Trespass on Greener Ground
A climb up a forgotten fire escape leads to a hidden world above the city streets—a secret rooftop garden. But as Leaf and Leo explore the unauthorized sanctuary, they find unsettling proof that its creator knows who they are.
EXT. WAREHOUSE FIRE ESCAPE - LATE AFTERNOON
The rusted iron grid of a fire escape zig-zags six storeys up the grimy brick face of an old warehouse.
SOUND of distant traffic, a low urban hum
LEAF (17), agile and sure-footed, climbs with practiced ease. Below her, LEO (17) clings to the railing, his movements hesitant.
LEO
> You sure this thing will hold?
Leaf grunts, pulling herself onto the next landing. The metal GROANS in protest. She doesn't look down.
LEAF
> It's held for fifty years, it'll hold for fifty more pounds of you.
She looks out, a smile playing on her lips.
ANGLE ON THE VIEW - The city unfolds. The Legislative Building's dome gleams gold in the sun. The rigid street grid becomes an abstract pattern. Freedom.
Leaf scrambles up the final ladder to the roof.
EXT. WAREHOUSE ROOF - CONTINUOUS
Leaf heaves herself over the ledge, her sneakers scraping on gravel. She stands, ready to take in the usual barren expanse of tar-paper and vents, and then she FREEZES.
Her POV - An impossible sight.
A GARDEN.
Not just a few pots, but a thriving, secret oasis. Planter boxes made from old shipping pallets overflow with tomato plants. Sunflowers stand like sentinels along the roof's edge. Runner beans climb a trellis of rebar and twine. In the center, a gnarled apple tree grows from a massive industrial tub.
Leo pulls himself up beside her, panting. He sees the garden and his jaw goes slack.
LEO
> Holy crap.
He turns in a slow circle, utterly speechless.
LEO
> (whispering)
> Who... how?
LEAF
> (in awe)
> Someone's been busy.
They walk through narrow paths between the planters. The air smells of damp earth and chlorophyll, a stark contrast to the diesel fumes from the street below.
Leaf reaches out, her fingers brushing against a sunflower petal. It's more than beautiful. It's a statement.
Then, tucked behind the row of sunflowers, they see it: a small, makeshift shelter. A tarp stretched over a frame of salvaged two-by-fours.
The awe evaporates. Replaced by a cold prickle of unease.
INT. MAKESHIFT SHELTER - MOMENTS LATER
They peer inside. A neatly rolled sleeping bag. A wooden crate serving as a table. A few empty cans. It's a home.
The feeling of being intruders lands like a lead weight.
LEO
> (whispering)
> We should go.
But Leaf's eyes are fixed on the crate. On it sits a worn, leather-bound sketchbook. She hesitates for only a second before reaching in and picking it up.
LEO
> Leaf, don't.
She ignores him, opening the book.
CLOSE ON SKETCHBOOK
The pages are filled with astonishingly detailed pencil drawings.
INSERT - A hyper-realistic sketch of a stone gargoyle from a nearby heritage building.
INSERT - A panoramic view of the downtown skyline at dawn, the light and shadow rendered perfectly.
Leaf flips a page.
INSERT - A page filled with strange, cryptic symbols, like a personal alphabet.
INSERT - A perfect, practice rendering of a CLOCKWORK HUMMINGBIRD, a piece of stenciled street art they've seen in the city.
LEO
> Leaf, look at this.
He points to a page she just passed.
INSERT - A hand-drawn map of the downtown area. Instead of street names, it's marked with the strange symbols. Several locations are circled in red ink. One circle is over the alley behind the Bay. Another is right here. On this roof.
LEAF
> (a breath)
> This is Vector. This has to be the artist from the alley. They live here.
A growing sense of dread mixes with her admiration. This is too much. A diary. She's about to close the book, to put it back.
But she sees the last page.
It's not a finished drawing. Just a rough, quick sketch.
INSERT - THE FINAL SKETCH
The perspective is high, looking down into a long, narrow canyon of brick. An alley. Two small, hunched figures are deep within it, near a row of green dumpsters. One of them is holding a camera.
Leaf's blood runs cold.
She knows this scene. She knows those figures.
It's them.
It's a sketch of her and Leo in the alley last week. Drawn from the perspective of someone on a fire escape... six storeys up.
CLOSE ON LEAF
Her face. The look of wonder and freedom is gone, utterly erased. In its place is a mask of pure, chilling dread.
