The Smolder Protocol - Episode 6: "The Silent Truth"
What we don’t say still leaves a mark.
The team’s back on mission—but something’s shifted. After the fallout of emotional exposure, tension simmers under every move. Unspoken truths hang heavier than any enemy, and silence isn’t safety—it’s strategy. Now, vulnerability becomes a liability, and trust is earned the hard way.
One team member is starting to fracture.
Another is watching too closely.
And one? He’s not saying anything—because he knows if he does, everything will break.
INT. GROUP ROOM – MORNING
THEO stands by the whiteboard, marker cap between his teeth,
already halfway through writing the day's theme in bold strokes:
“NO-HEAT WEEK”
(underlined twice, aggressively)
Everyone's gathered, though only half are alert. DEESHAWN sprawled backward in a folding chair. JULES arms crossed. BENJI doing calf stretches like this might become physical. MARTY is leaning against the back wall, hoodie up, eyes half-lidded like he hasn’t slept.
THEO
One week. No smolder. No flirtation. No performance.
Just connection.
He clicks the marker cap shut. Turns to face them.
THEO (CONT)
You want real confidence? Try showing up unarmed.
A pause. The group processes.
DESHAWN
So what are we doing, then? A book club?
THEO
Talking. Listening. Saying what we actually mean.
JULES
Sounds like hell.
MARTY (blinking, late to catch up)
Sounds like growth.
BENJI
Sounds like someone’s afraid we’re getting too good at being hot.
Muted laughs ripple. CAMILA watches from the corner, silent, taking mental notes.
KYLE
Wait, does this mean no eye contact or, like, extra eye contact?
THEO
It means you stop performing and start participating.
JULES (muttering)
I don’t perform. I deflect with style.
CAMILA (quietly, but firm)
Then this week’s for you.
A longer silence. Everyone looks around like maybe someone else will revolt first.
THEO
We’re calling it “The Silent Truth.” Because most of you are fluent in the loud one.
He picks up the marker again and adds below the title:
“Show up. Stay in. Say it plain.”
The Smolder Protocol
Episode 6: “The Silent Truth”
INT. CAFE – DAY
The midday rush hums around them. Students come and go, laptops open, cups half-drained. DEESHAWN and KAYLA sit by the window. No crowd to hide in.
No headphones to retreat behind.
Kayla stirs her tea absently. DeShawn fidgets with a sugar packet but doesn’t open it.
The silence is thicker than usual.
KAYLA
You seem different.
DeShawn exhales through his nose, not quite a laugh.
DESHAWN
Trying something new. No jokes. No show. Just… me.
He looks up. Braver than he feels.
DESHAWN (CONT)
It’s harder than it looks.
KAYLA
You’re doing fine.
Beat.
DESHAWN
I keep thinking I need to say something impressive, or funny, or smooth.
But none of that feels real today. What feels real is... I keep checking if you're still here.
Like if I look away too long, I’ll lose the chance.
Kayla sets down her spoon. Meets his eyes.
KAYLA
You didn’t lose anything. You showed up.
That lands harder than he expects. He nods. Quiet now. No tagline. No wink. Just present.
INT. ART STUDIO – LATER
The studio smells like graphite and turpentine. Light pools over open sketchbooks. REESE sits on a stool, sketching in slow, careful strokes. JULES paces, then stops, then sits across from her, hands folded tight, like they might betray him.
He watches her draw. A minute passes. Maybe two.
JULES
No jokes this week. No deflection. Just saying it straight.
Reese doesn’t look up, but her pencil slows.
REESE
You’re trying to tell me something?
Jules swallows. This is the hard part. The staying in it.
JULES (quiet)
Yeah. I like you. Not casually. Not performatively. You terrify me.
And I want this to be real. Even if I have no idea how to do that.
Her pencil stops. She finally meets his gaze. A long beat.
REESE
That’s the best thing you’ve ever said.
Jules lets out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding.
She leans forward and closes the sketchbook - hers, not his. A signal. A pause. A promise.
INT. ADMINISTRATION CONFERENCE ROOM – DAY
A sterile, too-bright room with framed campus photos and water bottles no one touches.
A long table. THEO, CAMILA, JULES, DESHAWN, and MARTY sit on one side
each in varying degrees of discomfort. A DEAN and two student affairs reps sit opposite, legal pads at the ready.
