

Plus, the Patriots signed the greatest kicker in AAF history. No trade needed.

The #Patriots are signing free agent K Nick Folk, source said. Most recently, he held the AAF record for longest field goal at 55 yards. He’s also played for the #Bucs, #Jets and #Cowboys.

— Ian Rapoport (@RapSheet) October 29, 2019

Loser: New York Jets

The Jets dangled their best defender, and most outspoken and emotional athlete, on deadline day, only to reel Jamal Adams back in when other teams refused to offer them a Ramsey-ian return for the Pro Bowl safety. Though New York ultimately made the right decision to keep him, news of the attempted trade may cause a rift between a young building block and a franchise that desperately needs all the budding talent it can find.

At the end of the week last week, I sat down with the GM and Coach Gase and told them I want to be here in New York. I was told yesterday by my agent that the GM then went behind my back and shopped me around to teams, even after I asked him to keep me here! Crazy business.

— Jamal Adams (@TheAdamsEra) October 29, 2019

Adams was reportedly open to a move back to his home state of Texas, but denied wanting any part of a trade less than two hours after the deadline came to an end. That makes it tough to spin a positive from the two sides nearly parting ways in the midst of another season beginning to visibly frustrate the young defensive back. Though general manager Joe Douglas says he wasn’t actively shopping anyone, the Jets were a common topic at the trade deadline — and that only stands to sow more discord in one of the league’s most broken teams.

Loser: Baltimore Ravens (and Jamal Adams)

Although the Jets certainly screwed up by making some of their top players available before not moving any of them, the teams that failed to land these players also came out on the losing side. Adams is the big name; both the Cowboys and Ravens were in on him, per multiple reports.

While it’s difficult to see where Dallas would have fit Adams on its ballooning payroll, the Ravens have the space and more importantly, the need for a player like Adams. Baltimore is at a pivotal point in its season. The club sits at 5-2 atop the AFC North, but its 26th-ranked passing defense leaves a gaping hope that could be filled by an enforcer like Adams. Additionally, Adams is a phenomenal player who would probably have found a lot more success with the Ravens (or Cowboys, for that matter) than he would with the Jets, who can’t decide where they stand in the rebuilding process.

Winner: Buffalo Bills

The Bills are building smartly and slowly, handling quarterback Josh Allen with kid gloves as they put together a roster around him. Though some receiving help would have been a boon, acquiring a soon-to-be free agent like A.J. Green in exchange for a high draft pick ultimately may have been a step backward. Buffalo didn’t correlate its 5-2 start against a soft schedule with a reason to overpay for a temporary addition. That’s something the team will value come next offseason.

Loser: Cincinnati Bengals

Cincinnati is 0-8 and will now turn to fourth-round rookie Ryan Finley at quarterback after benching Andy Dalton (on his damn birthday, no less!). This is not a team with designs for 2019, and all logic suggests it should be stockpiling assets for 2020.

Instead, the Bengals made zero trades after last April’s draft and held steady with a roster that’s been outscored by an average of more than 10 points per game this fall. While the fans in southwestern Ohio can take solace in the hope they’ll get eight more games of A.J. Green before he can leave in free agency, they have to be concerned the Bengals were either unwilling to sell off parts or, even worse, unattractive to teams looking for even modest veteran help.

Winner: Los Angeles Rams

LA needed to find a way to create a little salary cap space after pushing all their chips to the center of the table by acquiring Ramsey. The Dolphins — the poor, hopeless Dolphins — were happy to oblige. Miami took injured cornerback Aqib Talib and the roughly $4 million in salary he’s still due in 2019 off the Rams’ hands for the reasonable cost of a 2020 fifth-round draft pick. Los Angeles can now use that room to convert some of next year’s cap clog into this year’s bonuses and add a little more spending room to its coffers.

Winner: Miami Dolphins

The goal in 2019 is to tank and the Dolphins added more fuel to that effort ahead of the trade deadline.

Step one was to trade Kenyan Drake to the Cardinals for a conditional sixth-round pick that could become a fifth-rounder. That’s not much, but it’s a decent return for a player in the final year of his rookie deal who was nine games away from never playing for the Dolphins again.

