Chapter Text
INT. COURTNEY’S BEDROOM – NIGHT
A calendar hangs on the wall.
In thick black marker:
30 DAYS UNTIL RETURN.
Courtney stares at it from her desk.
Her laptop is open to a contract draft. Legal language. Guest appearance. One week. Security provisions.
Her stomach twists.
A soft knock at the door.
DUNCAN (gentle):
“Ready?”
She nods — even though she doesn’t feel ready.
He walks in, squeezing her hand once.
Grounding.
⸻
INT. DINING ROOM – MOMENTS LATER
Her parents sit at the table.
The contract papers are already there.
They know.
Courtney sits across from them. Duncan sits beside her — not speaking yet, just present.
Her mother looks pale.
Her father looks firm.
COURTNEY’S MOM:
“Absolutely not.”
It’s immediate.
COURTNEY’S DAD:
“You nearly died there.”
Silence.
Courtney’s throat tightens — but she doesn’t shrink.
COURTNEY:
“I survived.”
Her mother’s eyes well up.
COURTNEY’S MOM:
“That’s not the same thing.”
Duncan stays quiet, letting Courtney speak first.
COURTNEY:
“They’re rebooting it. They’re using old footage. They’re talking about ‘legends.’ They’re acting like nothing happened.”
Her father’s jaw tightens.
COURTNEY’S DAD:
“Then we sue.”
COURTNEY:
“We can’t sue them for making a show.”
Her voice trembles slightly.
COURTNEY:
“I don’t want to hide every time they say the island’s name.”
Her mom shakes her head.
COURTNEY’S MOM:
“You don’t have to prove anything to anyone.”
Courtney swallows.
COURTNEY:
“I’m not trying to prove I’m over it.”
She looks down at her hands.
COURTNEY (quiet):
“I’m trying to prove it doesn’t own me.”
That lands.
But it doesn’t convince them.
Her father turns to Duncan.
COURTNEY’S DAD:
“And you’re okay with this?”
Duncan doesn’t flinch.
DUNCAN:
“I’m okay with her choosing.”
Her mother’s voice sharpens slightly.
COURTNEY’S MOM:
“She’s choosing to go back to the place that traumatized her.”
Duncan nods once.
DUNCAN:
“Yeah. And if she was doing it for the public, I’d drag her out of this house myself.”
Courtney glances at him — surprised.
He continues, calm and steady.
DUNCAN:
“But she’s not. She’s doing it because every time someone says ‘the island,’ she still freezes. Because she doesn’t want that reaction forever.”
Her parents fall silent.
DUNCAN:
“We’re not going back to compete. We’re not isolated. It’s one week. Guest appearance. Security in writing. Legal oversight. And if she changes her mind at any point?”
He looks at Courtney, then back at them.
DUNCAN:
“We leave. Immediately.”
Her father studies him carefully.
COURTNEY’S DAD:
“You think you can protect her from that place?”
Duncan’s voice lowers — honest.
DUNCAN:
“No. I can’t protect her from memories.”
A beat.
DUNCAN:
“But I can stand next to her while she faces them.”
Courtney’s eyes fill — not with fear.
With gratitude.
Her mother exhales shakily.
COURTNEY’S MOM:
“What if it triggers everything again?”
Courtney finally answers that herself.
COURTNEY:
“Then I deal with it. But on my terms. Not because a trailer blindsided me.”
Silence fills the room.
Her father looks at the contract again.
COURTNEY’S DAD:
“One week.”
Courtney nods.
COURTNEY:
“One week.”
COURTNEY’S MOM:
“And we approve every clause. Every security detail. Every edit involving you.”
Heather would be proud of that demand.
Duncan smirks faintly.
DUNCAN:
“Trust me. We’re not letting them spin her into some ‘fearless comeback’ storyline.”
Courtney’s dad finally leans back.
Defeated — but understanding.
COURTNEY’S DAD:
“If you go… you go with full support. Therapy check-ins. Security. Us on standby.”
Courtney’s voice cracks slightly.
COURTNEY:
“Thank you.”
Her mother reaches across the table and takes her hand.
COURTNEY’S MOM (softly):
“You don’t have to be brave for the world. Just be honest with yourself.”
Courtney nods.
⸻
INT. COURTNEY’S ROOM – LATER
The calendar fills the frame again.
Duncan stands behind her as she stares at it.
He wraps his arms around her waist gently.
DUNCAN (murmuring):
“Still sure?”
She leans back into him.
COURTNEY:
“I’m scared.”
He rests his chin on her shoulder.
DUNCAN:
“Good. Means you’re not numb.”
A small breath of a laugh escapes her.
COURTNEY:
“Thirty days.”
He presses a kiss to her temple.
DUNCAN:
“Thirty days. And we walk in together.”
The camera zooms slowly toward the calendar.
30 DAYS.
In the corner of the frame, Courtney’s phone lights up on her desk.
Unknown Number:
“Tick tock.”
The countdown has officially begun.