∙ 𝚁𝙸𝚂𝙸𝙽𝙶 𝚂𝚃𝙰𝚁 ∙

Ep 21 - Off-Script and On-Site (Pt 1)

CARLOTTA
(firmly):
"Fine by me. But Sunday, you rest. Study. Get your assignments done. Monday — back to the board."

Lisa nods half-heartedly as Carlotta gathers her things and heads upstairs.

CARLOTTA
(over her shoulder):
"And Lisa? Remember — tomorrow night, everyone will be watching."

Lisa watches her mother disappear down the hall. The house quiets — only the faint hum of city life outside.

She scrolls back to Aria's message, her reflection faintly glowing in the phone's screen.

LISA
(softly, to herself):
"Yeah... everyone always is."

KALEENA (V.O.):
"Maybe that's the curse of all of us who want to be seen — We forget how to be real when no one's watching."

She sighs — tired, yet wired — as she gets up and walks toward her room, the sound of her guitar pick clinking faintly against her phone case as the lights fade.

[INT. RATZIK'S HOTEL SUITE — NIGHT]

The city hums faintly outside, lights pulsing against the glass. A dim amber glow bathes the room — not too bright, not too dark. The curtains sway gently with the air conditioning.

Addison stands before the window, wrapped in the seafoam-blue sheer gown that catches the light like liquid silk. The gold cord cinches her waist, the embroidery at her chest glinting whenever she moves. Her skin gleams like moonlight.

Ratzik sits on the edge of the bed, tie loosened, shirt half-unbuttoned — a glass of whiskey in hand. He watches her with that dangerous stillness of someone who's used to getting what he wants.

The opening beat of "Lonely Star" by The Weeknd fades in from hidden speakers.

KALEENA (V.O.):
"They say every dream in this city has a sponsor.
But sponsorship always comes with fine print —
written in skin, not ink."

Addison turns to him, slow, deliberate.

RATZIK
(smiling, indulgent):
"You know, Addi... every time I see you like this, I think — you could have it all."

(Addison raises an eyebrow, amused.)

ADDISON:
"Could? Thought I already did."

He laughs, low in his throat, motioning her closer. She walks — each step measured, her gown whispering across the carpet. When she stops in front of him, he sets his glass down and rests a hand on her thigh, thumb tracing lazy circles through the sheer fabric.

RATZIK:
"You're my little starlet. You're gonna be a star.
Anything you want — the diamonds, the ace, the pearls..."

RATZIK:
(pointedly);
"The house. Even the medical bills for your mother — all covered."

Addison's lips part — surprise flashes, then softens into gratitude, maybe guilt.

ADDISON:
"You always know how to sell a dream."

RATZIK
(smirk, voice dipping lower):
"Baby, I don't sell dreams. I fund them."

He takes her hand and pulls her gently toward him — slow, like he's giving her time to refuse. She doesn't.

The song pulses:
"Baby, you could have it all... the cars, the clothes, the jewels, the sex, the house..."

Addison exhales through her nose, tension leaving her body as she sits astride his lap. Their faces hover close.