“In a town without rhythm, one boy dares to dance. A journey of courage, rebellion, and unstoppable love.”
In the pulsing heart of Chicago where the lights never dim, where music is a part of life and dance is a language of the soul, lived Ren McCormack. His life was a symphony of sounds, from the syncopated beat of his heart to the rhythmic strumming of a guitar, music was his life-jacket in an ocean of chaos and monotony. Dancing was his release, his freedom, his joy. Every movement translated into an expression, every beat a punctuation in a long book of symphonies. Moving from this city of light and rhythm, to the quiet pastoral stretches of Bomont, was a plunge into a world unknown for him.
Chapter 1: “Arrival in Bomont”
The McCormacks arrived in Bomont one breezy morning. The sun painted the sky a rosy hue as their beaten-up car trundled down the long, winding road leading to the town. Ren, caught between the remnants of his dreams and the incipient reality, looked out at the new world through half-open eyes. The dew-kissed pastures, the tranquil serenity, the quaint houses – it all seemed like a painting.
Bomont was quiet, eerily so. The town was like a still, clear pond untouched by a breeze. Ren, accustomed to the continual hum of life in Chicago, felt his senses jolted. He heard birds chirping, the rustling of leaves – sounds that were lost in the concrete jungle he’d left behind. Resisting the instinctive pull of the city, he tried to equate this silence with peace.
The transition was jarring. He missed the cacophony of Chicago – the blaring horns, the strident voices, the distant music that somehow seeped into his apartment from the club down the road. Music, the very fabric of his existence, the rhythm to which his life danced, seemed noticeably absent here. As if reading his thoughts, his mother turned the car radio on. A preacher’s voice filled the car, a sermon about the evils of music and dance, creating a surreal atmosphere. He looked at his mother, the question burning in his eyes.
“Yes, Ren,” his mother said, hands tightly gripping the wheel. “Music and dancing are illegal here. It’s the law.” His heart dropped, a ship sinking in a sea of disbelief. His dreams, his plans, his identity, all thwarted by an unheard-of law. As he grappled with this reality, he felt his world collapse in on itself.
In the days that followed, Ren tried to adjust to his new life. He attended the local high school, where conversations about music were whispered, dances were practiced in secret, and people lived in the fear of being caught. It was as if the town was holding its breath, straining under the weight of unplayed tunes and rhythmic movements. The absence of music and dance was haunting, turning Bomont into a town suspended in time.
Yet, among this stifling silence, there was Ariel. Beautiful, rebellious Ariel. She was music personified, a dancer whose movements were halted by conventions. Ren met her in the school hallway, her eyes held a defiance that drew him in like a moth to a flame. Ariel was a kindred spirit, a fellow rebel in a land of compliance. Friendship blossomed into a forbidden romance, the secret tunes of their hearts playing a clandestine ballet.
Chicago seemed a world away, as did his old self. He longed for the liberation that music and dance offered. This place, with its laws and restrictions, was alien to him. Yet, he found himself drawn to Ariel, to her defiance, and to the secret world of music and dance they built together.
As much as Ren resented Bomont, he began to understand its rhythm, its silence, its secrets. And in this understanding, he found his resolve — a resolve to fight, to bring music back, to liberate the town from its self-imposed silence, and to dance freely once again. Unbeknownst to him, the rhythm of change was about to strum through the quiet town of Bomont. The first beat, however, would be the hardest to play.
Chapter 2: “The Law of the Land”
Ren McCromick had never experienced such a drastic change in scenery before. He stood at the edge of Bomont, with the archaic town sign flexing under the relentless wind. This was the first time he felt the weight of the town’s oppressive silence. The only noise came from the rustling of leaves, a sound so strange to him, accustomed to the hum of Chicago’s bustling life, the rhythm of jazz that emanated from the city’s soul.
There was no music here. There was no dance. That was the law of the land.
As Ren journeyed through Bomont, he was disarmed by the ever-present, austere quietude. Snippets of hushed conversations floated in the air as he passed the town folk, making him feel like an intruder in his own world. It was as though he’d stepped into a time capsule where the past’s firm grasp had stifled any chance for the future.
