HAPPINESS

A living machine. Sirens, bass from a club, taxis, street vendors, a couple fighting, laughter, heels on pavement. A STREET PREACHER screams into a mic: STREET PREACHER YOU'RE RUNNING OUT OF TIME! A BACHELORETTE GROUP staggers out of a limo. BACHELORETTE #1 WOO! LAST NIGHT OF FREEDOM! BACHELORETTE #2 SHE'S GETTING MARRIED! They chant and stumble past. A DOG WALKER gets dragged by three dogs, apologizing to everyone in his path. DOG WALKER Sorry—sorry—SORRY— A SAX PLAYER busks, beautiful melody swallowed by traffic. We weave through the chaos and descend into—

Packed. A LOUD COUPLE fights while everyone pretends not to hear. SUBWAY GUY You liked his comment! SUBWAY GIRL It was a sunset! SUBWAY GUY It was a thirst trap! Standing near them, gripping a pole—THE MAN (39). Tired. Present but absent. Face like someone running on fumes. The train screeches. He doesn't flinch.

Packed. Neon. People talk like they're being graded. THE MAN is present but not participating. He holds a drink he hasn't touched. He smiles at jokes a beat late. MIKE (40s, friendly, loud) throws an arm around him. MIKE Bro, you need to get back out there. Like— aggressively. THE MAN (flat) Noted. TESSA (30s, enthusiastic) appears out of nowhere. TESSA Have you tried Spark yet? It matches you based on aura readings. THE MAN just nods politely. TESSA (CONT'D) Or there's LoveFreq. This one uses your Spotify. That's how you know it's real. A DRUNK GUY stumbles past and yells at no one: DRUNK GUY New York! Love is dead! THE MAN quietly slips away toward the rooftop edge. Looks out at the skyline. Breathes.

THE WOMAN (34) lies in bed, phone inches from her face. Dating app messages flood the screen. "Hey beautiful" "U up?" "Do you want kids?" "Are you emotionally available?" "Wanna get drinks?" "Looking for something real." She scrolls. Tired. Overwhelmed. Face glowing blue. Then—an ad pops up: "STILL — A new kind of dinner. No bios. No expectations. Just presence." She stares at it. Hesitates. Then taps. She locks the phone. A neighbor's TV blares through the wall — a laugh track. She stares at the ceiling. Her face: tired of the performance.

Small. Clean. Lived-in. He sits on the edge of his bed, still dressed. A glass of whiskey on the nightstand. His phone buzzes. He looks at it. The same ad: "STILL — A new kind of dinner. No bios. No expectations. Just presence." He stares at it longer than expected. Then—taps.

Warm, alive. The kind of place where light bends beautifully. THE MAN enters. A HOST (20s, casually elegant) greets him. HOST Welcome to STILL. One seat for the tasting? THE MAN nods. HOST (CONT'D) You're early. Respect. She leads him to a two-top in the center of the room — not hidden, not private. Around him: A BIRTHDAY TABLE singing loudly. A PROPOSAL TABLE, girl crying, ring out. FINANCE BROS clinking glasses. A COUPLE on a disastrous first date. BAD DATE GUY I'm not saying I'm smarter than most people— BAD DATE GIRL You literally just said that. BAD DATE GUY —I said statistically. It's different. THE MAN glances at his phone. A notification: "Your guest is arriving." He puts the phone face down. The door opens. THE WOMAN enters. She pauses, scanning. Her eyes lock onto him immediately. The room is still loud, but the frame changes. Everything else becomes background. She walks toward him. Sits. A long beat. Then: THE MAN Hi. THE WOMAN Hi. That's it. Silence. Not awkward — charged. ANDRÉ (the waiter, 30s, French, warm) approaches. ANDRÉ Welcome. Chef's tasting menu tonight. No decisions needed. You just… exist. It's my favorite kind of table. They nod, grateful. He leaves. They look at each other. Around them, noise surges—laughter, clinking, shouting. But between them: stillness. They don't explain themselves. They don't perform. THE WOMAN (quietly) This is different. THE MAN (just as quietly) Yeah. She smiles. Just barely. So does he.

They eat. In silence. But not empty silence — full silence. At the next table: BAD DATE GIRL I just feel like you're not really listening. BAD DATE GUY I am listening. You're not saying anything interesting. At the birthday table: BIRTHDAY FRIEND Speech! SPEECH! At the proposal table: PROPOSAL GUY So... is that a yes? The WOMAN glances at the chaos. Then back at THE MAN. They share a look: we're the only calm table in the room. ANDRÉ returns. ANDRÉ How is everything? THE WOMAN (genuine) Perfect. ANDRÉ smiles and disappears. Time passes. Plates are cleared. The check comes. THE MAN reaches for it. THE WOMAN doesn't argue. He pays. They stand. Still no unnecessary words.

They step into cold air. NYC hits them again. A taxi nearly splashes them. They step back together instinctively, bodies close. A STREET PERFORMER juggles fire while screaming about cryptocurrency. STREET PERFORMER THE FUTURE IS DECENTRALIZED! They share a glance. Almost a laugh. They start walking side by side. PHONE CALL GUY (V.O.) (passing them) —I can't keep doing this, Karen! COUPLE FIGHTING (passing them) —You said you were over her! —I said I was working on it! They stop at a crosswalk. Red light. Their hands almost touch. He doesn't force it. She gently takes his hand first. He looks surprised — then grateful. The light changes. They cross as if they've always crossed together. They walk. Not toward anything. Just together. Finally, she stops. THE WOMAN (quietly) Goodnight. THE MAN (quietly) Goodnight. She starts to go. Then turns back. THE WOMAN Same time next week? He nods. She smiles. Then disappears into the city. He watches her go. Then turns and walks the other way. FADE OUT. END OF EPISODE 1