All language subtitles for The.Shards.S01E01

In late May of 1980, May 23rd
to be exact, The Shining opened,

and I wanted to see it
as soon as possible.

I was obsessed with
Stephen King's seminal book.

And it remains one of the key novels
that made me wanna be a writer.

In fact, as soon as I was done
reading The Shining for a third time,

I began writing my own novel, which
would ultimately become Less Than Zero.

This would be the first time I drove to
Westwood to see a movie without the gang,

and I felt incredibly adult
as I raced across Mulholland

on that Saturday morning in my
father's black Mercedes 450 SL,

a two-door tank that was hardly
the sporty vehicle I longed for

as a teenager.

I remember, and I don't know why,

that I was wearing a fashionable
new Ralph Lauren shirt,

brown with a touch of white-gray stripes

and Calvin Klein jeans
with Gucci loafers.

One ticket, please.

Three dollars.

Thank you.

I sat in reverent silence and
stared at the 70-millimeter screen.

Writing this now, I can't believe I was
left to my own devices for 20 minutes,

just idly sitting there,

thinking about things, about
my friends Thom and Susan,

waiting without wanting
something to distract me

like smartphones or social media.

The lights in the theater slowly
darken, and that's when I saw the boy.

This is the reason why I've
never forgotten seeing The Shining

on May 24th, 1980, at the
theater in Westwood at 10:00 a.m.

I was off to the side
near the aisle when I saw him.

A guy so stunningly handsome I
thought at first he was a movie star

or a model from GQ magazine.

He was tall.

He was undoubtedly tan everywhere.

This boy aroused something
primal in me that I'd never felt before.

I needed to be his friend.
I had to own him.

The Warner Brothers logo headed
toward us as the opening credits began

over aerial shots of the family's
Volkswagen heading toward the Overlook.

He had to be older than me.
A UCLA student, maybe.

I watched, mesmerized, as this boy,
this god, disappeared from my sight line.

He noticed me staring and glanced away,

but not before a lingering gaze
took me in,

and I fantasized that he
was interested in me too.

After the movie was over,
I was underwhelmed.

It was nothing like the book.
I felt cheated.

I walked into the lobby hoping to
find the boy, but he wasn't anywhere.

I waited outside the theater,
but he wasn't there either.

What I didn't know then is that I
would actually meet this boy again,

and his name was Robert Mallory,

and that his arrival at my high
school and into my life would coincide

with a season of horror and
murder that would destroy us all.

"Redrum" over and over? That's
gonna haunt me for the rest of my life.

Like, "redrum"? But...

It has occurred to me when talking
about what happened to us in 1981

that one thing Kids
today have it fucking easy.

Sure, being a teenager is hard
now because you have to deal

with puberty and sexuality
and online bullying,

but our generation had it tougher
because we had to deal with serial killers.

Shadow.

Shadow.

Shadow.

The early '80s was the
golden era for serial killers.

All the legends were on hunting sprees.

The Night Stalker, the Hillside Strangler.

Shadow.

As I prepared to enter senior year...

Shadow.

I had no idea that my friends
and I would be hunted too

by perhaps the most
sadistic serial killer of them all.

Hello.

Hello.

Hello.

This is our story.

Some of us survived high school.

Some of us died.

But none of us made it out alive.

Darling.

Hello.

Who is this?

I remember it was a Sunday
afternoon before Labor Day,

and our senior year was about
to begin on that Tuesday morning

of September 8th, 1981.

And I remember
that the Westridge Stables

were located on a bluff above Malibu

where my girlfriend, Deborah Schaffer,
was boarding her new horse, Spirit.

I was driving solo following
Susan Reynolds and Thom Wright

along Pacific Coast Highway.

Everything sped up
when you got your car.

You are now autonomous
in ways you hadn't been.

You had become an adult.

This encouraged our parents
to work longer hours

or travel with less restrictions,

leaving all of us behind
in beautiful empty houses

in Bel-Air and Beverly Hills
or Benedict Canyon,

and that was okay with my friends and I.

We were the family.
We raised each other.

We would usually start our day by
meeting for lunch at Hamburger Hamlet,

where we'd crowd into the
red booths for patty melts

after buying our tickets for
the next movie at The Bruin.

Dinner was usually at the food court

with breaks at the arcade playing
Space Invaders and PAC-MAN.

Or look for new music at Tower
Records, leafing through the paperbacks

at any number of the large
bookstores that dotted the streets.

