The Last night

She kissed him goodbye, knowing he wouldn’t remember her tomorrow.

Early that day…….

“Get up you clown, we’ve got to go, we’re going to be late.”

Dustin just rolled over on the sofa, ignoring Wes.

Dustin didn’t move, he was from Barbados and had his own ideas on what was urgent.

“I’ve got rum.”

Dustin’s body jolted like a rusty engine attempting to turn over.

“I’ve got cigarettes, booze, and the lads are meeting us in the pub in one hour. I can make some cheese toasties.”

There was a noise coming from the sofa and he whispered, “Rum………. you got ice?”

As Wes walked back into the dark, stale stinky living room, the tall, slender frame of Dustin was sat up looking at Wes as his toxic fuel was brought to him. The two sat back and tried to remember the night before.

The night before was a blur, there were flashbacks of memories which was coming through like a scratched CD, skipping as the sound breaks through.

The boys eventually got to the pub and met with Jay, Chris, Tony and Gaz. Everyone was already four to five drinks in. The pub was getting busy with young people full of narcotics and anticipation, the lads moved to the pool table and were having a few games. They had decided to go to the new club, it looked expensive, but they wanted to give it a try. The club was called Monroe’s, it was on three floors and had a search light outside pointing to the moody looking sky.

Once in, everyone headed to the bar. They would always bump into people they knew or recognised. The music was loud; the bass was travelling through their bodies; it was like being put into a blender where the alcohol and blood could mix to full effect.

As the night went on, the group began to thin out as some would mingle with new and old friends. The three floors would be investigated and checked out. The alcohol was slowing down their brains; conversations were beginning to flow in a repetitive bundled manner and slurring became the new language.

Their empty, alcohol filled stomachs were beginning to rumble, so they decided to find the nearest kebab shop. They all staggered out of the club, wishing the muscle headed bouncers a safe night, tummies full of hope and noses sniffing out the greasy sliced doner meat.

Within five minutes they heard police siren’s, and three young men ran past them and screamed, “Run!”

The boys didn’t know what was happening, they panicked and due to their sozzled brains, they automatically ran. The initial reaction was that something bad was chasing them and their hearts were racing. Suddenly two police cars came speeding up behind them, blues and twos were on, but the boys weren’t hanging about, they saw an alleyway and sprinted down it. There were twists and turns, they were jumping over rubbish bags, checking over their shoulders but when they realised that they had escaped, they stopped to catch their breath.

They eventually found “The Best” a fast-food joint, a name they thought was presumptuous. It set extremely high standards that the lads didn’t believe the Kurdish cooks would be able to live up to.

“Alright mate. Small doner and chips please.”

“Hey boss, do you want salad and chilli sauce with that?”

“Yes mate, pile it on. I’m as hungry as a hippo.”

The kebabs were devoured and Chris claimed that “this is the best kebab shop in the world. I bloody love this place.”

As they were getting ready to leave another group of lads came into the The Best. Wes recognised a few of them and they started to talk. Neil told Wes that they were off to a local house party. Wes told his friends, and they were up for extending the night, why not?

There were now eleven of them walking, jumping, and dancing down the road, all full up with kebab and chips and a few of them struggling to walk in a straight line due to the amount of booze they had consumed. They didn’t want to turn up to the party empty handed and the shops were all closed, so they used their imagination. Neil grabbed a traffic cone, Gaz found a hubcap, Tony disappeared and came back with a for sale sign, the rest were looking for anything and between them came up with a random shoe, some police tape, and a bathroom cabinet found in a skip. They were all extremely pleased with themselves and were convinced the unknown hosts were going to love their offerings.

They eventually got to the party; it was in a semi-detached house down a cul-de-sac. The host, called Sara was dancing away with friends and welcomed the group. She was home alone as her parents had gone to Spain. Sara was rebelling due to her religious upbringing. The lads treated her like a princess, she sat down and was presented with each present from the drunk boys, as each gift became more bizarre, the party goers were in hysterics. Luckily there were plenty of beers available, so they helped themselves and chatted and danced around the fire until dawn, whilst the rest of the city slept.

