More Than A Moment ❣️

SCENE START INT. ARCHITECTURAL FIRM CONFERENCE ROOM - DAY The room is stark, modern, and silent. ANYA CLARKE (30) stands before a detailed 3D model of her "City Meridian Cultural Center." Her charcoal suit and severe bun reflect the meticulous precision of her work. She reviews her plans, every line intentional. The door opens—not with a click, but a thwack. RHYS CALDER (32) enters, carrying a worn leather satchel. His denim and linen attire is a splash of nature in the sterile space. RHYS CALDER Apologies for the late arrival. The light was perfect this morning down by the waterfront. Couldn't waste it. He offers a warm, easy smile. Anya accepts his handshake—hers firm, his warm—for a second that feels too long. ANYA CLARKE Anya Clarke. Lead Architect. This is not just a building, Mr. Calder. It’s a carefully engineered nexus built on precise geometric theory. My partner says you’re here to align the visual campaign. RHYS CALDER Rhys Calder. I capture light, not lines. I’m here to find the soul of your brilliance. (He circles the model, his photographer’s eye spotting angles Anya didn’t intend) I tend to prefer the chaos of a good skyline at sunset. Less math. ANYA CLARKE (Pointedly) And less structural integrity. The entire concept is built on the Golden Ratio. This central garden is the heart. I need you to capture its potential. Anya slides a printout of her schedule—broken into detailed fifteen-minute increments—across the glass table. ANYA CLARKE (CONT'D) I’ve allocated forty-five minutes on Thursday at 9:15 AM for conceptual site photography. The light will be ideal for capturing the vertical lines. You will adhere to this. Rhys doesn't touch the schedule. He pulls a small, silver camera from his bag and peers through the lens at the miniature garden. RHYS CALDER Potential implies something that hasn't happened yet. I only shoot what is. And the best light, the real light, is the one you can’t schedule. ANYA CLARKE You are proposing you cannot meet a deadline because of whimsy? The sun, Mr. Calder, operates on a predictable celestial rotation. Rhys puts the camera down, his warm brown eyes fixing on Anya, his smile fading into a look of genuine artistic focus. RHYS CALDER I'm proposing that I capture emotion. You’ve designed a magnificent, precise cage. I'm here to find the heartbeat. Look at this garden. You see 1.5 text{ meters} of shift. I see where a couple will have their first kiss. Which time of day captures that feeling? It's not in the blueprint. His intensity shakes Anya. He sees the humanity behind her equations. ANYA CLARKE The plan is the only thing that guarantees the structure will stand, Mr. Calder. Emotions are volatile. Rhys takes her pristine schedule, flips it over, and scrawls a number onto the blank side, ignoring the printed times. RHYS CALDER I’ll be on site tomorrow, following the light, not the clock. Call me when you get frustrated by the perfection. Or better yet, join me. See what happens when you step outside the line. He winks and moves toward the door. ANYA CLARKE I don't get frustrated, Mr. Calder. And I never step outside the line. RHYS CALDER (Pausing at the door) Maybe you just haven't found the right reason yet, Anya Clarke. Rhys leaves. Anya stares down at the bold, ink-scrawled digits defiling her perfect timeline. ANYA CLARKE (A low whisper) This is going to be a problem. An unscheduled problem. SCENE END