A conversation with Rev. Shaw Moore, the town’s spiritual and moral custodian, only confirmed Ren’s fears. The reverend’s face was stern as he explained the rationale behind such a harsh decree. Ren could see the pain lurking behind Moore’s graying eyes as he spoke of an accident years past, a tragedy that claimed the lives of five teenagers. The accident had occurred on the way back from a dance; hence the town unanimously agreed on a prohibition to keep their children safe.
Ren felt an icy shiver creep up his spine as he imagined how the town must have grieved, the blanket of sorrow that descended upon Bomont, snuffing out its color and life, replacing it with monochrome shadows. His heart pounded against his ribs, a wild drummer demanding to break free from its cage. This town was not just quiet. It was muted by its own grief, its spirit chained by the haunting past.
For Ren, music and dance were lifelines. Dance was an expression of the soul, a language more profound than words. Music was an escape, a catharsis in the face of life’s storms. Denying these was like denying one’s very essence. Yet, for the sake of grief which he hadn’t lived or a fear he couldn’t fathom, he was expected to comply.
His new school was a reflection of the town — a place where silence echoed louder than voices, where laughter was snuffed out under the weight of unspoken regulations. He was an outsider in a place that valued conformity. His city roots made him stick out like a vibrant splash of color in a gray painting.
He remembered the carefree dances under the bright lights of Chicago, the fleeting feeling of freedom, the sheer thrill of movement. It was a foreign concept here in Bomont. The idea that music and dance could be seen as forms of corruption was ridiculous to him.
Yet, despite the stifling pressure to conform, Ren refused to let go of his identity. He was not one to simply accept, to roll over, to surrender. He had a burning passion for dance, a language he spoke fluently. He had music coursing through his veins, a melody that simply would not be silenced. How could he deny his own destiny? But how could he challenge the law that was written in the hearts of these people?
Thus began Ren’s battle against the law of the land, the fight for his right to express himself freely, as he had back in Chicago. It was a battle not just for music and dance but for freedom of thought, for individuality, for the vibrant color of passion against the bleak grays of repression.
He would have to challenge not just the rules but also the collective mindset that held the town in its fear-addled grip. He didn’t know how, but he was determined to bring music and dance back to Bomont, to infuse life into this quiet town, to challenge the inky black of grief with the brilliant white of joy.
Ren McCromick, the outsider, was about to embark on a revolution that would shake the very foundation of this small town in the West. He was prepared to dance, even in the face of the storm.
Chapter 3: “Meeting Ariel”
In the heart of Bomont, under the stern gaze of local monuments to religious faith and country living, Ren made an accidental acquaintance. He was on his way back from the abandoned warehouse, a secret haven where he allowed himself to move, to let his body express the emotions his words could not capture. His limbs moved rhythmically and seamlessly, creating a visual symphony that was a dance. It was a part of Chicago he secured in a corner of Bomont.
However, it was there, in the eerie quiet of the deserted streets, that he spotted her. A young woman, not too different from himself, walking with an air of rebellion that instantly piqued his curiosity. Her every movement was a silent protest against the town’s oppressive quietude. She was the first semblance of familiarity he’d encountered since he left the big city’s intoxicating chaos.
He had heard whispers about Ariel. The town’s whispers were impossible to ignore, filled as they were with disapproval and simultaneous envy. Ariel Moore, the preacher’s daughter, brought a spark of controversy to the monotonous life of Bomont. The whispers told him of her defiance — her love for the very things that the town turned its back on — music and dance. She was, in essence, a piece of the puzzle that was Ren’s life in Bomont.
For the first time since Ren’s arrival, he felt compelled to reach out to someone. The universe seemed to conspire their meeting as Ren bumped into Ariel while she was copying a music sheet from a hidden, worn-out cassette. The familiar markings on the sheet tugged at his heartstrings, reminding him of what he was missing. Their eyes met, and they both recognized a kindred spirit in the other — rebels at heart, longing for liberation from the constraints of Bomont’s life.