A monitor shows MARK, Zoomed in, seated in his dorm.
His camera’s angled too high, like he didn’t want to be here but came anyway.
DEAN
Let me be clear. This is not a disciplinary hearing. Not yet.
But this program is under formal review.
Papers shuffle. Eyes don’t.
DEAN (CONT)
Ongoing controversy. Recent viral incidents. Anonymized complaints.
The university’s concern is whether “The Smolder Protocol” remains a safe, inclusive,
and educationally sound environment.
Beat. The silence feels public.
DEAN (CONT) (turning to Theo)
Mr. Navarro. You helped design the curriculum. Why do you stay involved?
THEO (voice even, but tight)
Because it works. It pushes students to confront how they show up in the world.
That’s messy. but it’s necessary.
DEAN
And the emotional strain? The confrontational drills?
THEO
A mirror isn’t dangerous just because it reflects something uncomfortable.
The dean doesn’t flinch. Turns to DeShawn.
DEAN
Mr. Avery. You’ve led several high-intensity sessions. What’s your investment here?
DESHAWN
This is the first place I’ve been where showing up as myself didn’t feel like a risk.
DEAN
And yet... multiple students cited your tone as “intimidating” and
your feedback as “unfiltered.”
DESHAWN (gritted)
Yeah. Confidence in someone like me doesn’t read as soft.
The dean scribbles. Moves on.
DEAN
Ms. Santiago?
CAMILA (measured)
I observe. I intervene when necessary. I mentor quietly. But make no mistake -
without this space, a lot of students would be finding their voice somewhere else. Somewhere less supervised.
The dean glances at the screen.
DEAN
Mr. Vasquez. You were the original mentee, correct?
MARK (nods slowly)
Yeah. I was the first one Marty ever coached.
DEAN
And would you say the experience changed you?
MARK
Yes.
DEAN
For the better?
Long pause. Mark shifts. Jules watches, not blinking.
MARK
Mostly.
(beat)
I found confidence. Presence. But sometimes I wonder if I built those things...
or just learned how to simulate them. I think Marty wanted both.
I think he still does. But I don’t know if that’s enough anymore.
Marty stiffens. Doesn’t respond. The dean lets the silence bite before speaking.
DEAN
Our decision is that unless you can provide formal documentation of changes made, reflective practices, and clear mental health safeguards,
this program may be disbanded by end of term.
Silence. The call ends. Chairs scrape. The group doesn’t move immediately.
INT. CAMPUS WALKWAY – MOMENTS LATER
The group walks out into overcast afternoon light. No one speaks for a moment.
Camila breaks the silence.
CAMILA
We can either defend what this was… or finally decide what it’s going to be.
DESHAWN
I don’t know if we survive another version.
JULES
Then maybe we don’t survive as a program. We survive as people.
Marty lingers at the back. The others walk ahead. He doesn’t follow yet.
INT. MARTY’S APARTMENT – NIGHT
Dim light from the bathroom. MARTY stands at the mirror, hoodie off, hands braced against the counter. No smirk. Just his face raw, unscripted. He looks older than he did a week ago. Or maybe just more honest.
MARTY (V.O.)
Personal entry:
Stillness is a kind of heat. But it doesn’t broadcast.
It sits in the room like truth and waits to be seen.
He reaches for a small notebook on the counter. Writes the words down slowly.
Doesn’t cross anything out. Doesn’t polish. Just documents.
He looks back at the mirror. Blinks. Stays.
INT. GROUP ROOM – END OF WEEK
Everyone’s seated. Calm. No tension. Just quiet honesty.
THEO
So? What did we learn?
JULES
That silence is scarier than sarcasm.
DESHAWN
That I don’t need a line if I mean what I say.
All eyes on Marty.
MARTY
That letting go of the spark doesn’t mean I lose the fire.
Beat.
THEO
Then I officially call this No Heat Week complete.
INT. GROUP ROOM – POST SESSION
Empty chairs. Faint echo of the closing bell outside.
MARK steps in just as Marty’s packing up.
Marty doesn’t look up.
MARTY
Let me guess. You’re here to tell me I lost the plot.
MARK
No. I think the plot’s still here. I just don’t know if you’re the one driving it anymore.
Marty flinches. Keeps folding up the whiteboard.
