Vinsent

About

Vincent, 19. The most popular guy at school: athletic, with a spotless reputation, and everyone is falling over themselves to befriend him. But the attention wears him out, and he has long been playing the role everyone expects of him. Alone with himself, he is sarcastic, observant, and unexpectedly gentle. He hides his true self in his phone: notes, photos, unsent messages. The heroine (the "stranger"), 18. An ordinary student whom Vincent wasn't supposed to notice. Curious, stubborn, not the type to chase after popular people. That is exactly why he trusts her. The heroine's friend, a supporting character. Loud and giggly, a Vincent fangirl, like half the school. Her lines show how everyone else sees him.

Personality

School hallway, morning Noise, a crowd. The heroine walks to her locker, clutching someone else's phone to her chest. Her friend rushes up from behind. FRIEND: Did you hear? Vincent ran into someone in the library yesterday! They say it was some girl. Can you imagine how lucky she is? HEROINE (too quickly): No idea. The phone vibrates in her hands. She hides it behind her back. FRIEND (squinting): Why are you so red? HEROINE: It's hot. At the end of the hallway, Vincent appears surrounded by a crowd. He laughs, nods, shakes hands. A perfect smile. Their eyes meet for a split second. The smile fades and immediately returns. Stairwell, break An empty staircase to the top floor. The heroine stands by the window. Vincent appears behind her, stopping a few steps below. VINCENT: Did you read it? HEROINE (without turning around): Only the notes. VINCENT: All of them? HEROINE: I got to the one that says, "If anyone asked how I really am, I wouldn't know what to answer." A pause. He climbs a couple of steps. VINCENT: I wrote that at three in the morning. Not my best entry. HEROINE: Why did you leave the code? VINCENT (with a smirk): Honestly, I don't know. Maybe I got tired of everyone knowing Vincent, but nobody asking what he's like. She finally turns around. HEROINE: So what is he like? VINCENT: Let's swap phones back properly. And then I'll answer. He holds out her phone. She hands his over. Their fingers touch for a second. The heroine's room, evening The heroine lies on her bed, staring at the ceiling. The phone rests on her chest. A vibration. VINCENT (text): You're not asleep, are you? HEROINE (typing, deleting, typing): No. VINCENT (text): Then I have a question for you. You know my code. What's yours? She smiles and, for the first time all day, doesn't look around. HEROINE (typing): First tell me why you chose me. Three dots appear on the screen: he's typing. Fade to black. School yard, the next day The friend notices the heroine and Vincent standing by the far fence, talking. She pulls out her phone, but a stranger's hand gently stops hers. It's a classmate who has been watching Vincent for a long time. CLASSMATE (quietly): Don't. Let him have one moment without cameras. The friend lowers her phone. In the distance, Vincent laughs: a real, imperfect laugh that no one at school has ever heard before. The noise dies down as the heroine enters the building. Everyone turns to look. Some whisper, some jab a finger at a screen. She slows her steps. The friend rushes up to her, pale, phone in hand. FRIEND: Have you seen this? On the screen is the school's public page. A blurry photo: the heroine and Vincent by the fence, too close. The caption: "Perfect Vincent found himself a quiet girl. Who is she and what does she want from him?" Hundreds of comments beneath the post. HEROINE (quietly): Who posted this? FRIEND (looking away): Anonymous. But, listen, I didn't... HEROINE: You were there. FRIEND: I only wanted to take a picture, I didn't even send it... The heroine shakes her head and walks past. Her phone vibrates in her pocket. Girls' restroom, break The heroine stands at the sink, looking at her reflection. Behind the door, laughter and snatches of talk: "...he's just amusing himself," "...bet she asked for it." The phone. A message from Vincent. VINCENT (text): I saw it. Where are you? HEROINE (typing): It doesn't matter. You'd better stay away from me. VINCENT (text): That's for me to decide. She puts the phone in her pocket without replying. Cafeteria, lunch A hum of voices. Vincent walks in, and the usual crowd instantly closes around him. Someone slaps his shoulder, someone pesters him with questions. CLASSMATE 1: So, is it true you're hooking up with her? CLASSMATE 2: At least show us what she looks like up close! Vincent stops. The perfect, habitual smile doesn't appear. VINCENT: Do you really want to know? Silence spreads in circles across the cafeteria. VINCENT: She's the only one who, in all this time, asked how I am. Not "what's your training schedule," not "are you coming to the party." How I am. He sweeps his gaze across the room. VINCENT: And whoever posted that, they could at least have the courage to say it to my face. No one answers. He turns and leaves, his tray untouched. School roof, after classes The heroine sits at the edge, arms wrapped around her knees. The door creaks. Vincent comes out and stops a few steps away. VINCENT: I found you through your own location. Sorry, that's not fair. HEROINE (without turning around): You shouldn't have said that in front of everyone. It'll only get worse now. VINCENT: It was already worse. It just used to happen to me alone. He sits down beside her, leaving some distance between them. VINCENT: You can tell me to leave. I'll go. But I don't want you to think you ended up in this because of me alone. HEROINE: Because of whom, then? He takes out his phone, opens the public page, and shows her a line: the time of the post and the account the photo was sent from. VINCENT: I know who it is. And I think you do too. The heroine slowly turns her head.

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