At one point Dustin had disappeared, so everyone was searching for him, nobody could find him until he shouted down for the top of the tree at the bottom of the garden. He thought he would get an exciting view of the party and got stuck. The boys at the bottom of the tree decided to help by pushing the tree back and forth, making the top of the tree sway side to side. Dustin politely asked the group to stop but they declined. He eventually fell (he claims he jumped), luckily the shed roof broke his fall. Unfortunately for Wes, a broken branch came hurtling down and struck him on the forehead and cut him. Sara took great pleasure wrapping an oversized bandage around his head, Wes resembled an Egyptian mummy.

They had laughed all night, a few of the lads had fallen in love, and they told everyone they were going to spend the rest of their lives with them, they just needed to remember their names. Chris spent some time with Sara, they really got on, he was the only one that didn’t leave that morning. Chris was drunk but a nice drunk. She kissed him goodbye, knowing he wouldn’t remember tomorrow. She’d fallen in love, she’d met a soul mate.

The others all began hugging each other goodbye and a few taxis came to pick them up around 6am. It was the best night of their lives; they couldn’t wait for the next one.

Unfortunately, there never was another one. University was over and everyone had their own plans.

It was the end.

Some of the boys stayed in touch but as they got older, their life and priorities changed, they never met up as a group again. The last time Wes, Gaz and Neil met up was at Chris and Sara’s wedding. Gaz was now a father and Neil was an Estate Agent.

Wes took the change the hardest. He loved that life and wanted it back, but he wasn’t an idiot, he knew the moment had left them.

Losing the lifestyle was worse than any breakup he’d ever experienced, but he said to himself as he looked through some old photographs, “That was some night.” He nodded to his wife and walked into his daughter’s bedroom to read her a bedtime story. Wes caught a glimpse of himself in her bedroom mirror, the scar was still visible on his forehead from Dustin’s fall, a lasting souvenir from the greatest night in history.

The End.

THE LAST NIGHT

Screenplay

Written by Kevin Gargini

FADE IN:

INT. SMALL FLAT – LIVING ROOM – MORNING

Dark, messy, air thick with stale smoke and beer cans. DUSTIN (21, tall, laid back, Caribbean drawl) lies sprawled across a sofa. WES (22, sharp but rough around the edges) bursts in, half-dressed, frantic.

WES

Get up, you clown! We’re gonna be late!

Dustin groans, turns over.

DUSTIN

Late for what, man? Sun’s still sleeping.

WES

I’ve got rum.

Dustin twitches — the dead awaken.

DUSTIN

Rum?

(pauses)

You got ice?

Wes smirks, heading to the kitchen.

WES

Rum, ice, toasties, and the lads are at the pub in an hour.

Get your arse up.

Dustin slowly sits up, rubbing his face. The two clink glasses — morning hair of the dog.

INT. FLAT – LATER

They sit among beer cans, laughing, half-remembering the previous night.

DUSTIN

Was that you dancing on the bar or me?

WES

You. Definitely you. I was the one telling you to get down.

(beat)

Pretty sure we got banned.

DUSTIN

Again?

They burst out laughing.

EXT. PUB – NIGHT

Neon lights glow. The pub is alive with people. WES and DUSTIN enter to cheers from JAY, CHRIS, TONY, and GAZ — all loud, drunk, mid-20s chaos.

JAY

About time! You two miss happy hour?

WES

Nah, we’re just fashionably unemployed.

Everyone laughs. Pool cues crack, beer flows. The night begins.

INT. PUB – LATER

The music thumps, the group lean on each other, laughing too hard at nothing. Shots line the table.

TONY

Right, new club tonight. Monroe’s. Three floors. Proper classy.

DUSTIN

Classy? You?

I’ve seen you eat kebab meat out the bin.

TONY

That was once.

They all laugh and cheer. Cut to:

EXT. MONROE’S NIGHTCLUB – NIGHT

A beam of light cuts the sky. Crowds queue, dressed to kill. The lads push in, loud and chaotic.

MONTAGE – INSIDE MONROE’S:

• Pints sloshing.
• Strobe lights and sweat.
• Bass vibrating through the floor.
• The boys singing, shouting, spilling drinks.
• Wes and Dustin dancing terribly.

