All language subtitles for The Shards s01e01 Pilot.n

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 want to 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

game, 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 it
seemed.

I remember, and I don't know why, that I
was wearing a fashionable new Ralph

Lauren shirt, brown with a touch of
white grey stripes and Calvin Klein

jeans with goofy loafer.

One second, please.

Thank you.

I sat in reverent silence and stared at
the 70mm 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, Tom and Susan,

waiting without wanting something to
distract me, like smartphones or social

media.

The lights in the theater slowly
darkened.

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 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 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 sightline.

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.

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

thing is evident.

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.

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.

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
Schaefer, was boarding her new horse,

Spirit.

I was driving solo, following Susan
Reynolds and Tom Wright along Pacific

Coast Highway.

Everything sped up when you got your car
at 16th and Los Angeles.

You were now autonomous in ways you
hadn't been. You could take care of

yourself.

You'd become an adult.

This encouraged our parents to work
longer hours or travel with less

restriction, 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,
leaping through the paperbacks at any

number of the large bookstores that
dotted the streets.

There were five or six in 1981.

There are none now.

I kept behind Tom's car up the winding
road at the stables, where we parked

next to Deborah's gleaming brand new
BMW.

We located Debbie trotting Spirit by his
ring. He was wearing her riding attire.

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 Matthew's
house and she just started making out

with me on a shave lit by a pool.

I was stoned on a quaalude. She did a
bump of coke.

It was midnight.

Put it in.

I'm stoned.

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.

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 defying.

Seriously. Cut it out.

Look,

Debbie, I'm you. You guys, cut it out.
You're going to spook the horses.

Susan, please get off his back. Okay.
This is a $1 million horse from Arabia,

and you're going to spook him because
you can't get off Tom's back for five

minutes.

Tom 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.

Tom 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.

Tom 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 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.

Her crushes on classmates before Tom.

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, Bill and Fran 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. They weren't
coming home until their marriage went on

the solid ground, I guess.

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 memes. Did I say?

I just ride all night after she goes
home.

Do whatever I want.

Are you coming to Debbie's house
tonight? The last party of the summer.

Labor Day always makes me blue.

It's the end of something.

Oh, 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.

Tom. 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.

Pretending 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 trip, 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. 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 going to rule the
school.

Don't we already?

I don't understand.

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

Maybe gotten out of hand.

I agree.

Just remember we're good friends.

Always will be.

So what was that about? Science?

Nothing.

We were just talking about how excited
we were to graduate and get the hell out

of Los Angeles.

Finally started a lot.

For sure, I'm going to school on the
East Coast.

Not even a question.

Oh, my God.

In your resume.

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 past load and

then of course susan and tom will be
crowned homecoming king and queen well i

don't want to be homecoming queen and
wear some weird tiara there's an

authorial party at the beverly hills
hotel and then we're doing an after

party thing on dominic thompson's
poppers yacht okay how much coke have

you done oh my do you want some duh

We've all worked so hard. We deserve a
nice

time. We deserve nice things.

Blue Bayou, the restaurant inside the
parts of the Caribbean, right?

Yeah.

That's awesome.

Four vodka sodas, please.

Oh, 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 great.

You never get a new kid's senior year.

What's his name?

Um, Robert something.

Oh, 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 lived in
Century City, he would have been

eligible to attend Beverly Hills Hot.

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

Well, you better be cute.

Like you.

When we eat in my bedroom in town, I'm
so horny.

What did you mean when you said you
didn't want to be homecoming king and

queen? Oh, God, Tom, it's so corny. Hey,
this Tuesday night, this is what we've

been waiting for for four fucking years.
It's 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.

And the story of O.

You ever heard the story of O?

Brad.

Hi, Mr. Schaefer.

You 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 want to know your favorite.

So.

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

Yes. Yeah, 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, Brett.

Stephen.

Stephen, what?

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.

Brett and I are going to go to lunch,
talk about his future. We put it down on

the schedule, okay?

Lidl. Sure thing.

Yep, yep.

Thanks, Mr. Schaefer.

Oh.

Hi, Mrs. Schaefer.

I asked you a question.

Where is my husband? Have you seen him?

Yes, 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, Brent.

Okay.

Good night, Mrs. Schaefer.

Wait, what? 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? Are you going to
meet him upstairs?

I've known you since you were ten years
old. Don't you dare walk away from me!