Step two was a shrewd deal that puts Aqib Talib on the roster for no reason other than acquiring another draft pick. The Dolphins will eat the veteran cornerback’s salary and send a seventh-round pick in 2022 to the Rams, but get a 2020 fifth-round pick in return. Talib’s headed for free agency in March and Miami has more than enough cap space to pay his salary for the rest of 2019.

Step three wasn’t really a trade deadline move, but the Dolphins did put Xavien Howard on injured reserve Tuesday. He was Miami’s only Pro Bowler in 2018 and the already awful defense will be much worse without him.

The tank is still very much on.

Loser: Washington

Washington apparently shifted gears and tried to sell left tackle Trent Williams — who hasn’t played a game for the team in 2019 as part of a contract standoff — at a premium price after rejecting trade overtures for him throughout the season. No one bit:

The one quote that stands out talking with league sources on possible Trent Williams move - Redskins wouldn’t take calls on a trade for months, “nobody wants to bail them out now.”

— JP Finlay (@JPFinlayNBCS) October 29, 2019

Williams reported to the team’s facilities immediately after the trade deadline, but may not plan on actually playing over the last half of the season. He’ll be eligible for free agency in 2020, so it’s possible general manager Bruce Allen may completely blank the final season of one of his franchise’s best players while getting nothing but a 2021 compensatory pick in return.

Loser: O.J. Howard

Howard was primed for a breakout after setting career highs with 34 catches and 565 receiving yards in just 10 games in 2018. However, his third season as a pro has seen him fall out of favor with new Buccaneers head coach Bruce Arians. The explosive tight end — he averaged 16.6 yards per catch leading up to ‘19 — has only 13 receptions in six games without a single trip to the end zone. While a hamstring injury has affected his impact, it’s clear that tight ends are not a major component of Arians’ offensive philosophy; Howard and Cameron Brate have combined for only 38 of Jameis Winston’s 255 targets (14.9 percent) so far this year.

A change of scenery would have allowed the former first-round pick to regain his value as a high-impact target. It also would have given his new team the opportunity to pick up a pricy fifth-year option that looms in 2021 — a commitment in which the Bucs likely have little interest. Instead he’ll remain in Tampa, picking up the scraps of whatever Arians’ WR-heavy offense leaves behind.

Loser: New York Giants

The Giants acquired defensive tackle Leonard Williams from the Jets on Monday. Even though Pat Shurmur’s team desperately needs defensive help, the pickup doesn’t make a whole lot of sense contractually. Williams is set to be a free agent at the end of this season, and he cost the NFC’s New York team a 2020 third-round pick and a conditional fifth-round pick in 2021.

If Williams decides to not re-sign with the Giants at the end of the season, they will have given up those draft picks for a brief rental of a player who has failed to live up to his potential in the NFL. Williams, the former No. 6 overall pick in 2015, has recorded just eight total tackles and zero sacks this season. The Giants, currently 2-6, may have just given up draft picks for a decent player on a down year, and he might not be with the team after the season. Yikes!

[wordsmittenmedia]

A BEGINNER’S GUIDE TO BOOK EXPO AMERICA AND BOOK CON

By Amy Edwards Assisant Editor WordSmitten Media, Inc.

New York City, New York – For three weeks, my life was nothing but an adventure.

This is my first summer free from college and I’ve   traveled up and down the east coast, both for business and pleasure. Of all my summer experiences, this one rates highest and I’d like to dive into my first big city adventure: Book Expo America and BookCon 2017 in Manhattan.

Since I am new into the professional writing world, I was completely unaware of the BEA and BookCon. An annual spring event that usually happens at the  Javits Convention Center in New York City, it is a rite of passage for authors (the expo might be considered the Super Bowl for many in publishing).  

Despite occasionally moving to other big cities such as Chicago, Illinois, BEA tends to keep to its home in the Big Apple. No matter where the conferences  is held, the Book Expo America and BookCon are major hot spots for publishers, acquisition editors, book executives, librarians (yes, they buy and review books), authors,  literary agents, and book sellers promoting thousands of books that are tackling topics about the current trends.