As they spent more time together, Ren was drawn to Ariel’s spirit. Her eyes told stories of late-night dance-offs, pulsating music, and stolen moments of rebellion. Her laughter was poetry set to a rhythm that resonated with his own heartbeat. Her love for dance and music was palpable, ringing true with every word she spoke about them. Ariel was not just a town rebel; she was an emblem of everything he missed and everything he aspired to bring to Bomont. Their bond grew, strengthened by shared dreams and a mutual desire to challenge the status quo.
Romance kindled between them, as delicate as the first notes of a melody, as fierce as a dance routine’s powerful climax. Late-night confessions under the starry Bomont sky, stolen kisses in the hidden corners of the town, and shared dreams of a home reverberating with music and dance marked their romance. Each encounter was a secret dance in itself – a push and pull, a step forward, a step back, a swirl of emotions that left them both dizzy and craving for more.
But with this budding connection came complications. With every stolen moment, they were defying the norms of Bomont, risking their positions in the community, and inviting the townsfolk’s wrath. Ren’s resolve to change the town’s rules was tested with each passing day. The pressure was mounting, but so was their desire to not just exist, but really live.
Ariel, with her fiery spirit, gave Ren a purpose, a reason to bring a revolution. He was no longer an outsider trying to fit in; he was a part of a pair challenging the antiquated laws of a town stuck in time. They concluded the chapter with a promise under the luminescent moonlight. A pact to bring the town alive with the power of dance and music. To give Bomont what it didn’t know it needed – a chance to feel alive, to heal, and to express through dance what words could not capture.
The story of Ren’s life in Bomont was no longer just a tale of an outsider; it was a dance of love and rebellion with Ariel.
Chapter 4: “The Challenge”
The chill of the morning still hung in the quiet air of Bomont as Ren stepped out onto the street. His heart pulsed in rhythm with the music that he could only hear in his mind – a rhythm that the town had forbidden. The small, rustic houses lined the street, their silence and stillness mirroring the conservative ethos of the town. It was a picturesque scene, but for Ren, it was a canvas devoid of the vibrant colors of music and dance.
A secret awaited in Ren’s heart, a rebellious plan to challenge the laws that caged the spirits of Bomont’s inhabitants. He was going to organize an illegal dance party, a wave of defiance against the tide of conventional monotony. The word spread in hushed whispers. Excitement and dread flickered in the eyes of those who heard, the spark of rebellion igniting their fears and hopes alike. For them, it was an audacious move, a direct affront to the town’s longstanding law, a law that hung over Bomont like a shroud.
Ren met Ariel at their secret spot, a secluded meadow where the grass danced freely in the wind, and the trees whispered tales of freedom. She was a beacon of rebellious spirit, her fiery hair reflecting her refusal to bow to the town’s archaic rules. As Ren shared his plan, anticipation bloomed in her silver-blue eyes, mirroring the thrill that pricked his heart. Together, they began to weave their vision, fueled by their shared love for music and dance.
The subsequent clandestine meetings and the rush of preparations became their shared secret, a world separate from the monotonous humdrum of Bomont. They found spaces hidden from prying eyes, gathered a brave few who dared to dream, and procured music that seemed almost a sin to own in their town. Amidst their hushed laughter and whispered plans, the connection between Ren and Ariel deepened, blossoming into a passionate, forbidden romance.
As the day of the dance drew closer, a sense of unease began to creep into their secret world. Whispers of their plans started to echo among the town’s elders, the town’s stern bearers of the law. Tensions soared. The rebellious act was akin to a declaration of war against the town’s staunch beliefs. Ren’s resolution was met with threatening glares and bitter backlash from the elders, amplifying the anxieties that bubbled beneath the surface.
The whispers reached Rev. Shaw Moore, the revered town priest and Ariel’s father, a staunch supporter of the law. His wrath was as fierce as his sermon against sins. As Ren stood in the crowd during the sermon, the Reverend’s searing words clenched around his heart. The stern gaze that locked with Ren’s was enough to send shivers of foreboding. Ariel’s heart echoed the same fear, but their shared gaze across the crowd bore unspoken promises.
The night of the dance arrived, laden with uncertainty and fear. Ren, Ariel, and their band of rebels gathered in their secret haven. The needle dropped onto the record, and the first notes pierced the tense silence. As the music flowed, a wave of liberation swept over them. They moved, swayed, danced, and laughed. For a while, they forgot about the world outside, lost in the rhythm and their shared act of rebellion.