MARK (CONT)
You look tired, Marty. More tired than I’ve ever seen you before.
MARTY
I am.
MARK
Then just say so. If you’re done, say so.
But don’t drag us down with you trying to prove you’re not.
Beat. Marty finally meets his eyes.
MARTY
I thought I could outlast this. Push through.
MARTY (QUIET) (CONT)
Turns out charisma doesn’t do much when no one’s asking for it.
MARK
Then maybe stop performing and start deciding.
Mark walks out. Marty doesn’t move for a long time.
INT. CAMPUS BULLETIN BOARD – MORNING
A glossy flyer is taped up, front and center:
SMOLDER U
Confidence Reimagined
Flashy fonts. Gradient background. A QR code. Big promise.
Free Intro Session. Tonight.
THEO stops in his tracks. He reads the flyer once, then again. Frowns. Snaps a photo. Students pass behind him murmuring:
STUDENT 1
Are you going?
STUDENT 2
I mean… it’s not Marty, right? Feels like a reboot.
STUDENT 1
Sometimes a reboot’s what you need.
Theo’s jaw clenches.
INT. GROUP CHAT THREAD – THAT AFTERNOON
Smolder Squad Chat:
KYLE: anyone else see the flyer??
BENJI: lol yeah. they’re calling it Smolder U
CAMILA: Of course they are.
JULES: should we start printing vintage tees?
THEO: this isn’t funny. they’re pulling our language.
MILES (added by unknown): we’re not pulling. we’re evolving.
DESHAWN: who let him in? okay now it’s war.
INT. GROUP ROOM – LATER
The team’s in session, some standing, some seated. Tension simmers.
THEO projects the flyer on screen.
THEO
This just went campus-wide. They’re calling themselves Smolder U.
JULES
So, what are we?
MARTY
We’re still the original. But they’re louder.
DESHAWN
Looks like Miles is leading it.
THEO
With some guy who wrote a book called The Core of Confidence.
Beat. Marty’s jaw tenses.
JULES (smirking)
The COC?
Everyone groans. Marty cracks the faintest smile, but it doesn’t last.
EXT. CAMPUS GREEN – DAY
Flyers everywhere. Some torn. Some taped over group photos. Sidewalk chalk reads:
“WHO ARE YOU STICKING WITH?”
[ ] SMOLDER U
[ ] THE ORIGINALS
Camila walks past two students arguing softly.
STUDENT A
Theo’s smart, but Miles actually does something.
STUDENT B
Marty built this when no one believed in any of us.
Camila doesn’t interrupt. Just keeps walking.
INT. SMOLDER U POP-UP – EVENING
String lights. Loud music. High production. Branded water bottles.
A selfie wall that says: “DOMINATE YOUR SPACE.”
MILES steps up, hair styled, shirt fitted. He moves like a TED Talk had a gym membership.
MILES
Confidence doesn’t come from mirrors or mantras.
It comes from dominating your space. That is the core of confidence.
Cheers. Applause. Flashbulbs. It’s flashier than Marty ever allowed, but hollower.
A sharp-eyed guy beside Miles hands out QR codes and pre-orders for “COC” merch.
INT. CAMPUS CAFE – NEXT DAY
THEO sits across from MILES, coffee cooling between them.
MILES
You’ve got structure. But we’ve got reach. Come onboard. Help us rebuild it the right way.
Theo stirs his coffee. Doesn’t answer.
INT. GROUP ROOM – NIGHT
The group’s gathered. THEO stands near the window.
DESHAWN
You thinking of jumping?
THEO
I was. Until I saw their drills.
JULES
Let me guess: a PowerPoint and some bench press challenges?
THEO
Close. They’re selling spectacle. We’re building selves.
Beat.
MARTY
Then we stay. Steady. Focused. No noise. Just signal.
INT. STUDY LOUNGE – LATER THAT NIGHT
BENJI sits with KYLE, scrolling Smolder U’s feed. Workout reels. Soundbites. Testimonials.
BENJI
They make it look so easy. No overthinking. Just action.
KYLE
So what? You want that?
BENJI
Maybe.
(beat)
BENJI (CONT)
Maybe I just don’t want to be the last one standing when the floor disappears.
Kyle doesn’t respond. Just keeps scrolling.
INT. SMOLDER U POP-UP – FINAL NIGHT
Music’s louder. Crowd’s bigger. Miles is mid-rant. Suddenly, people shift.