Many attend BEA and Book Con to network with other professionals from all over the country as well as from a few other places around the world. And, like everything else in New York City, this event is massive. The number of attendees at the Book Expo every year can be anywhere from 17,000 to 29,000, so chances of finding a plastic seat in the food court to lounge in during down-times were slim to none.  

I’m a simple person with simple dreams and in my 21 years, the biggest building I encountered is the SunTrust Financial Centre in Tampa before New York.   If you believe I was quite terrified of the constant rushing atmosphere of not only the Book Expo, but of the city in general, you are correct. I would have loved to have a guide, you know, campers, here’s where your tent is, here’s where the kayaks are, and don’t forget to wear bug spray.

For all of my other writers and readers who have just gotten their feet wet in the literary world, here is a quick guide. You’ll discover how to navigate the Big Apple’s BEA, and how to turn this mountain of a marvel into an adventure that may not be an anthill but an enjoyable and memorable journey nonetheless.

Before we get to the actual Expo and Con, there’s definitely some preliminary planning involved. Here are important tips:  

1.       Buy your tickets early.

Although this is good for every event, this is especially important for the Book Expo and Book Con due to everything selling out so quickly. Without registering, you can’t exactly do anything at either event, so your ticket is—quite literally--your key to getting in through any of the doors at Javits.

And yes, I do mean tickets (plural), especially if you’re planning to go to both the Expo and the BookCon.

These events are run by the same team, but Book Expo and BookCon are presented for staggeringly different target audiences (and one ticket doesn’t assure access to both), so there are two separate passes to get.

For those of you who have press credentials—those who are my dear media friends out there—don’t procrastinate—apply early to get a press badge for Book Expo. With a press badge, you gain access and are able to get into the BookCon without a problem.  

If you plan on going to any major   events (such as any of the author’s breakfasts during the Expo), those require special separate tickets. You might be thinking, “Hold on, Ms. Amy: this is starting to hurt my wallet a little bit!” I won’t tell you that it’s not that expensive, but it certainly is worth it for all of the free books that are waiting to join the ones in your bookcases at home. Not only are these books free, but they are often times Advanced Reader Copies (ARCs), so you get to read them before the general public!  Ten ARCs, at retail, range from $24.95 to $34.95. If you capture ten to 15 books, and if your math skills are current, you’ll realize you’ve covered the cost of entry to the event. Not to mention getting a selfie with “Barney” a.k.a. Neil Patrick Harris (older folks know him as Doogie Howser).

And just to sweeten the pot, the special events that cost extra feature celebrities. I had to still my beating heart when I read on the Expo’s website that Stephen King and Hillary Clinton were two of the many big name guests coming to the Expo.

I also had to dry many tears when I woke up on the second day of the Expo realizing that I had completely forgotten about buying the tickets in the first place! Regardless of my scatterbrained nature, I’m sure that I would have had to scramble to buy them anyway (since tickets like these do sell quickly), but as a wise woman once told me, “Do what I say, not as I do.” Do purchase your tickets early. Did I mention that?

Which brings me to my next point:

2.       Know where you’re going.

I know it sounds simple, but for those who are not experienced with the boroughs of New York City (or another city like Chicago in the event that it moves again), I highly advise that you figure out how you’re getting there. Fortunately, I had some friends that were going to the event with me, so I followed them until I memorized where to go, but even then I still took some wrong turns every now and then. Even with the numbered streets and avenues, New York City is a labyrinth, so it’s quite easy to get lost in it.

If the BEA returns to New York’s Javits Center again next year--instead of Chicago’s McCormick Place--I have some wonderful news about the West Side of Manhattan. Line 7 opened up in 2015. It runs from midtown to the convention center, and it’s incredibly convenient. The subway line is new, as is the station, so it was pleasant—and swift—to ride from Times Square to the BEA’s front door.