However, their bubble of rebellion was punctured abruptly. The roar of approaching sirens sliced through the music, bringing their world crashing down. Panic swept over them – a dance of fear, unlike the dance of liberation they had enjoyed moments ago. The law had finally caught up, threatening to engulf them in its icy grip.
As they stared at the flashing lights, fear evident in their wide eyes, Ren felt a surge of determination. He had sparked this rebellion, and he would face whatever consequences came with it. The chapter of “The Challenge” had ended, but the story was far from over. The battle had only begun.
Chapter 5: “Revelation of a Tragedy”
The air in Bomont bore the crisp edge of autumn, a subtle hint of the chill to come. Ren had bundled himself in heavy clothes as he paced around the eerily silent town. He would often find himself alone, the town’s people giving him a wide berth due to his constant challenges towards their way of life. His thoughts were a whirling tempest, an echo of the music and dancing he so dearly missed. They were his outlet, his sanctuary, and now, more so than ever, they felt incredibly distant.
A rustling sound drew his attention to the church, where Reverend Shaw Moore, the town’s spiritual and moral compass, stepped out, his face bearing a troubled look. Ren had viewed the Reverend as his main adversary in the town. The Reverend’s daughter Ariel, the girl who had captured his heart, had often spoken of her father as a staunch and unyielding enforcer of the dance ban.
“You look troubled, son,” Reverend Moore’s voice cut through the silence, causing Ren to jolt out of his reverie. His face softened, showing the side of a compassionate pastor who shepherds his congregation through every storm.
“I…”, Ren hesitated. He was torn between his growing frustration and the unexpected concern coming from the man he had considered his enemy. Collecting his thoughts, he decided to voice out his torment.
“I don’t understand this place, Reverend. Why can’t we express ourselves? Why can’t we dance and play music? Why is it seen as something…sinful?” Ren questioned, his voice raw with unchecked passion.
Reverend Moore’s face hardened, the lines on his face seeming to deepen. He took a deep breath, his gaze distant. A long silence followed before he finally spoke, his voice bearing the burden of immense pain. “Five years ago,” he began, “a fatal accident took the lives of several teens coming back from a dance. My son, Bobby was there. Ariel’s older brother.” His voice choked on the words, his eyes welling up with unshed tears.
Ren stood there, shocked. He’d heard whispers, vague hints of a tragedy, but not this. The story was a gut punch, an open wound that the town had been nursing. He suddenly understood the fear that spurred the laws which seemed ridiculous to him just a few moments ago.
“Maybe you understand now, son,” Reverend Moore said, his voice wavering. “The horror of that night isn’t something I’d wish upon anyone. We made these laws for safety, for our peace.”
Ren’s heart ached, not just for the Reverend but for Ariel, who had lost a brother, for the town that had lost its youth. His ardent desire to see the town alive with music and dance was now mixed with a profound understanding of the town’s collective trauma.
The revelation left Ren in a whirl of emotions; anger, empathy, confusion, and determination jostling for space. The empathetic part of him wanted to console Ariel and the Reverend. Still, the rebel in him felt their pain should not be a reason to deprive an entire generation of the joys of music and dance. The realization that Bomont’s wounds ran deeper than he thought complicated his mission, but it also solidified his resolve. He decided, then and there, not just to dance, but to heal.
As Ren walked away, he carried with him a piece of Bomont’s pain. The journey ahead appeared steeper, but he would climb. Not just for himself, but for Ariel, for Bobby, and for Bomont. The fight for music and dance had transcended into a fight for redemption. The stage was ready, the characters in place, and the climax yet to come.
Chapter 6: “The Showdown”
People hurried on their way, the humdrum of Bomont seeming unchanged, yet an undercurrent of anticipation swirled like a brewing storm. The town hall had never held so much weight, nor seen such frothing excitement. Inside its rustic walls, a meeting was in progress. The room was pregnant with the tension of the era-defining confrontation it was about to witness.
Ren had been summoned, not as a casual teenager but as a challenger of the town’s long-standing societal norms. The elders were present, faces like craggy landscapes, etched deep with the scars of past woes and present disdain. They stared at him, peering over glasses perched precariously on the edge of their noses. They questioned his intentions, pressing him to defend his audacity to challenge their laws.
