[Text on screen reads, ‘NSW Department of Education, Playwright interview - ‘Intent – staging scripts’ video Drama Year 11.’]

[Text on screen reads, ‘We recognise the Ongoing Custodians of the lands and waterways where we work and live. We pay respect to Elders past and present as ongoing teachers of knowledge, songlines and stories. We strive to ensure every Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander learner in NSW achieves their potential through education.’]

[Text on screen reads, ‘Challito Browne, Writer, performer, filmmaker, theatre maker and teacher]

Challito Browne

My name is Challito Browne and I am a writer, performer, filmmaker, theatre maker, and teacher. When writing a duologue for 2 actors when only one of them is speaking, it's quite similar in how I approach writing a monologue in that you are always speaking to someone and you have to keep that person in mind.

We're really lucky when we write theatre, when we perform theatre because we get to speak a little bit longer than we would usually in, than in film or in real life. People aren't cutting over the top of each other as often, or it's a dramatic device that we suspend that disbelief so that people are allowed to share everything that's on their chest, hopefully in an eloquent way with whoever they're speaking to.

So that's kind of where I approached it from. It was just like writing any other piece of theatre.

There are moments where you have to remind the speaker and the audience that there's someone else in that room with them, and when they're not speaking, it's very easy to not mention that person or what they're doing or how they're feeling or how they're reacting.

So, you have to be quite specific with when you choose to place those directions and how much space you give those directions because you don't want that secondary character to overrun that scene.

'Like the Moon' is a duologue about a character in high school who has a crush on someone and doesn't know how to express that. And at the same time, they're battling with this feeling that ... of being too smart and they don't wanna shine too bright. And they just want to keep as far away from tall poppy syndrome as they can. And then, just from being themselves and talking, all of that comes undone.

So, the influences I drew on while writing like the moon, I think I actually started with a piece of poetry I wrote after seeing a show called Punk Rock, which is a show about a whole bunch of teenagers in high school. And when this commission came through, I revisited that and edited it a lot. I changed it a lot as this character clarified itself in my mind.

And I finished the poem and I wondered why someone would share that and, and who that person is, who would write that. And it made me think about, I suppose, myself in high school. And now I've started teaching young people. And so that's who this character is. He lives inside me a little bit and or they live inside so many other people, young people. I find this character very exciting. They're in a very exciting time in their life.

So, the stylistic shift in 'Like the Moon' is probably my favourite part of this process.

Student

A perfect, absolute true consumption that leaves other souls howling at the moon, waiting for the darkness. How sick is that? I thought you'd like it.

Challito Browne

I love playing with the difference in heightened language and mundane language. For me as a performer, that's what I love. I love trying to figure out how do I justify this shift and what do I do on stage with that?

And you have the luxury of doing something really grand and large, and you have the luxury of doing nothing at all because the text is doing it all for you. So, for me, I wanted to give the performer a gift that I often hope for when I receive a script, which is just, here's something really wild and something that sounds like we don't speak ever in our life.

I suppose in creating that silent character in the piece I wrote what I would want as a performer in that there is a strong grounding in who I am, where I am, and how I feel about what's going on. And then I have the freedom to go wherever I want from that. And what's really exciting about that is when you are a silent character or when you have small lines or not as much on the page as everyone else, you have freedom to help shape the rest of the world around that person that has the majority of the lines. It's a supporting role and it's really exciting to be really creative with how you can best support people's attention in figuring out what is that through line, what's the narrative? And it's not always the person who's speaking the most on stage. It's like it's not a tennis game where you're playing against each other. You're working on that together.

So in 'Like the Moon', the silent character is given a choice at the end to either accept or reject the speaking characters profession of love. I suppose it's, it's here where I really firmly believe in the death of the author, like, where I believe that scene goes is completely irrelevant. And it's really important for me that students and young people take this piece and they make their own decisions, and that's what that silent character gets to do in 'Like the Moon'.

So, during this process, we were given the task to write a duologue, and then that duologue was handed to another writer and another writer's duologue was handed to us. So, I was given 'The Becoming' by Eloise Snape, and my duologue was given to James Elazzi and he wrote 'Not the Moon'. And it was pretty cheeky, hey? He made a decision for that silent character, which is his decision. You don't have to make that decision if you're performing 'Not the Moon'. And it was really exciting as well, because I wouldn't have ever thought to take it there, but it's also such an obvious response to that, to that moment.

Like, there's a person in my world who writes this like beautiful big, crazy poem and then says it to someone and then reveals that it was actually him when he was pretending like he just found it online and then this person goes away and James' in work and it's just, like, 'That was too much. It's too much.' It's beautiful. I love it.

When we got the task to write in response to another writer's duologue, when I actually got 'The Becoming' by Eloise Snape, it was just such a gift. 'cause Eloise had created this world and gone so far into this kind of science fiction universe that I'd just wouldn't have thought of to explore. It was just this beautiful, creative gift that she just handed to me on a platter and at the same time, open the door just enough so I could fill out my own section of that world and do so with complete creative freedom. It was, yeah, really awesome. And then the world itself is actually a very small part of that. Duologue really is about those characters' interactions and how they feel about each other. And so much of 'Existential ideations of catastrophic circumstances' is about the speaking character's relationship with their sister.

So, in writing for these young voices, I got to draw on answers to these focus group questions that were provided to us. And they were just like a wellspring of imagination, like, one of the lines that we got back was ... this person thought they were gonna live in the Gen Z parking lot, which for me, I had to figure out what that was. And then when I realised it's so grim and I had to imagine what it must be like to be a young person and feel like that's the future that they've got to look forward to and that, yeah, I mean so much of the character comes from that one line.

