A Glitch in the Cold Brew
Hiding from the oppressive summer heat in a coffee shop, Leaf spots a girl whose laptop is covered in familiar, cryptic art. She might hold the key to the mystery he's chasing, if only he can find the nerve to talk to her.
TITLE: A GLITCH IN THE COLD BREW
INT. THOM BARGEN COFFEE SHOP - DAY
SOUND of a low, steady A/C hum, the hiss of an espresso machine, quiet chatter
The interior is a cool, dark sanctuary. Through the large front window, the outside world is a furnace. The air over the pavement SHIMMERS with oppressive heat.
JAVIER (20s), introverted and intense, is lost in his laptop. The screen is a grid of his own photographs—striking street art stenciled onto grimy urban surfaces. A BISON, half-erased. A CLOCKWORK HUMMINGBIRD.
Across the small table, LEO (20s), easygoing and pragmatic, slurps the last of his iced latte.
SOUND: A loud, wet GURGLE, like a rock pulled from mud.
LEO
You coming to the show tonight?
Javier doesn't look up. His focus is absolute. On his screen, he adjusts the contrast of a photo: a FOX made of circuit board traces. He makes the lines pop.
JAVIER
(murmurs)
What show?
LEO
The Weakerthans cover band? At the Times Change(d)? I told you about this like three times.
JAVIER
Oh. Right. Yeah, maybe. Depends on how this goes.
Javier gestures vaguely at his screen. This obsessive cataloguing of the artist they've nicknamed "Vector."
He finally glances up, a brief scan of the usual afternoon crowd: freelancers, students, a couple on an awkward first date.
And then he sees her.
ELARA (20s), in a corner by the window. Headphones on. Dark, choppy hair and a paint-splattered tank top. Her laptop faces away, its back a mosaic of stickers.
Javier’s eyes lock onto them. His breath hitches.
There, dead center, is a vinyl sticker of the clockwork hummingbird. Next to it, a smaller one of the circuit board fox.
It’s her. It has to be.
He kicks Leo under the table, a sharp, urgent nudge.
JAVIER
(hissing)
Leo. Leo, look. The girl in the corner. Her laptop.
Leo follows his gaze, unimpressed.
LEO
Okay... she likes stickers. So what? You can probably buy those online.
JAVIER
No, man. Not these. And look.
Javier leans, craning his neck, trying to see her screen.
JAVIER'S POV - ELARA'S SCREEN
It's not a website. It's a coding interface. Dark background, glowing multi-colored text scrolling past as her fingers fly across the keyboard. On the right, a preview window renders abstract, geometric shapes. They shift and morph with every few lines of code she types.
It's the digital DNA of the art on the walls.
BACK TO SCENE
Javier’s palms are sweating.
LEO
Go talk to her.
Javier whips his head back to Leo, horrified.
JAVIER
And say what? 'Hi, I’m the guy you secretly draw from rooftops, I love your work'?
LEO
Well, maybe leave out the second part. Just go ask her about the stickers. Say you like them. Ask where she got them. It's not hard.
For Javier, it is impossible. His face drains of color. He stares at Elara, a chasm of twenty feet between them. Rooted.
DISSOLVE TO:
INT. THOM BARGEN COFFEE SHOP - LATER
An hour has passed. Javier pretends to edit photos, but his cursor hasn't moved. His gaze keeps drifting back to Elara.
She remains completely absorbed, a universe of code and shifting patterns at her fingertips. She never looks up.
Leo, bored, is watching videos on his phone.
SOUND of a bulldog on a skateboard wiping out, followed by Leo’s quiet snicker.
Javier doesn't hear it. His focus is absolute.
Elara stops typing.
She closes her laptop. Slips it into a worn messenger bag. Stands up.
She’s leaving.
Javier’s muscles tense. His heart hammers against his ribs. *Get up. Say something. Anything.*
He doesn’t move.
Elara walks towards the door, her path taking her directly past their table. She looks straight ahead, her eyes a bright, intelligent grey.
She draws level with them.
Her hand, holding a crumpled napkin, dips just slightly.
IN SLOW MOTION - Her fingers open.
A small, folded piece of paper flutters down. It makes no sound as it lands on the table, right beside Javier's laptop.
A deft, invisible movement.
She doesn't break stride. Doesn't look back.
She pushes the door open and is swallowed by the wall of summer heat.
BACK TO NORMAL SPEED
Javier stares at the piece of paper.
Leo is still watching his phone, oblivious.
Javier’s hand trembles as he reaches for it. It's a ripped piece of receipt paper, folded into a tight square.
The realization hits him like a physical blow.
She knew. The entire time, she knew he was watching.