There were five or six in 1981.

That's the one.

There are none now.

I kept behind Thom's car up
the winding road of the stables

where we parked next to
Deborah's gleaming brand-new BMW.

We located Debbie
trotting Spirit by his reins.

Rock it, Debbie.

She was wearing her riding attire.

There you are.

I was aware of Spirit
being yet another example

of Debbie's carelessness and privilege.

The cost of maintaining and
housing the animal was astronomical,

but I don't think she even cared.

In a way, Debbie was an experiment.

I wasn't determined to have
a girlfriend my senior year,

except if it had been Susan Reynolds,

and yet Debbie had become
somewhat inexplicably just that.

We were at a party
at Anthony Matthews' house,

and she just started making out
with me on a chaise lit by the pool.

I was stoned on a Quaalude. She
did a bump of coke. It was midnight.

- Put it in. I'm so wet.
- What?

And I was at a point where I
still tried to be attracted to girls.

- There's people around.
- I want it. I want you, Bret.

I surprised myself and went with it.

Debbie always broke the rules.

By senior year, her hair was a
shade of platinum inspired by Blondie.

If you were in 11th or 12th grade,
makeup was minimally allowed,

but because Debbie was so rich,
she got away with murder

and wore her lipstick hot pink

or blood red, always defiant.

Look, Debbie, I'm you.

You guys, cut it out.
You're gonna spook the horses.

- Susan, please, get off his back.
- - Okay.

This is a $1 million horse from
Arabia, and you're gonna spook him

because you can't get off
Thom's back for five minutes.

You just scared all of them...

Thom Wright and Susan Reynolds

had been dating
since they were sophomores

and were now the most popular people,

not only in our class, but
in the overall student body.

It was obvious why.

Thom and Susan
were casually beautiful,

all-American, and they both
came from wealthy families.

For about two years, they were in love

until that fall of 1981,
when one of them wasn't.

Thom was always the ideal
of teen boy handsome,

and what was so alluring about
him was that he didn't seem to care.

He had an intriguing blankness
that was attractive and soothing.

He was the opposite of Susan,

school class president,
effortlessly a straight-A student.

She kind of knew I was secretly
in love with her,

and I knew everything about her.

When she got her period,
the problem with her mother,

every imaginary slight and deprivation
she thought she was enduring...

- I love you.
- her crushes on classmates before Thom.

She was to me
the most beautiful girl ever,

and to this very day, the person I think
I've loved the most in my entire life.

Have you heard from your parents?

This morning, still in France,
headed to Venice next week.

They're staying in Europe indefinitely.

My mom said that she still
thinks she wants to divorce him.

My dad said that the trip has been
good, and they weren't coming home

until their marriage was
on solid ground again.

I hope it works out for them.

Sucks having divorced parents.

I miss my dad a lot.

My God, it's my dream, all that freedom.

Who's cooking your food?
You don't cook.

Rosa makes all my meals.

Gracias.

I just write all night after she
goes home and do whatever I want.

Are you coming
to Debbie's house tonight?

It's the last party of the summer.

Labor Day always makes me blue.
It's the end of something.

But this year is the
beginning of our senior year.

We're coming. Although, God, Debbie's
dad makes me super uncomfortable.

- So goddamn gay.
- Thom!

Sorry, he is. Last time I was there,

he asked me if I wanted to take a
Jacuzzi with him in his bathroom,

not the one by the pool.

Pretended I got food poisoning and left.

Yeah, I get gay vibes from him too.

I don't think Debbie's mom
knows, if you could believe it.

She likes the house, the trips,
going to the Oscars every year.

How many does he have again? Oscars.

Two.

You know that book I'm writing?

I want him to buy it
and let me write the movie.

God, I hate coming here every weekend
just to watch her ride this dumb horse.

- Why do we do this to ourselves?
- Because we are nice people.

And this year,
we're gonna rule the school.

- Don't we already?
- Help.

There's no helping you.

I don't understand.

I just think we need to cool it for a while.

It's maybe gotten out of hand.

I agree.

Just remember, we're good friends.

Always will be.

So, what was that about with Ryan?

Nothing.

We were just talking about
how excited we were to graduate

and get the hell out of Los Angeles,

finally start our lives.

For sure, I'm going to school on
the East Coast, not even a question.

My God.

Senior year hasn't even started,
and I'm already exhausted.

- It's gonna take so much planning.
- Like what?