Ren’s heart pounded in his chest like a drum, keeping time with the rhythm of his internal turmoil. He was aware of the somber eyes of Reverend Moore, the town’s spiritual and temporal guide, watching him intently. The Reverend’s daughter, the fiery and vivacious Ariel, sat in the crowd. Her eyes, full of defiance and hope, stayed fixed on Ren, their shared conviction connecting them in this charged room.
Ren took a breath, steadying himself, and stood to address the town elders. His words were laden with passion as he began unravelling his arguments, pulling apart the threads of the oppressive laws that shackled their town. “Music and dance,” he said, his voice echoing in the silent room, “are not just expressions of joy. They are declarations of our identity, our freedom, our resilience!”
His voice pierced the heavy silence. It clawed its way into hearts, yanking out suppressed emotions, daring them to feel the beat of their hearts, the pulsating rhythm of the life they had forsaken. Some eyes widened, catching glimpses of a forgotten past. Others narrowed, clinging onto their fear-fueled resolve. Reverend Moore’s eyes, however, reflected an inner turmoil, the churning of a man caught between the shadows of the past and the beckoning light of the future.
Ren spoke of the tragic past but reminded them that fear should not define their present or future. Each word was a note in the symphony of his plea, his fervor gradually awakening the dormant passions of the elders. Across the room, Ariel battled her own emotions, her heart throbbing in time with Ren’s impassioned speech. Every syllable amplified her courage, solidifying her resolve to stand beside him, come what may.
As he poured forth his case, you could feel an electric current of change pulsing through the room. His appeal was more than an impassioned plea; it was a call to action, a siren song luring those in its wake to reconsider their views, challenge their fears and overcome their self-imposed shackles.
Ren’s speech intensified, his words echoing through the town hall, a roar against the silence that had gripped Bomont for years. He filled the room with an orchestral symphony of hope, every sentence striking a chord, every word a poignant note, articulating the essence of their deepest human need to communicate, to express, to dance.
As he finished his defense, the rustling of clothes echoed in the silent room. In the hush that followed, he looked at Reverend Moore. The glimmer of doubt in the elder’s eyes hinted at a potential shift. Meanwhile, Ariel’s gaze emanated unwavering support, stoking the embers of a promising rebellion.
The final word of his argument lingered in the air, as spectators, locked in a moment of frozen anxiety, awaited the elders’ response. The outcome of this showdown was not yet known, but one thing was clear – Ren had stirred the town’s repressed feelings, his words causing ripples that would unsettle the stagnant pool of Bomont’s status quo.
Chapter 7: “The Dance Proposal”
Ren felt his heart thud against his ribcage like a wild drum as he stood before the stern faces of the town council. His palms were sweaty, yet he swallowed the knot in his throat, reminding himself of the importance of his mission. Ariel, looking radiant even under the harsh council lights, stood beside him, her hand on his back for support. They were there to propose a dance, a traditional homecoming of sorts, an event that was the antithesis of the town’s laws.
As Ren began to introduce the proposal, he could feel the council’s skeptical eyes boring into him. Yet, he stood tall, his gaze steady and passionate. “Ladies and Gentlemen, I understand your fears,” he began, his voice carrying the hint of his former city life. “I know the tragic history of this town, and I respect the reasons that led you to impose these laws.”
His words hung heavy in the room, full of respect and understanding. Yet, they held something more: a hint of rebellion, a glint of challenge. He continued to speak, laying out his proposal delicely. A dance, he said, was not only about music and rhythm, it was about expression, about liberation, about letting go of the bonds of the past.
The council members shifted in their seats, uneasy with Ren’s bold proposal. They were wary of change, especially one that challenged their fundamental beliefs. Yet, there was an undeniable force in his words, a transfixing honesty that held their attention.
Ren took a deep breath before he continued. “Bomont,” he addressed, “is a town steeped in rich tradition and unity. The loss experienced by this community is unimaginable, but to shackle ourselves with fear, it’s not fair to the lives that were lost. Our predecessors wouldn’t want us to live in their shadow, but rather to celebrate life, in their memory.”
