The Secret Life Of Sunnï Blū

[CC launches a ficus across the room, narrowly missing D,

J, shattering against the wall

The neighbors in the apartment next door can be heard muffled through the wall.

What the fuck was that?!

AGAIN?!

They're going to kill each other.

DJ

—I think you should go.

CC

I think you should go!

DJ

It's my apartment.

CC

Yeah, but I live here.

DJ

With me.

CC

Well, fuck you.

DJ

[staring at the shattered ficus vase and heap of miracle grow]

Ugh.

[CC hurls a small carry on suitcase in his direction]

CC

BYE-BYE DJ.

DJ

WHERE AM I SUPPOSED TO GO?!

CC

—To your parents.

DJ

They're outta town!

CC

Go with them!

[CC locks herself into the master bedroom; DJ deflatedly shuts off the lights and attempts to curl up on the couch—which explodes]

DJ

YOU PUT A BOMB IN THE COUCH.

CC

It's remote controlled.

DJ leave the apartment and walks down the street, still smoldering and dripping fire extinguisher foam; he arrives at his parents house to find that they have removed the spare key from under the mat, having replaced it with a note that reads “stop coming over uninvited.” He then opts to climb through the most acceible window, two stories up—and after a couple extremely unsuccessful attempts, finally managed to get through the window—his father emerges from the closet dressed as Superman

DJ?! What are you doing here?!

Me and CC got into a fight.

What did you do this time?!

What did I do?!

It's always your fault.

Why do you always take her side?!

Because— you're an idiot!

Yeah, thanks dad.

Goddammit, Dillon. Why are you here?!

Why are YOU here!? You're supposed to be out of town!

THAT'S none of your business!

And why are you dressed like Superman.

Shhh! Lower your voice.

And where's Mom?!?

SUPERMAN! SUPERMAN!

[DJs mom wearing a terrible wig and strange lingerie costume comes running into the kitchen over dramatically—she sees DJ and stops short]

SUPER—DILLON!? What are you doing here?!

I'm staying over!

No you are not!

[A large masked black man with his arms out playfully runs into the room—stopping and standing up straight as he approaches the family, staring in an awkward silence]

Who is THIS?!

…

OH MY GOD! MOM!

—well, we weren't expecting you!

WHAT THE FUCK, DAD.

—we told you to stop coming over uninvited!

YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO BE “OUT OF TOWN”.

How did you even get in here?!

THROUGH THE WINDOW—HOW DID YOU NOT SEE ME?!

We did see you!

We just thought you were our friend!

What—your “friend?!” WHAT?!

[ A man enters through the window dressed as a robber]

Oh—hey—I, uh—thought it was just the three of us.

It was supposed to be—

This is our son, Dillon; he had a fight with his girlfriend.

So—will he be joining us, or—?

OH MY GOD! NO! GROSS.

DJ, you're 40 years old.

I'm 35!

So grow up!

—so is this—party over— or

Should we reachedule?

NO

No—we'll just.

[wagging her finger] Dillon, Go to your room and do not come out and I don't want to hear a peep from you — not a peep; do you understand.

…yes.

Good! Now go.

DJ trails up the stairs bewildered, still covered in ash and with tears in his eyes.

DJ sits in his old bedroom attempting to drown out the sounds of his parents' weird shenanigans, crying softly to himself.

Enter The Multiverse}

[The Festival Project.™]

COPYRIGHT © THE FESTIVAL PROJECT 2023

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. ©

-U.

What did fame cost? What would it take? What was I missing? And of course—

‘How do I get there?'

I needed to know.

{Enter The Multiverse}

[The Festival Project.™]

COPYRIGHT © THE FESTIVAL PROJECT 2023

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. ©

-U.

INT. LA CREATIVE COMPLEX - DOWNTOWN LOS ANGELES, CALIFORNIA. NIGHT

A group of artists in route to the recording studio chatter amongst each other in passing.

SKIZZ

Now, if anybody asks- you say you're from New York.

SC

What?! For what?!

SKIZZ

Cuz no rappers are from Alaska!

SC

There are rappers in Alaska!

SKIZZ

I ain't never heard of 'em.

SC

You heard of me!

SKIZZ

You're from New York.

SC

Nobody will ever believe that!

8MILL

yo!

SC

yoo.

8MILL

--where you from?!

SC

Uhh--

[SKIZZ shoots her a look]

SC (CONT'D)

...Alas--[ka]

SKIZZ

--UH. She wit me. I brought'we.

8MILL

'Aight. Cool. C'mon.

[SKIZZ and SC look at each other with annoyance; the group heads further towards the back of the space, towards STUDIO 2.]

{Enter The Multiverse}

[The Festival Project.™]

COPYRIGHT © THE FESTIVAL PROJECT 2023

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. ©