Well, homecoming is in October,

and I have some rad ideas
for the class float.

And then of course, Susan and Thom will
be crowned homecoming king and queen.

I don't wanna be a homecoming
queen and wear some weird tiara.

Susan, I'll throw you a party
at the Beverly Hills Hotel,

and then we're doing an after-party thing

on Dominic Thompson's
father's yacht, okay?

How much coke have you done?

A lot.

- Do you want some?
- Duh.

And I just booked Tommy Tutone

for a private party I'm throwing
at the Blue Bayou at Disneyland.

You know, like a cool grad night thing?

We've all worked so hard.

We deserve a nice time.

We deserve nice things.

Blue Bayou, the restaurant

inside the Pirates of the Caribbean ride?

Yeah.

That's awesome.

Four vodka sodas, please.

Don't forget to invite
the new guy to Disney.

What?

There's a new guy
coming in on Tuesday.

A new addition to our senior class.

That's strange. You never
get a new kid senior year.

- What's his name?
- Robert something.

Robert Mallory.

How do you know this?

Well, I was having a meeting
with Principal Croft

about my student body presidential
duties this year, and he told me.

He lives in Century City with his
aunt or stepmother or something.

- Well, that's weird.
- What's weird about it?

If he lives in Century City,

he would have been eligible
to attend Beverly Hills High.

Why opt for our school? Why
drive all the way to our school?

Well, he better be cute.

Like you.

Meet me in my bedroom in ten?

I'm so horny.

What did you mean when you said

you didn't want to be
homecoming king and queen?

- God, Thom, it's so corny.
- Yeah, but, Susan, honey,

this is what we've been
waiting for for four fucking years.

This is the coronation.
Everybody wants this.

Okay. For you, I'll think about it.

That night in September

was one of the last nights
where there was no fear.

You have to watch The Godfather,
Chinatown, and The Story of O.

- You ever heard of The Story of O?
- - I have...

Bret.

- Hi, Mr. Schaffer.
- Call me Terry, buddy.

Sit down. There's something
I wanted to talk to you about.

You guys go off, watch your
movies, tell me the details.

I wanna know your favorite.

Okay.

So... Debbie tells me you're a
writer, or you want to be one?

Yes. Yeah, I'm-I'm writing a novel.

Amazing.

Maybe you and I should go talk
about that at lunch or something.

I'm always looking for new young voices.

Our business needs that.

The movies need that.

I've always had my eye on you, Bret.

Steven!

Steven, what the...
What in the fuck are you doing?

Debbie asked me
to take pictures of her guests.

She wants to make a scrapbook.

You know Debbie.

Bret and I are going to go
to lunch, talk about his future.

Will you put it down on the
schedule, okay? Le Dome.

Sure thing.

Yep, yep.

Thanks, Mr. Schaffer...

Terry.

Where is my husband?

Hi, Mrs. Schaffer.

I asked you a question.

Where is my husband?
Have you seen him?

Yes, he's-he's down by the pool.

Who was my husband with?

- I don't know.
- You don't know?

Was he in the bushes,
sucking some young guy's dick?

Or did he proposition you?

Liz, have you been hitting
the wine coolers again?

You seem very tired. Let's put you to bed.

You can go, Bret.

Okay.

Good night, Mrs. Schaffer.

Wait. Why? You're not
staying for the movie?

I've already seen it.

Don't you walk away from me,
you little asshole.

Where are you going?
You gonna meet him upstairs?

I've known you
since you were ten years old.

- Don't you dare walk away from me!
- Liz, enough.

I'm putting you to bed now.
You can take your night-night pills.

Hello?

Your mom is a psycho.

Ignore her. I do.

Are you staying for the movie?

No, I've already seen Continental Divide.

I wanna get home, do some
writing. Unless you had another idea.

I thought you'd never ask.

Wow. Babe.

You got muscular this summer.

You know, push-ups, swimming.

I get a full striptease.

Debbie always came fast.

Within minutes,
she could thrash out an orgasm.

Don't tease me.

It took barely anything
to make her come,

and this was happening now.

You have to remember, being
gender fluid was not something

that was allowed back then.

You had to be two people,
which was fucking exhausting,

and you had to compartmentalize.

My relationship with Debbie
was my public persona,

and my relationship with Matt
Kellner was my secret, forbidden one.

Did you hear there's a new kid
starting school? Isn't that weird?

Why is that weird? Who cares?

It's just weird if someone
enrolls in senior year.