A quiet murmur rippled through the room. Ren’s words had ignited a spark, a small flicker of agreement, perhaps. But it was Ariel’s turn to speak.
Her voice was soft, yet firm, as she spoke about her own experiences. She shared the loneliness and isolation the ban had caused her, and how it had stripped the youth of their joy and freedom of expression. Ariel’s words were heartfelt, deeply personal, and they spoke for the silent cries of the youths of Bomont.
The council members were taken aback. They looked at Ren and Ariel, these two young souls standing before them, challenging years of tradition with the courage and conviction of seasoned revolutionaries. Their proposal was perplexing, even confronting. Yet, they could not ignore the truth behind their words. The room erupted in a heated discussion, a burst of opinions, questions, doubts, and fears spilling out into the open.
Each question was addressed with patience and respect. Ren and Ariel stood their ground, their determination unwavering. As the evening drew to a close, the council members found themselves faced with a decision. Would they uphold the rules etched into the backbone of their town, or would they dare to take a step toward change?
The meeting ended on an ambiguous note, the decision hanging in the balance. Ren and Ariel exited the town hall, their hearts pounding with the uncertainty of their proposal’s fate. But they held onto hope, that they may have stirred up the waters enough to cause change.
Chapter 8: “Footloose Finale”
The grand moment had arrived, marking both an end and a beginning. The air in Bomont was crackling with an energy that the town hadn’t felt for years. People from all walks of life, young and old, gathered in the town hall, the hub of regulation and restraint now transformed into an arena of liberation. Excitement, worry, and anticipation coursed through the veins of the town. As Ren stepped into the spotlight, the whispers of the crowd quietened and all eyes were on him.
He was confident yet humble, his eyes sparkled with fervor that filled the entire room. His gaze found Ariel’s in the crowd, their shared dream was now a reality, and it was beautiful. Ariel, now radiant like never before, wore her heart in her eyes. This moment was a testament to their struggles, their bond, their rebellion, and their love. Their eyes met, and in that instant, the silent crowd was a distant reality. Their world was one filled with music and dance—two souls intertwined in a dance of destiny.
Ren crossed the room, reaching out to Ariel. Holding her hand, he led her to the dance floor. The music began to play, a soft melodious tune that gradually picked up pace, a rhythm that echoed the beating of their hearts, a tune that spoke of their journey. The song that had once been a secret shared by two rebellious hearts now filled the room, touching the hearts of everybody present. The first notes of the music filled the hall, and the crowd held their breath in anticipation.
As Ren and Ariel moved to the music, their bodies syncing in harmony, the crowd watched in awe. Their dance was not just an act but a narrative—a story of their love, their struggle against the conventional, their triumph. Every spin, every step, every leap was a wordless declaration of their rebellion and their victory. Their bodies swayed to the music, their spirits soaring high. With every move they made, the room was infected with their vitality, their youth, their freedom. The rest of the town could not resist but join in the dance, breaking free from the chains of restriction that had held them back for far too long.
The room that had been the symbol of restraints and regulations for so long was now brimming with joy, laughter, and most importantly, the rhythm of music and dance. The ban had been lifted, the words music and dance were no longer whispered secretly; they were shouted loudly, expressed freely, enjoyed openly. The town was alive in the true sense of the term, its spirit liberated.
Ren and Ariel’s dance had started a revolution. Their love had brought back an integral aspect of life to Bomont, something the town hadn’t realized it missed until it was brought back – the joy of dance! As the night drifted towards the early morning, the music became warmer, the dance calmer, yet the merriment never faded.
The transformation of Bomont wasn’t the end. It was a new beginning, a beacon of hope. As the night evolved into dawn, the town was bathed in a new light, both literally and figuratively. The town had danced and cried, they had laughed and sung. They experienced catharsis on the dance floor, they were purged of their repressed emotions.
As the night came to a close, Ren and Ariel swayed to a slow dance, their hearts pounding with love, their eyes shining with dreams. They danced their hearts out, marking a new beginning, a hope for the better. The sun began to rise, adding a new warmth to the day, symbolizing the new hope that had risen in Bomont.