CLOSE ON JAVIER'S FACE
The observer has become the observed. He looks from the door, to the note, his eyes wide with terror and wonder.
INT. THOM BARGEN COFFEE SHOP - DAY
SOUND of a low, steady A/C hum, the hiss of an espresso machine, quiet chatter
The interior is a cool, dark sanctuary. Through the large front window, the outside world is a furnace. The air over the pavement SHIMMERS with oppressive heat.
JAVIER (20s), introverted and intense, is lost in his laptop. The screen is a grid of his own photographs—striking street art stenciled onto grimy urban surfaces. A BISON, half-erased. A CLOCKWORK HUMMINGBIRD.
Across the small table, LEO (20s), easygoing and pragmatic, slurps the last of his iced latte.
SOUND: A loud, wet GURGLE, like a rock pulled from mud.
LEO
You coming to the show tonight?
Javier doesn't look up. His focus is absolute. On his screen, he adjusts the contrast of a photo: a FOX made of circuit board traces. He makes the lines pop.
JAVIER
(murmurs)
What show?
LEO
The Weakerthans cover band? At the Times Change(d)? I told you about this like three times.
JAVIER
Oh. Right. Yeah, maybe. Depends on how this goes.
Javier gestures vaguely at his screen. This obsessive cataloguing of the artist they've nicknamed "Vector."
He finally glances up, a brief scan of the usual afternoon crowd: freelancers, students, a couple on an awkward first date.
And then he sees her.
ELARA (20s), in a corner by the window. Headphones on. Dark, choppy hair and a paint-splattered tank top. Her laptop faces away, its back a mosaic of stickers.
Javier’s eyes lock onto them. His breath hitches.
There, dead center, is a vinyl sticker of the clockwork hummingbird. Next to it, a smaller one of the circuit board fox.
It’s her. It has to be.
He kicks Leo under the table, a sharp, urgent nudge.
JAVIER
(hissing)
Leo. Leo, look. The girl in the corner. Her laptop.
Leo follows his gaze, unimpressed.
LEO
Okay... she likes stickers. So what? You can probably buy those online.
JAVIER
No, man. Not these. And look.
Javier leans, craning his neck, trying to see her screen.
JAVIER'S POV - ELARA'S SCREEN
It's not a website. It's a coding interface. Dark background, glowing multi-colored text scrolling past as her fingers fly across the keyboard. On the right, a preview window renders abstract, geometric shapes. They shift and morph with every few lines of code she types.
It's the digital DNA of the art on the walls.
BACK TO SCENE
Javier’s palms are sweating.
LEO
Go talk to her.
Javier whips his head back to Leo, horrified.
JAVIER
And say what? 'Hi, I’m the guy you secretly draw from rooftops, I love your work'?
LEO
Well, maybe leave out the second part. Just go ask her about the stickers. Say you like them. Ask where she got them. It's not hard.
For Javier, it is impossible. His face drains of color. He stares at Elara, a chasm of twenty feet between them. Rooted.
DISSOLVE TO:
INT. THOM BARGEN COFFEE SHOP - LATER
An hour has passed. Javier pretends to edit photos, but his cursor hasn't moved. His gaze keeps drifting back to Elara.
She remains completely absorbed, a universe of code and shifting patterns at her fingertips. She never looks up.
Leo, bored, is watching videos on his phone.
SOUND of a bulldog on a skateboard wiping out, followed by Leo’s quiet snicker.
Javier doesn't hear it. His focus is absolute.
Elara stops typing.
She closes her laptop. Slips it into a worn messenger bag. Stands up.
She’s leaving.
Javier’s muscles tense. His heart hammers against his ribs. *Get up. Say something. Anything.*
He doesn’t move.
Elara walks towards the door, her path taking her directly past their table. She looks straight ahead, her eyes a bright, intelligent grey.
She draws level with them.
Her hand, holding a crumpled napkin, dips just slightly.
IN SLOW MOTION - Her fingers open.
A small, folded piece of paper flutters down. It makes no sound as it lands on the table, right beside Javier's laptop.
A deft, invisible movement.
She doesn't break stride. Doesn't look back.
She pushes the door open and is swallowed by the wall of summer heat.
BACK TO NORMAL SPEED
Javier stares at the piece of paper.
Leo is still watching his phone, oblivious.
Javier’s hand trembles as he reaches for it. It's a ripped piece of receipt paper, folded into a tight square.
The realization hits him like a physical blow.
She knew. The entire time, she knew he was watching.
CLOSE ON JAVIER'S FACE
The observer has become the observed. He looks from the door, to the note, his eyes wide with terror and wonder.