COMPLIANCE
INT. APARTMENT – NIGHT
A flickering red neon from a nearby building and the metal halide glow of street lights are the only thing illuminating Beckett "Beck" Chambers' living room.
BECK CHAMBERS, 32, sits on a black leather couch in the dark, hovering over a glass table with his head in his hands. He is gaunt, with hollow eyes and quaffed hair.
On the table: a straw cut short, a razor blade, a pile of white powder.
BECK (V.O.)
This fucking world just sucks the joy right out of you.
Beck picks up the straw, cuts a line, snorts it.
BECK (V.O.) CONT'D
A little cocaine, a little tequila, a night out with some Tinder chick... It almost felt fun. Then you end up back in your shit apartment, yakked out of your mind with your dick in your hand, thinking about what lie you're gonna tell your girlfriend about why you can't hang out tomorrow.
Beck cuts another line. Snorts it.
BECK (V.O.) CONT'D
Fuck. She loves me. I can do better.
Beck leans back, stares out the window as a gentle rain starts streaming down the pane.
His cell phone buzzes.
ON THE SCREEN – TEXT MESSAGE FROM TRACY: "Are you okay?"
Beck replies: "I will be."
Beck stands up and throws on a jacket. Light from the hallway floods the apartment as he opens the door and leaves.
INT. APARTMENT HALLWAY – NIGHT
Beck locks the door and turns to walk down the hall. His neighbor's door is cracked open. The sounds of automatic guns in an action movie spill out. Beck continues down the hall and turns to head down the stairwell, when suddenly, he's face-to-face with a girl in her early twenties – clearly high as a kite. They are both startled.
GIRL
(looking at the ground)
Sorry.
BECK
No problem...
The girl slides past him. He turns and watches as she continues down the hall and into the apartment with the cracked door.
He continues down the staircase and onto the street.
EXT. CHURCH – NIGHT
Beck walks up the sidewalk, pulling his jacket tighter against the rain. He approaches a weathered mobile home attached to the side of a church. A few people stand outside smoking, murmuring quietly.
In the window: a sign with a circle and triangle inside it, the if-you-know-you-know symbol for Alcoholics Anonymous.
He opens the door and walks inside.
INT. A.A. MEETING ROOM – NIGHT
Beck sits in the back as the rest of the alcoholics trickle in and pour themselves coffee. Ex-tweakers, disabled veterans, domestic violence victims. A woodcut sign hanging on the wall reads: "God doesn't make junk."