The know-where-you-go tip could also apply to the Expo itself. The Expo (as well as the BookCon) is football-field large (three or more--almost an endless room) filled with publishers and exhibitors, so getting a map from the event staff is a must. Above some of the publishers’ booths, you’ll see signs for HarperCollins, Simon & Schuster, and PRH. For some of the exhibitors (small and unique presses like McSweeney’s), it’s still useful to learn of all the different publishers and authors that are participating. You might find some people that you recognize that you didn’t know were there!  Like McSweeney’s.

3.       Make a plan, but it’s okay to not stick to it.

Whenever I attend any kind of expo or convention, I like to make sure that I have a rough draft of an itinerary since there’s so many different events happening all at once. On the Book Expo site, there’s a complete schedule that’s up and available, so I combed through it again and again trying to figure out what panels and events were hot and which ones were not. For example, I had to wait an hour in advance to go see Neil Patrick Harris and Lemony Snicket (which was worth it, because I was one and a half round tables away from the men of the hour!), but later that afternoon, one of the publishing software panels nearly rocked me asleep. Next year, when the adrenaline from anticipation keeps me up at night before BEA, I’ll have to find a recording of executives spouting inventory jargon.

[Caption: From left to right, Neil Patrick Harris, Chris Harris, and Lemony Snicket]

Fortunately, with BEA’s thick teal program open in my hands, I quickly realized that this Book Expo was vastly different from the comic conventions that I’m so familiar with. Thanks to the color coded schedule of events, I figured out that some of the events were targeted to certain professions or specific aspects about the business of writing. I didn’t come to this conclusion smoothly either. Much to my innocent confusion, I didn’t quite grasp that the Edelweiss panels were for booksellers and publishers until I went to the second one.

I’m sure for the publishers and booksellers out there, Edelweiss is an organizational gift, but as a new player to the writing game, I was pretty lost half the time and couldn’t keep up with the bookselling terminology. I really regret not recording this lullaby track.

For the first few hours (or days), I was stuck in a predicament of not knowing what to do for decent stretches of the Expo. During these downtimes, I found myself roaming around the Expo floor or networking with other people. I realized that I enjoyed this wayward part of the Expo much more once I put myself out into the excitement.

For those of you who are sitting in your office chairs thinking the Book Expo is full of attendees wearing nice business suits sitting in cavernous professional meetings, I’m going to remind you that this is the Olympics for creative minds. There are plenty of different characters on and off the page at this event, but all of them are gathered there to celebrate books. There are no medals or anything like that, so there’s no point in not stepping out into the buzz, and I know that I would have regretted sticking to my usual wallflower routine.

Even when I was sitting off to the side trying to figure out my schedule for the day, I was able to strike up a conversation with an editor who I quickly learned loved the anime Yuri on Ice!!! as much as I did, and still do.

You’re going to meet wonderful people there, and not a single person I met over the four days I spent at both the Expo and the Con is boring. I even met a wonderful Belle cosplayer who had constructed Belle’s classic golden ball gown herself. If you’re going to try and make friends, I’m going to repeat this until my last days: never be afraid to say “Hello,” first.

If trying to make new friends isn’t quite your goal, the Expo floor is filled to the brim with all kinds of different authors and publishers just itching to pass out copies of upcoming books. A couple of the most memorable encounters for me included meeting Emily Rose Ross, the 13 year old author of The Canis Chronicles, as well as J.H. Sanderson, the author of the seven-part novel series Roadhouse Sons. Both were so kind as to give me copies of their first parts of each series, Blue’s Prophecy and Dangerous Gambles respectively.