Finally, as the music faded away and the dance floor cleared, Ren and Ariel stood in the middle of the hall, their arms wrapped around each other, their hearts beating as one. They looked into each other’s eyes, knowing they had brought about a change, not just in their lives, but in the life of an entire town. Their love story wasn’t just about them—it was about Bomont, its people, and the power of music and dance. The determination of two young hearts had led an entire town towards liberation; it was indeed a ‘Footloose Finale’. In the silence of the dawn, with the sun beginning to peek over the horizon, Ren held Ariel close and whispered, “I think we just made history,” to which Ariel replied with a smile, “No, we made a future.” Their laughter echoed in the hall, signifying the dawn of a new era for Bomont—one where music and dance were no longer just dreams, but a picturesque reality.
Some scenes from the movie Footloose written by A.I.
EXT. BOMONT – DAY
An old pickup truck drives into the quiet town of Bomont. Inside, a TEENAGER, REN MCCORMACK, 16, bold and full of life, stares out the window at the strange new world.
Chicago’s concrete jungle is a far cry from what lies beyond this dusty truck window – Welcome to Bomont.
Ren’s MOTHER, a worn-out but loving woman, glances at him from the driver’s seat, worry etched on her face.
I know it’s different, Ren, but it’ll be good for us. Fresh starts, remember?
Ren forces a smile, laying a comforting hand on hers.
Yeah, Mom. Fresh starts.
They pass a handpainted sign: ‘WELCOME TO BOMONT, WHERE TRADITION THRIVES.’
EXT. BOMONT TOWN HALL – DAY
The truck parks in front of an old building. A stern-looking MAN, the TOWN MAYOR, steps out to greet them. He carries an air of authority and tradition. Ren notes the lack of music or any vibrant life.
Welcome, McCormacks. We run a tight ship here in Bomont. No nonsense.
Ren’s eyes narrow suspiciously, but he nods respectfully.
INT. BOMONT HOUSE – NIGHT
Ren explores his new house. He pauses in front of a mirror, dons his headphones, and loses himself to the beat of an unheard song.
In a town where movement’s chained, the rhythm of rebellion begins to beat.
FADE OUT. TO BE CONTINUED.
INT. HIGH SCHOOL – DAY
Ren, a handsome new guy from Chicago, is sitting in a classroom. His look is out of place – a big city boy in a small town. He’s scribbling on a notepad, tapping his foot rhythmically.
Suddenly, the PRINCIPAL, an older man with a stern face, enters.
We don’t tolerate that foot-tapping in Bomont, son.
It’s music, sir. Keeps me focused.
There’s no music here, boy. We have rules.
Ren looks stunned.
EXT. HIGH SCHOOL PARKING LOT – DAY
Ren meets WILLARD, a tall, lanky country boy. He’s a little rough around the edges, but a friendly soul.
You stirred up quite a mess in there, city boy. No music, no dancing. That’s how we roll.
That can’t be right. No music? No dancing?
Willard nods affirmatively.
INT. REN’S HOUSE – NIGHT
Ren’s conversation with Willard echoes in his mind. He puts on headphones, pressing PLAY on his Walkman. Music floods his ears, and he starts to dance, his frustration flowing through his moves.
TO BE CONTINUED…
INT. BOMONT HIGH – DAY
Ren MCCORMACK, an urban outsider with a love for music, wanders through the halls, trying to blend into the drab, quiet town.
Suddenly, he spots ARIEL MOORE, a local beauty with fire in her eyes. Dressed in defiance of the town’s conservative dress code, she stands out amongst her peers.
REN walks over, intrigued.
They forgot to tell me about the best part of this town.
Ariel looks at him, taken aback.
And what part is that?
She laughs, clearly amused by his forwardness.
Chicago boy thinks he’s smooth.
In Chicago, we dance. Isn’t that what smooth people do?
Ariel’s eyes widen in surprise. In this town, the word ‘dance’ is forbidden.
All the time. You?
Ariel hesitates before answering.
They don’t allow it here.
Not even in private?
No. Especially not in private.
Well, that’s a first.
They share a look, a silent promise to challenge the status quo. This is just the beginning of their adventure.