MARTY has entered, standing in the back. No announcement. No entrance. Just watching. MILES sees him. Grins.
MILES
You’ve been replaced. You just don’t know it yet.
MARTY (smiling faintly)
Then why am I still in your head?
No response. Marty turns. Walks out. As he leaves, a few students watch him go.
One even follows.
INT. CAMPUS MULTI-USE ROOM – EVENING
A student mixer is underway. Not a Smolder event, but both groups are present.
One corner buzzes: Smolder U reps in branded shirts,
Miles at the center like a sun with orbiting fans. They hand out glossies. Pose for selfies.
Across the room, THEO, JULES, CAMILA, and BENJI stand near a table with no banner.
Just a stack of notebooks and a coffee thermos.
STUDENT 1 (to Jules)
So… what’s the pitch?
JULES (flat)
No pitch. Just space.
STUDENT 1 (frowning)
That’s kind of vague.
THEO
It’s supposed to be. You don’t sell introspection with glitter.
The student nods awkwardly and walks away, clearly heading toward Miles.
BENJI
We should’ve printed something. A sign. A name tag. Something louder.
CAMILA
Why? So we look more credible? Or so we feel less invisible?
Beat.
BENJI
Both?
JULES
Loud doesn’t mean real. But real can get swallowed in the noise.
Across the room, Miles lifts a phone. Starts livestreaming.
A small crowd erupts in cheer as he shouts:
MILES
Confidence is a volume setting. Turn it up or get tuned out.
The crowd eats it up. Laughter. Claps. Camera flashes.
Jules watches, jaw set. Theo doesn’t look away.
THEO (quietly)
He’s not wrong. It’s just... that’s not us.
CAMILA
Then what are we?
Beat. Marty steps up behind them unexpected, understated.
MARTY
The ones who teach people how to speak, even when the mic’s off.
They all turn. He nods to the table no banner, no fanfare. Just room.
MARTY (CONT)
Let them chase applause. We’re here for the quiet after. When it matters.
INT. GROUP ROOM – LATER THAT NIGHT
The group room is dim, chairs scattered from the last session.
CAMILA flips through her notes.
JULES leans against the window, watching students leave the mixer across campus.
MARTY is collecting mugs. Quiet. Still uncertain.
THEO enters last, not rushed. He walks to the board, wipes it clean.
No one speaks until he turns around.
THEO
I thought about it. All of it. The reach, the exposure. The noise.
He looks directly at Marty.
THEO (CONT)
Miles isn’t wrong. Visibility matters. But we’ve been so focused on surviving quietly,
we’ve forgotten how to stand.
Beat. Marty nods, like he knows what’s coming.
THEO (CONT)
But this? This is the first space I’ve ever been in where
I didn’t have to compete to be taken seriously.
I’ve built half of this structure, but I came back because of the people in it.
He walks to the middle of the room, plants himself. Solid. Certain.
THEO (CONT)
So I’m not leaving. And I’m not shrinking.
We stay. But we get visible. Our way.
Beat. Camila looks up. Jules gives a single approving nod.
MARTY (quietly, but steady)
Then let’s build a signal they can’t ignore.
The chairs aren’t in rows anymore. The board is clean. The light is warm, but soft.
THEO, JULES, DESHAWN, BENJI, and CAMILA linger.
No agenda now just murmurs, inside jokes, tired laughs.
Kyle hands someone a mismatched mug. Theo’s drawing diagrams in the air again.
Jules rolls his eyes but listens. DeShawn mimics a “Power Stance 2.0” in the corner. Camila actually smiles.
MARTY stands slightly off to the side, watching. Not directing. Just witnessing.
MARTY (V.O.)
Sometimes the loudest truth… is the one you don’t say.
A glance. A nod. A look held just a little too long.
That’s what builds trust here.
I built this protocol at first by yelling.
And we’ve tried to survive by shrinking.
But presence doesn’t require either.
Sometimes it just… stays.
And gets heard anyway.
Theo taps the whiteboard.
“BUILD A SIGNAL THEY CAN’T IGNORE”
is now written across it in uneven marker.
MARTY (V.O.) (CONT)
The silent truth?
It was never about being loud.
It was about being real.
And that was enough for it to matter.
Fade to black.
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