Whatever.

That's all you ever say, about anything.

"Whatever."

You smoke too much pot, Matt.

You're officially the class
stoner. Did you know that?

Whatever.

Why don't you socialize, Mattie?

Why didn't you come
to Debbie's party tonight?

Well, I told you.
I just wanted to, you know,

hang here and listen to the new
Elvis Costello album.

And get high, Matt. So tedious.

You're so smart,
but you don't let anybody in.

Well, we're friends, right?

Only when I drive over and
we fool around in the shadows.

You have lost potential, Matt.

I'm worried about you.

I'm the most real person in that school.

And you know it.

I think we should stop this.

Stop what?

This.

You don't need to say that.

Well, I wouldn't want you
to think that I don't care.

No, I don't think anything.

I don't think anything.

What happened to the aquarium?

I don't know.

You don't know why
your aquarium is empty?

No, I came back the other day
and noticed all the fish were gone.

- What are you looking for?
- My bong.

And here it is.

All right.

What happened to the water?

I don't know. My mom
usually takes care of it.

Do you think maybe the cat got them?

You think Alex ate all my fish?

I don't know.

Maybe we'll never know.

Why?

Well, the cat's missing too.

Not this time. Yeah. What about
last week? What about last week?

Last week... Last week,
I wasn't feeling okay.

Okay. It's always an excuse, dude.

- Okay.
- Hey, check it out.

Gracias.

It's gonna be a warm one for
the next week, I'm betting two.

You'll see here we have a high of 82,

and the Santa Anas are at least
letting us cool down to 71 at night.

Now, back to Jessica
for the morning report.

Some disturbing news
this morning in the Southland.

The body of a teenage girl
was found yesterday morning

on a tennis court in Woodland Hills.

The body and identity of the young
woman have not been released,

and police refused to comment
pending an investigation into the homicide.

Viewers will remember that,
last summer,

the body of a missing girl,
Katherine Latchford,

was found in a dumpster in Redlands.

That case remains unsolved, and
police decline to comment at this time

whether the abductions
and murders are related.

What's wrong?

Did you see the mascot statue,
what someone did to it?

Yes, I talked to the principal about it.

It's just some stupid prank by
a kid at Harvard or something.

Klonopin?

Sure.

- Babe, what'd you get?
- Croissant and ham.

I just wanna smell it, honestly.

You can have one.

Why does my stupid mother
always pack me pâté for lunch?

I just call it "pad Thai."

She knows I'm dieting.
She's trying to sabotage me.

Pâté is not on the Beverly Hills Diet.

- Want it?
- I do.

- Sure.
- Thom, you don't want that.

- You look great.
- - We can't always get what we want.

I am not eating any more fat
for six weeks straight.

It just gets more round
if you continue to eat fat.

You're gonna pass out.

To try and more angularize
the side profile.

Of your boobs?

Can I smell a chip?

You can take one.

I just wanna smell it.

She thinks that this works.

Have you noticed
that ever since I cut fat,

my tits from the side are more angular?

- Look.
- Yes.

You should know
I smelled him before I saw him.

It was cedar and sandalwood,

as if he had just walked
through a forest of citrus.

Did you get a designer capsule?

- Hi. You must be Robert Mallory.
- You must be Susan.

- Principal Croft showed me your picture.
- The one on his desk...

From the yearbook.

I was just in Principal Croft's office.

He told me I should come say hi.

So, hi.

He wore black leather pants

like a second skin with his school blazer.

I was rendered speechless. I
couldn't believe it. It was him.

The magical, mystical boy I saw
at The Shining a year ago.

Hi. Bret.

Nice to meet you, Bret.

- You wanna join us?
- I'd love to.

Come on.

So, Robert, where do you come from?

- So, I'm-I'm from Chicago originally.
- Okay.

Robert laid out his background for us

as if it were a job interview
he needed to pass.

The last time he'd been in LA for
any sustained length of time was

ten months ago when he came out for
the holidays and stayed with his aunt.

Wait. So, why are you living
with your aunt now?

Okay. It's a funny story,

but I got kicked out of my
previous school that I was at.

Funny and smooth.

His parents were divorced. His
mother had then died in a tragic accident.

His father wanted to send him
to a military academy,

but his aunt intervened, suggesting Robert
relocate to Los Angeles and live with her,

and she would enroll him somewhere
for his last year of high school.

Have we met before? At The
Whiskey or The Odyssey or something?

