FADE IN:

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EXT. LOS ANGELES - DAY

 

A new day dawns brightly on the endless expanse of suburbs and freeways that is Los Angeles. 

 

The city of dreams and of broken dreams.

 

EXT. APARTMENT COMPLEX - DAY

 

A Coroner's van drives past a faded sign - "West Side Palms".

 

The van winds through the dumpy apartment complex.

 

                                    BACALL (V.O.)

                          All of us who died today lived lives, had

                          jobs, got drunk, slept, felt

                          and then all that life vanishes. 

                          Mine too.  It's as though none of

                          us ever really existed.  But my

                          story should be on the front

                          page of every newspaper.  It

                          should lead off the cable news

                          all day.  Should, but it won't.

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The van parks near a handful of curious onlookers.  TWO MEN exit the van as does the CORONER, a woman about 45.

 

The Men pull a gurney, trundle it to a first-floor apartment.

 

INT. BACALL'S LIVING ROOM - DAY

 

Here's a dreary apartment.  On a card table, serving both as a dining table and desk are scattered papers, an open laptop, and nearby, an ironing board.

 

JAMES BACALL lies dead on an old sofa ...his face stark white and most notably his hair is uniformly very thin - his scalp clearly shows.

 

In the living room just a TV, a chair, a sofa, a coffee table.  That's it.  Out the backslider is the 405, just yards away.

 

In the corner of the room stands KATHERINE STONE, attractive, her arms tightly folded across her chest.

 

Near Stone, sits AVA TAN, Chinese, 28, her hair too is thin but not as severely as Bacall's.  Tan rocks slowly back and forth in a futile effort to calm herself.

 

The Coroner walks to the sofa, takes a few photos of Bacall's body.

 

She checks her cell: 5:23 AM, turns to Stone.

 

                                    CORONER

                           ...were you friends with

                           Mr. Bacall?

 

Stone nods.

 

                                    CORONER (CONT'D)

                           Was he ill?

 

Stone shrugs as though she doesn't know.

 

                                    CORONER (CONT'D)

                           Are you next of kin?

 

                                    STONE

                           No, a friend ...his girlfriend.

 

                                    CORONER

                           Will you be notifying the

                           next of kin?

 

                                    STONE

                           ...I don't know if he has family,

                           we never talked about that.

 

The coroner puts on gloves.  As she runs her fingers through his hair clumps fall between her fingers

 

                                    CORONER

                           When did he start losing his

                           hair like this?

 

                                    STONE

                           A few weeks ago.

 

She holds her hand up with a large clump of hair.

                                    CORONER

                           All this happened in just

                           three weeks?

Stone nods.

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                                    CORONER (CONT'D)

                           Was he seeing a doctor,

                           taking new medications?

 

Stone shakes her head no.

 

Tan runs her fingers through her hair, she pulls a few strands.

                                   

                                    TAN

                             (crying quietly)

                           I'm gonna die.

                             (whispering)

                           Me too.

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