The explorer has become the explored. The observer, the observed.
She slowly lifts her eyes from the book, her gaze darting across the silent, watching rooftops of the city. She is no longer alone.
The rusted iron grid of a fire escape zig-zags six storeys up the grimy brick face of an old warehouse.
SOUND of distant traffic, a low urban hum
LEAF (17), agile and sure-footed, climbs with practiced ease. Below her, LEO (17) clings to the railing, his movements hesitant.
LEO
> You sure this thing will hold?
Leaf grunts, pulling herself onto the next landing. The metal GROANS in protest. She doesn't look down.
LEAF
> It's held for fifty years, it'll hold for fifty more pounds of you.
She looks out, a smile playing on her lips.
ANGLE ON THE VIEW - The city unfolds. The Legislative Building's dome gleams gold in the sun. The rigid street grid becomes an abstract pattern. Freedom.
Leaf scrambles up the final ladder to the roof.
EXT. WAREHOUSE ROOF - CONTINUOUS
Leaf heaves herself over the ledge, her sneakers scraping on gravel. She stands, ready to take in the usual barren expanse of tar-paper and vents, and then she FREEZES.
Her POV - An impossible sight.
A GARDEN.
Not just a few pots, but a thriving, secret oasis. Planter boxes made from old shipping pallets overflow with tomato plants. Sunflowers stand like sentinels along the roof's edge. Runner beans climb a trellis of rebar and twine. In the center, a gnarled apple tree grows from a massive industrial tub.
Leo pulls himself up beside her, panting. He sees the garden and his jaw goes slack.
LEO
> Holy crap.
He turns in a slow circle, utterly speechless.
LEO
> (whispering)
> Who... how?
LEAF
> (in awe)
> Someone's been busy.
They walk through narrow paths between the planters. The air smells of damp earth and chlorophyll, a stark contrast to the diesel fumes from the street below.
Leaf reaches out, her fingers brushing against a sunflower petal. It's more than beautiful. It's a statement.
Then, tucked behind the row of sunflowers, they see it: a small, makeshift shelter. A tarp stretched over a frame of salvaged two-by-fours.
The awe evaporates. Replaced by a cold prickle of unease.
INT. MAKESHIFT SHELTER - MOMENTS LATER
They peer inside. A neatly rolled sleeping bag. A wooden crate serving as a table. A few empty cans. It's a home.
The feeling of being intruders lands like a lead weight.
LEO
> (whispering)
> We should go.
But Leaf's eyes are fixed on the crate. On it sits a worn, leather-bound sketchbook. She hesitates for only a second before reaching in and picking it up.
LEO
> Leaf, don't.
She ignores him, opening the book.
CLOSE ON SKETCHBOOK
The pages are filled with astonishingly detailed pencil drawings.
INSERT - A hyper-realistic sketch of a stone gargoyle from a nearby heritage building.
INSERT - A panoramic view of the downtown skyline at dawn, the light and shadow rendered perfectly.
Leaf flips a page.
INSERT - A page filled with strange, cryptic symbols, like a personal alphabet.
INSERT - A perfect, practice rendering of a CLOCKWORK HUMMINGBIRD, a piece of stenciled street art they've seen in the city.
LEO
> Leaf, look at this.
He points to a page she just passed.
INSERT - A hand-drawn map of the downtown area. Instead of street names, it's marked with the strange symbols. Several locations are circled in red ink. One circle is over the alley behind the Bay. Another is right here. On this roof.
LEAF
> (a breath)
> This is Vector. This has to be the artist from the alley. They live here.
A growing sense of dread mixes with her admiration. This is too much. A diary. She's about to close the book, to put it back.
But she sees the last page.
It's not a finished drawing. Just a rough, quick sketch.
INSERT - THE FINAL SKETCH
The perspective is high, looking down into a long, narrow canyon of brick. An alley. Two small, hunched figures are deep within it, near a row of green dumpsters. One of them is holding a camera.
Leaf's blood runs cold.
She knows this scene. She knows those figures.
It's them.
It's a sketch of her and Leo in the alley last week. Drawn from the perspective of someone on a fire escape... six storeys up.
CLOSE ON LEAF
Her face. The look of wonder and freedom is gone, utterly erased. In its place is a mask of pure, chilling dread.
The explorer has become the explored. The observer, the observed.
She slowly lifts her eyes from the book, her gaze darting across the silent, watching rooftops of the city. She is no longer alone.