From personal experience, I’m going to emphasize the importance of keeping your schedule open because of these friends that you may potentially make, or books you will potentially stuff into your tote. When I’m nervous, I tend to stick to my schedule like cooked cheese to a pizza pan, so I ended up missing out to grab a few beers at a party in Time Square. The best thing about New York is that you never have to drive, so as soon as I got the invite text on the late afternoon subway ride back to 191st, I immediately regretted sticking to the plan of retiring for the night. I could have been chatting up some literary agents and sipping on a cosmopolitan in the atmosphere of a New York bar on a Friday night, but I was stuck on the Red Line 1 with a woman who couldn’t understand that there is one track going Uptown. I held back the urge to grab onto her frizzy bun and state plainly that no, we can’t just back up and go around the police investigation going on three stops ahead so please stop shrieking every five minutes that this is inconveniencing you and making you late to meet with your boyfriend’s parents .I felt so sorry for her young boyfriend curled up in the seat next to her, face hidden in his blue cardigan. His ears were still red thirty minutes later when they were finally able to get off at the stop before mine.

For those of you who aren’t so socially inclined, this is also a great opportunity to observe and write. People watching is an excellent way to brainstorm ideas for your newest story, so I highly encourage time to sit and observe all the different people. Although I don’t recommend getting the pizza from the Javits, there’s two different Starbucks stores that you can hover around and people-watch. Why are they at the Expo? How do they feel about it? The possibilities for the amount of people that go to this event are endless, as are the backstories that you can make for them.

4.       Learn how to say, “No.”

During the many escapades of the Expo floor, I have learned that people really want you to read their work. That should be obvious- if I worked on a book for so long, I would hope that people would take a look! However, the authors and publishing houses are there for the sake of spreading the word about their newest works. It’s honestly thrilling to receive free books from new authors as well as seasoned veterans, but it’s all fun and games until you have to leave the Expo. I’m pretty sure the strings on my canvas tote rubbed my shoulder raw from the weight of all the books I received, and whatever I had on my person was only a fraction of the 28 pounds of books I accumulated over the 3 day expo.

During  Editor’s Buzzes, the staff hands out around 5 or 6 different up and coming books. There are books for sale in preparation for the Book Con in order to get them signed by YA authors. Authors and Publishers toss books for free left and right on the Expo floor. I even had the mother of an author hunt me down like a wolf because she saw that my badge said “Media.” If I had realized sooner that exhibitors translate “Media” to “I do free book reviews!” I probably wouldn’t have 28 pounds of books waiting for me to carry up to my third floor apartment—and no, we don’t have an elevator.

Someone even wrote on my box in black, bold Sharpie, “HEAVY.”

A major part of the reason I ended up with so many was that I also didn’t know how to say “No” to these people. Certainly, my own interest in some of the titles didn’t help, but that’s beside the point.. I’ll confess: if I know that it’s incredibly unlikely that I’ll meet the person again and they recommend that I do something, I’ll gladly agree but completely forget about that recommendation within the following five minutes.  It’s not that I don’t want to read all of these books that I’ve been given, it’s just that I don’t know if I actually will.  I’ve decided that next year, before I slip my book into my C-SPAN tote, I’m going to ask myself:

Will I read this book?

No— will I really read this book?

If I can’t genuinely say yes, I’ll refuse to take it. There are thousands of people that go to the Book Expo, so I’m sure that the books will find homes where they will be happily read over and over again.

Also, Freeman provides a shipping service on the bottom concourse, since they know we attendees are book lovers that can’t say no to all these free, wonderful books. Although the books are free, getting them home isn’t. For me, the cost of shipping my 28 pound library back home was more than $60, and my box was light in comparison to some others. Standing in line in front of me was a librarian with thick, black-rimmed glasses who told me, “Well, if you’re able to lift your box, you’re a lot better off than a lot of people.”

When I looked behind me, a short woman with wispy, white hair pulled three boxes behind her on a cart. My wallet could only cringe at the thought of having to pay the flat $40 fee three times, and then some for the weight.

Lesson learned: say “No,” and your back and your bank account will surely thank you.

5.       If you’re going for the Expo floor, skip the first day.

Day one of the Expo is much more quiet than usual, which had surprised me. When I walked in, I thought that I had gotten there too early since the area outside of the Expo floor was on the empty side. I had expected thick crowds of people, but I only saw a few people wandering around. I thought, “Why is it that this place looks like a toy store on a school day? Much to my dismay, I quickly discovered that this is because the Expo floor isn’t open on the first day.

