All American Breakfast (wip)
PROLOGUE
Montage of home video footage of a young girl, beginning with her 6th birthday. This is CAITLYN, with perfectly straight brown hair. We see her childhood achievements, from her first lost tooth to straight-A report cards, all the way to her college graduation.
INT. BEDROOM — DAY
Caitlyn, now 23, is awoken from a distant clattering noise. She is in her childhood bedroom, visible from the lilac and yellow paint and crude childish drawings lining the walls. Annoyed, she groggily rubs her eyes, before suddenly grabbing her phone from the nightstand. She quickly checks her emails, only finding a few spam ads. Disappointed, she tosses the phone onto the bed and gets up.
INT. BATHROOM — DAY
Caitlyn is brushing her teeth. After spitting out the toothpaste, she examines her face in the mirror, noticing her acne-covered cheeks and the deep dark circles under her eyes. Unsatisfied and frustrated, she splashes water onto her face, lingering to stare into the mirror.
INT. HALLWAY — DAY
Caitlyn steps out of the bathroom, combing a hand through tangled hair. The hallway she walks through has a few modest photographs on the walls, including one of Caitlyn, aged 6, next to what appear to be her parents, smiling at the camera.
INT. KITCHEN — DAY
The kitchen is in complete disarray. Flour and batter cover the cheap countertops, even ending up on the chipped walls somehow, dishes are overflowing in the sink, and a malfunctioning radio shuffles between news and heavy metal. MARGIE, 62, very thin with graying hair, clumsily flips burnt pancakes on the stove. As she struggles, the smoke alarm sounds with a piercing shriek.
MARGIE
Oh, God damn it! Caitlyn!
Caitlyn rushes in, with the calmness of someone who has clearly been in this situation many times before.
CAITLYN
It’s alright, mom. It’s fine. I’ll handle it.
Standing up on a wooden dining chair, Caitlyn quickly removes the batteries from the detector. The awful noise stops, finally. Relieved yet still agitated, Margie lets out a sigh, returning to her barely salvageable pancakes. Caitlyn plops down into the same chair, awkwardly still for a moment. She turns her attention to the stove.
CAITLYN
We’re trying pancakes again?
MARGIE
(still facing the stove)
We are. Is that a problem?
CAITLYN
I didn’t say that. I’m just curious. I thought we were scared off by the last…attempt.
MARGIE
If you have a problem with it, make your own breakfast.
CAITLYN
I didn’t mean it like that. I just…
MARGIE
(cutting her off)
You know I don’t have to make us anything. You were the one complaining that we never had a family breakfast. You know your father and I worked mornings.
Caitlyn has long since stopped listening. She knows this conversation isn’t going anywhere. After a bit of awkward silence, Margie turns off the stove and comes to the table with two plates of slightly burnt pancakes. The plate at Margie’s seat holds a comically small pancake, next to a halved grapefruit. After unceremoniously setting the plates down, she makes her way into the kitchen again, and returns with an already-made pot of coffee. They begin their meal in silence.
MARGIE
So, any news about the internship?
At this, Caitlyn pushes her meal slightly aside.
CAITLYN
No, nothing yet.
Margie looks up at her.
MARGIE
(after a moment)
Caitlyn, you graduated more than a year ago.
CAITLYN
It’s been a year and one week.
MARGIE
You need to find a job. I like having you around but I can’t keep supporting you while you sit around the house all day. This isn’t like when you were a kid; I’m retired now, your father’s gone, and you need to have a career.
CAITLYN
I’m trying, mom. I am, but it’s really hard to land something with just an English degree.
MARGIE
What about writing?
CAITLYN
That’s why I applied for that editor internship.
Clearly unsatisfied, Margie just rolls her eyes and lightly throws a hand in the air. They sit in silence, not eating, just sipping coffee.
CAITLYN (CONT’D)
(about the coffee)
It’s a bit cold, isn’t it?
At this, Margie’s eyes widen in agitation. Before she can say anything, Caitlyn’s phone chimes. She pulls it out and, seeing what’s on the screen, sticks up straight with excitement. Margie watches her with curiosity.
MARGIE
What? What is it?
CAITLYN
The internship.
MARGIE
Well, what’d they say?
Caitlyn reads the email on her phone with a frantic excitement. As she continues reading, though, her face slowly falls with disappointment. Margie becomes more visibly confused. Caitlyn half-heartedly throws her phone onto the table. She smiles sardonically, clearly holding back emotion, and shakes her head at Margie.
MARGIE
No?
CAITLYN
Nope.
Margie makes a lightly sympathetic whine, a nonverbal “aww”. Caitlyn just sits in silence.
MARGIE
Well, it can’t be helped. Guess you’ll have to just find something else.
Margie stands and begins clearing the table, returning to the kitchen when finished. She washes the dishes, as Caitlyn remains at the table, staring blankly and tiredly into space.