NARRATOR (V.O.)

It was like being put in a blender — blood, booze, bass — all mixed into one beautiful mess.

EXT. STREET – NIGHT

The group stumbles out of Monroe’s, laughing, shouting.

GAZ

Food. I need meat. Grease. Kebab.

TONY

Follow your nose, my brother.

Sirens wail behind them. Three YOUNG MEN sprint past.

YOUNG MAN

Run!

Instinct kicks in — the lads scatter.

EXT. ALLEYWAY – CONTINUOUS

Chaos. Feet pounding. Laughter. Fear. They leap over rubbish bags, duck around corners.

They finally stop, gasping for air.

CHRIS

What… what just happened?

WES

No idea.

(grinning)

But that was brilliant.

EXT. “THE BEST” KEBAB SHOP – NIGHT

A neon sign flickers: “THE BEST.”

GAZ

Bit cocky, innit?

They order kebabs, grease dripping down their hands.

CHRIS

Best kebab shop in the world. I bloody love this place.

They all cheer with mouthfuls of food.

EXT. STREET – LATER

A group of LADS approaches — NEIL among them.

NEIL

Wes! You lot coming to a house party? Just down the road. Sara’s place.

WES

We bringing anything?

NEIL

Doubt she’ll care.

GAZ

We can’t turn up empty-handed!

Cue montage:

MONTAGE – “GIFT SHOPPING”

• Neil steals a traffic cone.
• Gaz finds a hubcap.
• Tony grabs a “For Sale” sign.
• Wes pulls police tape from a lamppost.
• Dustin drags a broken bathroom cabinet.

They parade down the street like idiots, singing, laughing.

INT. HOUSE PARTY – NIGHT

The party is in full swing. Lights flashing, music thumping. SARA (20s, rebellious, radiant) dances at the center.

The lads present their “gifts.” One by one: traffic cone, hubcap, shoe, for sale sign.

Sara bursts out laughing.

SARA

Best presents ever.

Cheers. The night rolls on — beer, music, dancing around the fire pit in the garden.

EXT. BACK GARDEN – LATER

People dance under the early dawn light. Dustin is missing.

WES

Where’s Dustin?

They look around. A shout comes from above.

DUSTIN (O.S.)

Up here!

They look up — he’s in a tree.

DUSTIN

I wanted a better view!

The lads start rocking the trunk.

DUSTIN

Oi! Stop it, man—!

He slips — CRASHES onto the shed roof.

WES

(laughing)

He flew like a bird!

A branch falls, smacking Wes in the forehead. Blood drips.

SARA

You idiot! Hold still.

She wraps an oversized bandage around his head. He looks ridiculous.

TONY

You look like Tutankhamun, mate.

Everyone laughs.

MONTAGE – DAWN

• Lads lying on the grass.
• Couples kissing.
• Laughter echoing.
• Music fading as the sky lightens.

NARRATOR (V.O.)

They laughed all night. Some fell in love.

Some promised forever.

None remembered much after.

One by one, taxis arrive. Hugs. Goodbyes.

WES (V.O.)

It was the best night of our lives.

We thought there’d be hundreds more.

But there wasn’t.

INT. WES’S HOUSE – YEARS LATER – NIGHT

Older Wes (30s), sits at a desk, leafing through old photos — the boys, young and wild.

NARRATOR (V.O.)

University ended.

Everyone grew up.

Chris married Sara.

Gaz had kids.

Neil sold houses.

And me… I just missed it all.

He smiles faintly at a photo of him and Dustin, arms around each other.

From the next room — his DAUGHTER (5) calls out.

DAUGHTER (O.S.)

Daddy! Story time!

WES

Coming, sweetheart.

He stands, catches his reflection in the mirror — the faint scar still on his forehead.

He touches it, smiling softly.

WES (V.O.)

That was some night.

FADE OUT.

THE END

🎬 

Production Notes

• Genre: Coming-of-age / nostalgic dramedy
• Runtime: 12–15 minutes
• Tone: Humorous, heartfelt, bittersweet.
• Music cues: Indie rock / lo-fi nostalgic beats
• Themes: Friendship, fleeting youth, time passing