I was quite eager to get to the Expo floor; walking in the front glass doors and seeing the huge posters hanging from the ceiling for books and authors I loved (Rick Riordan, Cassandra Claire, to name a couple) made my heart race from excitement. However, when I approached the main entrance to the Expo floor, it was roped off and full of plywood. My afternoon was suddenly way more open than I needed it to be, and the only panel I really needed to go to was the Adult Fiction Editor’s Buzz.

Now I’ve come to the conclusion that the first day of the Expo is really only worth going if you’re going to the panels for that day, which even then there are very few. As me and twenty other attendees were shooed away, I could hear the many complaints in hushed, annoyed whispers. “I can’t believe I took a day off of work for this,” one disgruntled woman grumbled behind me.

Thus, I made a mental note to myself to dodge the Expo floor all together, go to an Author’s Buzz (if there is one that day), and head home.

6.       Go to both events.

This is especially important for those going for the first time because the Expo and the Con are entirely separate entities. They’re aimed for different audiences, so the atmosphere around the Javits changes literally overnight.

The Book Expo is an event aimed at book sellers. Publishers and authors are trying to advertise their books to the book sellers or to the media in order to gain popularity and get a place in the market, so the crowd is much older and much more professional. While I was at the Expo, I believe the youngest person (after me) was at least five or six years older with much more professional experience. It’s quite fun and energetic, but the air is a lot more mature and business-oriented.

I would describe the BookCon as the Book Expo’s either younger sibling or inner-child. The BookCon is an event open to the public, so the crowd is much more casual than at the Expo (with my nice purple blouse and black slacks, I felt a little overdressed). Most of the authors at the BookCon are Young Adult authors (such as Joseph Fink, Rainbow Rowell, etc.) so I noticed a lot of teenagers were there, eager to meet their favorite authors. This was where I met the Belle cosplayer, Cait Jacobs, and I even saw a few other people dressed as Wonder Woman to celebrate the new movie coming out. Also, the books that are discussed at BookCon are ones that have already been published and released to the public, so sadly, the free books are also few and far between.

Therefore, I believe it’s almost necessary for people to go to each event at least once if they can. You may learn more about what you’re interested in or may learn what you’re particularly not interested in. If anything, I believe more exposure to the different genres can make readers and writers alike much better-rounded. At the very least, you can earn the experience and have an even better argument as to why you don’t like either event because you now have that first-hand experience under your belt.

7.       Go back.

Of all of the things I’ve learned from traveling up to New York City, getting lost in the subway, shouting out my order at Pizza Suprema, and getting heckled by authors begging me to read their books about dogs and the history of the universe, I’ve learned that I love it. I absolutely love the energy in the air: the people in New York are just like people everywhere else. With the Book Expo, there’s book talk from one end of the Javits to the otherand everyone else seems to be enjoying what they’re doing too.

It reminds me of when I went to a comic convention for the first time, except instead of elaborate, home-made costumes, everyone wore nice clothes and had at least one canvas bag with “I’m a readaholic” printed on the front. Everyone was so passionate about what they were doing and even more so about learning what was happening in the literary world.

Even outside of the BEA, I found myself having a wonderful time. I was able to meet with Diana Finch of Diana Finch literary in order to discuss all the aspects of life as a literary agent (a goal that I may strive for in the future). I was also able to have a night out with Holly Brady, discussing the self-publishing industry over grilled chicken ceasar salad at the Hard Rock Café. We even got to go see Bandstand on Broadway, with seats that were not only cheap, but were in the center on the first floor of the theatre.

The Book Expo and BookCon have become two of my favorite summer events; I feel like my eyes have been opened to the huge world of writing, and I’m quite floored by everyone who made it all possible.

Thus my last piece of advice is to go back. This event is amazing and huge, and I know I couldn’t drink it all in by only going once. There’s so much to it that I want to go back so I know every piece of this event inside and out.

I missed a lot due to my own nervousness; I feel like I spent most of the week testing the water and by the time I jumped into the pool it was already time to leave. I want to go back so I don’t regret missing anything, and I hope that I can return again next year.