EXT. BOMONT HIGH – DAY
Ren watches as Ariel walks away. He smiles, excitement mixed with apprehension. A rebel in a quiet town, he is ready to shake things up.
INT. REN’S HOUSE – DAY
Ren, a city boy with a glint in his eye, sits alone in his room, poring over a map of Bomont. His fingers trace a secluded spot on the outskirts.
(This’ll be perfect…)
INT. BOMONT HIGH – DAY
Ren, in the bustling school hallway, pulls Ariel aside. Ariel, with her fiery red hair and bold personality, meets his gaze.
There’s something I need to show you.
EXT. OUTSKIRTS OF BOMONT – DAY
Ren takes Ariel to the spot he found on the map, an abandoned barn, hidden away from prying eyes.
(I’m planning an underground dance…)
Ariel looks surprised but doesn’t back down.
Count me in.
INT. REN’S HOUSE – NIGHT
Ren, feeling the pressure, works on his playlists, the music a defiant war-cry against the silent town.
INT. SECRET BARN – NIGHT
Ren, Ariel and a small group of teenagers dance clandestinely, their joy tangible despite the looming threat of discovery. Ariel moves closer to Ren, their bodies swaying in sync.
Red and blue lights flash across their faces, the party-goers freeze. Ariel grabs Ren’s hand and they escape through a back door, leaving the dance floor behind.
TO BE CONTINUED…
INT. BOMONT HIGH – HISTORY CLASS – DAY
Ren, looking like a fish out of water, listens as the TEACHER speaks about the town’s history. His classmate BETSY, a shy but friendly girl, leans over.
So you’re really from Chicago?
Yeah, it’s a big change.
I can imagine. I mean, the no music or dancing thing is a real bummer, right?
It’s madness. Why is it even a thing?
Betsy hesitates, then finally speaks.
There was an accident 5 years ago…
EXT. BOMONT – NIGHT
A car filled with teenagers crashes into a tree. The police lights paint the heartbreaking scene.
After the senior prom, five of our students, all drunk – crashed their car… they… didn’t make it home.
BACK TO PRESENT:
INT. BOMONT HIGH – HISTORY CLASS – DAY
Ren looks shocked, understanding washing over him.
And… they blamed it on the dancing?
And the music.
Ren sits in silence, processing this revelation.
INT. BOMONT TOWN HALL – NIGHT
A filled room with TOWN ELDERS, CITIZENS, and a nervous REN, standing alone. ARIEL sits anxiously among the crowd.
(reading from a paper)
“Mr. McCormack, you stand here accused of organizing an unsanctioned gathering with music and dance. Do you understand what this means?”
(looking around the room)
“Yes, sir. I do.”
“And yet you plead not guilty?”
(with a determined look)
“Yes, sir. I may have organized the gathering, but… I am not guilty of a crime.”
Murmurs spread through the room. Ariel smiles, a spark in her eye.
“You see, I think the real crime here is not what I did, but the fact that a town full of people is being denied their right… the right to feel joy, to connect with others, to express themselves. And that’s what music and dance do. They are not a crime.”
The room QUIETS. A few ASSENTS can be heard amongst the whispers.
“Mr. McCormack, this law is for the safety of our children!”
“I understand. And I agree, safety is important. But isn’t it also important for our kids to know how to live, not just exist? How to express, not just conform?”
The room falls into SILENCE. Council members exchange glances.
INT. BOMONT TOWN HALL – DAY
The TOWN COUNCIL sits at a long table on a raised platform. The room is filled with TOWNSPEOPLE, some support Ren and Ariel, most do not. Ren and Ariel stand at the back of the room, watching, waiting.
(whispering to Ariel)
Are you ready?
They exchange a look and then move to the front of the room.
Members of the council…we come before you today with a proposal.
Yes…to host a dance.
Gasps and murmurs fill the room. Ren holds his ground.
Before you judge, let us explain the importance of this event…for our community…for our youth…for us…
ARIEL and REN
(looking into each other, speaking with passion)
Music and dance aren’t just about frivolity, it’s our expression, our freedom, our voice. It’s a celebration of life, not something we should fear.
The room goes silent. Ren and Ariel exchange a hopeful look.
We’ll take this under consideration…