INT. UNDERGROUND STATION. DAY. TRAVELLING.

The underground subway station is packed with people coming home from work. SOPHIE
and AARON stand on a heaving train, holding onto the bars above their heads. Sophie is
sporting attire that sticks out against the sea of business people in grey and navy suits and
ties, bold colours and clashing patterns cover her head to toe. Yet, Aarons clothes and his
expression matches those of the vacant public at the end of the long work day. Sophie is
looking puzzled and slightly amazed, you can see the cogs in her mind turning as the train
gently sways them both.

Aaron looks up at Sophie on instinct, almost as if he could feel her thinking. He removes an
earphone with his free hand and lets it fall onto his chest.

AARON
Whats happening in that head of yours?

Sophie hasn’t noticed that she caught her friends attention, and hardly hears him when he
speaks. She slowly turns her head to him.

SOPHIE
Hm?

AARON
I can almost smell smoke, what are you contemplating?

SOPHIE
I think I saw her.

AARON
Are you sure?

Sophie turns her head away from Aaron to stare into space again, as if it would help her
verbalise the mess of thoughts.

SOPHIE
Well that’s the thing, its weird. Do you ever have something that runs around your head at
100 miles per hour? It scratches at the walls of your skull like a prisoner engraving a tally of
how many days they’ve been behind bars, and it gives you a headache behind the eyes like a
cheap bottle of wine and a cigarette.

AARON
(slightly taken back by the sudden adoption of this poetic dialogue and lack of swearing-
Sophies usual dialect)
Yes?

SOPHIE
 It was her. But I can’t seem to remember a single thing about her. Not her eyes or nose or
smile or colours or smells. Nothing. But she’s there. In my head. Like the name of a song I
can’t remember, or a person on TV I can’t quite place. But it’s her.

Sophie has forgotten there is anyone there again, and before Aaron can talk again and pull her
back to reality, she continues…

SOPHIE
I just don’t know where she’s gone, she’s got to be somewhere in here right? I just have to
find her: go inside my brain and look everywhere, and swear that I looked everywhere, but
then look again like a key you eventually find under a couch cushion. I know its her. I can
feel it. Im drowning in it.

AARON
I think its driven you slightly mad.