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

Your mom is a psycho.

Ignore her.

I do.

Are you staying for the movie?

No. I've already seen Continental
Divide.

I want to get home, do some writing.

Unless you had another idea.

I thought you never asked.

You got muscular this summer.

Oh, you know, push-ups. That's what I
mean.

Oh, I get a full stretch here.

Debbie

always

came fast.

Within minutes, she could thrash out an
organ.

Don't be a fool. 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.

It's not too much pot, Matt. You're
officially the class donor, did you know

that?

Whatever. Why don't you socialize,
Matty?

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.

It's so tedious.

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

Oh.

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.

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.

I don't think anything.

I don't think anything.

What happened to the aquarium?

Uh, 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?

A bug.

And here it is.

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? Oh, last
week I wasn't feeling good.

So is the next week.

Good afternoon.

Good

afternoon.

The identity of the young woman has not
been released, and police refused to

comment pending an investigation into
the homicide.

Viewers will remember that last summer,
the body of missing girl Catherine

Latchford was found in a dumpster in
Redlands.

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

the abductions and murders are related.

What's wrong?

Did you see the math class that she was
from on Britswood? Yes, I talked to the

principal about it. It's just some
stupid prank by a kid at Harvard or

something. Want a pint?

Sure.

Oh, my God.

Hey, what'd you get?

A song for Pam.

Why does my... Stupid mother always
packed me pate for lunch. I always call

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

Pate is not on the Beverly Hills diet.
You want it?

Sure. No, Tom, you don't want that.
These are great.

Well, we can always get what we want.

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

It gets more round if you continue to
eat fat. You're going to pass out. Try

and more angularize the side profile of
your boo.

Can I smell a chip?

You can taste one.

I just want to smell it.

She thinks that this works.

Have you noticed that ever since I cut
fat, my tits from the side are more

angular? You should know.

I smelled them before I thought.

It was theater and sandalwood.

As if you had just walked through a
forest of fitra.

You must be Robert Mallory. You must be
Susan.

Principal Cross showed me your picture.
The one on his desk.

From the yearbook.

I was just in Principal Cross' 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 speechless.

I couldn't believe it. It was him. The
magical, mystical boy I saw at the

Shining a year ago.

Hi.

Brett.

Nice to meet you, Brett.

You want to join us? I'd love to.

So, Robert, where do you come from?

Oh, I'm from Chicago, originally.

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 L.A.
for any sustained length of time was ten

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

so why are you living with your aunt
now?

Funny story, but I got kicked out of my
previous school when I was back. 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.

Oh, I never forget a thing.

i don't really know anyone in la i don't
go out much did you not bring lunch

i forgot

first day jitters right do you want half
on one level robert was intriguing

enough to make me forget about the great
streets with gore 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 oh 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?

No. No. You just left an impression.

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 hmm

saved by the bell

I have to meet your brat.

You too.

Good afternoon.

Let's start the first assembly of the
year by welcoming Senior President Susan

Reynolds.

voted for me as your student body class
president.

We have a very exciting year ahead of
us. Don't forget our Thanksgiving

fundraisers following the last football
game before the holiday.

Let's support our varsity team.

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.

Don't you ever think about the cops
again.

That's the kind of stuff the world's
made out of.

That's the kind of stuff the world's
made out of.

Get up!

Bad boys get back!

Bad boys get back!

Don't be a punk on your own.

Say yes, ma

'am.

Say no, ma'am.

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 porch.

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 gallery on this
Tuesday afternoon?

There's a lot of hot girls.

I was going to 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?

Oh, yeah? You saw that?

You guys friends?

Is that innuendo?

He seems like a very confused guy.

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

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

Interesting.

Is Tom Susan Reynolds' boyfriend?

Um, yeah.

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

About two years.

So 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

it. Hey, Brett.

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.

What I learned that day made my blood
run cold.

The city had become paralyzed with fear.

Margot Tyler had been missing since June
of that year.

and her body was found behind a local
tower record.

She was the 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
trawls for victims effortlessly, like a

fisherman casting a wide net.

That's the catchy nickname.

Hello? Hello?

Elevate.

Once you're dead.

Sun and trees and sex have gone straight
to my head.

It feels like Hollywood wants my neck.

A noose is a girl in a school with a
brand new set.

This town may be yours, but baby, it's
mine too.

I want to go shopping.

Feels like L.A.

wants me dead.