I'm not much of a club guy.

I never forget a face.

I don't really know anyone
in LA. I don't go out much.

Did you not bring lunch?

I forgot. I guess first day jitters, right?

Do you... Do you want half?

On one level, Robert was
intriguing enough to make me forget

- about the griffin streaked with gore.
- Sure, thank you.

He was one of the most
charming people I'd ever met.

The other thing I gleaned was
that he was a complete and utter liar.

I know where I saw you.

Last summer, did you see The Shining

at the Village Theatre
when it first came out?

No.

Are you sure?
I'm positive I saw you there.

- Really?
- Positive.

Really? You're positive?

Why would you remember me there?

Did I say something to you or...

No, no, you just left an impression.

I haven't seen that movie.

Well, I'm almost positive I saw you.

In the theater. On a Saturday.

It wasn't me.

Weird.

Very weird.

- That was wacky.
- Saved by the bell.

- Nice to meet you.
- Nice to meet you all.

Bye, babe.

Have you guys heard of the water ride?

It was nice to meet you, Bret.

You too.

- Good afternoon.
- Good afternoon!

Let's start the first assembly of the year

by welcoming Senior President
Susan Reynolds.

Susan.

Stop, stop. Thank you.

Whoo!

Hello, Griffins!

I'm so proud of this girl.

And hello to my fellow senior class.

First of all, I just want
to say thank you to everyone

who voted for me as your
student body class president.

We have a very exciting year
ahead of us.

Don't forget our Thanksgiving fundraiser

following the last football
game before the holiday.

Let's support our varsity team.

Yeah. I know.

It became clear to me
after our second introduction

that Robert Mallory was like a virus.

A new kind of insidious, invading agent

who was here to destroy the very cellular
structure of my friends, my school and me.

He was up to something. And it was up
to me to find out exactly what that was.

Shit.

Shit.

Fuck you.

Fuck you!

Fuck you! Fuck you!
Fuck you! Fuck you!

Hey.

Hey.

That was you, right? Following me?

I wasn't following you.

I was heading to the Galleria, and I
happened to be behind you, I guess.

You were in the Porsche?

Yeah, that was me.
I was just fucking with you.

I don't like being followed.

Yeah? You don't like being followed?

Yeah. Freaks me out.

What are you doing here
at the mall today?

Shopping for some school clothes.

What brings you to the Galleria
on this Tuesday afternoon?

There's a lot of hot girls.

I was gonna see a movie,
but I realized I've seen them all.

Which one? The Shining?

You sure you weren't there?
I know I saw you.

Dude, you gotta let it go. It wasn't me.

Pretty sure I saw you, dude.

I haven't seen that movie.

What were you talking
to Matt Kellner about today?

Yeah? You saw that? You guys friends?

Is that innuendo?

He seems like a very confused guy.

You know, the kind of guy
who could use a friend.

What? He's just very laid-back,
very easygoing. He's a pothead.

Interesting.

Is Thom Susan Reynolds's boyfriend?

Yeah.

How long have they been seeing each
other? How long have they been dating?

About two years.

- So, it's serious.
- Very. Why are you asking me this?

Because she's hot. She's quite
the little honey, don't you think?

At that point, I couldn't breathe.

At that point,
I needed to get away from him.

Hey, Bret.

Yeah?

I've just figured something out about you.

What have you figured out about me?

When you talk to me, you're
really talking to yourself, dude.

After the upsetting car chase

with Robert Mallory on that sweltering
and fateful September afternoon,

I remember I went home
and popped on the local news.

Investigation of a Valley Village girl

found brutally murdered earlier today.

What I learned that day
made my blood run cold.

The city had become paralyzed with fear.

Might link to the murders of
at least two other young women.

Questioned about the
suspect's identity, investigators...

Margo Tyler had been missing
since June of that year

and her body was found
behind a local Tower Records.

She was his third victim.
There would be countless more.

The serial killer hunting young people

was nicknamed by investigating
officers as The Trawler.

Suddenly, the epidemic
of missing pets made sense.

He would use them in a satanic way.

He trawled for victims effortlessly,
like a fisherman casting a wide net.

Thus, the catchy nickname.

We'll continue to bring you
more as it comes in.

Thanks, Jeff. At the moment,
things continue...

My God. No.

Hello?

God.

Hello?

Help me.

Help me. Please, help me.

Hello?

Please, help me.

My God. No, no.

- Hello?
- Help! Help!