What I was thinking about when writing the playwright's notes was, I suppose at the beginning of my creative journey when I was starting to perform, I didn't know what I had permission to play with and it was really important for me to allow who, whatever performer picked this up to play with all of it.

When I wrote 'Like the Moon', I saw that these 2 characters on the page were just people in love and it didn't matter how they identified. And for me that was really important because as a performer, it's not often that you get to pick up a script and all that matters is your connection with the heart of the character that's on the page.

Often, we're cast because of a whole range of reasons that sometimes feels like box ticking and sometimes goes a lot deeper than that. And it was really important for me to have a piece where a performer could just say, 'No. I see myself reflected in that character and it's okay for me to play that.'

[Text on screen reads, ‘Thank you to The Arts Unit and Year 11 students at the 2026 NSW State Drama Camp for your contribution to this project. Filming on Garigal Country, The Collaroy Centre, Collaroy.’]

[Screen shows, NSW Government logo waratah and ‘© State of New South Wales (Department of Education) 2026.’]

[End of transcript]

[Text on screen reads, ‘NSW Department of Education, Enacting script interviews: ‘Intent – staging scripts’ video’ Drama Year 11.’]

[Text on screen reads, ‘We recognise the Ongoing Custodians of the lands and waterways where we work and live. We pay respect to Elders past and present as ongoing teachers of knowledge, songlines and stories. We strive to ensure every Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander learner in NSW achieves their potential through education.’]

Callan Purcell

When approaching scripts with young people, it's really important that they see themselves in the stories that they're telling.

Brittanie Shipway

I think the classroom is always going to feel alive because the students bring their own personality and their day into the room.

[Text on screen reads, ‘Brittanie Shipway, Theatre maker, director, performer']

When I prepared with these duologues before seeing the students, I wanted to make sure that I had an understanding of the text, that I knew the beats within the text as well, where the climax of the piece was.

[Text on screen reads, ‘Callan Purcell, Theatre maker']

To encourage the students to see the dramatic elements within the scene.

Usually, I'll start with a game and that straightaway starts with the actors or the players just playing something.

Brittanie

I find flocking with music very helpful, where students clump together and they move gently, and I guess it's a follow the leader exercise, but the leader keeps changing, depending what direction you move in.

Callan

It's really useful to come from a place of play because it's free, it's liberating. It's focused on the action of the scene versus the individual going, what's my character? What am I doing? Am I doing a good job? It takes the young person's mind, out of themselves and into their body.

Student 1

So, we were practising Sarah Wilson's 'Fixing the object'.

So, the whole story is about this one character and she's very chaotic and she's almost ranting for validation to, to a friend about how her Mum and her Auntie have some sort of ... some difficult relationship.

Callan

And for the first time we did it, the character that wasn't speaking, it felt like they were just waiting for their next line.

But then we tried this idea, this improvised scene before it, of why they get into this monologue.

Student 2

One of the challenges of working on a duologue where only one person speaks was particularly for me because I was mainly the person who just didn't speak, was it was kind of hard to find something to fill the space.

Callan

And we started with Mum coming in on this tirade of going, 'you didn't clean your room’, ‘you didn't do this’, ‘you didn't do that’. And as a class we were talking about has anyone been in that situation of being at a friend's house? We were talking about the atmosphere of like it being awkward or this atmosphere of discomfort.

And so, then the student who didn't have lines in that, that scene, the silent student took that atmosphere on and it justified what ... that ... very much why they hadn't said anything because it was like this walking on eggshells.

Student 2

But what I found with made it quite easier was I just reacted based off what Kate gave me, and I gave myself an intention for what I was trying to portray.

Callan

We needed to, from the get-go, see that it's actually a collection of thoughts from both young people if you're speaking or not, but they ... in the collection of thoughts, that's what makes it the scene. So sometimes there can be the trap of falling into recitation, into a scene, especially if there's only one actor that is saying the dialogue.

But one thing to stress is that whether you have lots of dialogue or no dialogue at all, that both parts are genuinely equally as important. Uh, because speaking is an action, you still have gestures, you still have stage directions in the piece. So, what we did once, if there was the trap of recitation, we kept coming back to, but what are you trying to do to the other person? To ... to ... how are you affecting them? And using the text as a way to affect them.

Student 3

Me and my partner chose to perform 'The Cut', and I think something that really drew me to choosing that performance was the character development, which is something that really interested me.

Brittanie

So, an exercise I did for 'The Cut', I asked the responder to repeat the last phrase or word of the script.

So, if a student A who was speaking the text said, ‘Do you like this haircut?’ Then the responder would say, ‘Do I like it?’. And that's just part of the process throughout the whole piece where they start to understand that their response is important because the speaker cannot continue until they've responded to the responder.

Neither party can continue to work or create the story without the other. It's that really symbiotic relationship. And 'The Cut's' so interesting because a lot of the students tend to place themselves in front of the mirror and the person is behind them. So, if you don't have the physicality to know how they're responding to your words, what else are you going to use in your toolbox?

And then we start to strip back the text and they can't respond anymore, but they feel it in their body. And I find just layering that and texturing that process, makes it easier for students to understand

Callan

If we felt like students were stuck, kind of with the hand in script, what we did, we added, uh, what we call like 'flaming chainsaw' or things to heighten the stakes in the space.

So how can we make the scene more interesting or more difficult for the actor to play? And it's a useful ... task for the audience because then they too are part of creating this scene. They're not just observers; they are active contributors when we are, like, opening the scene up and then they'll do the same thing.

Student 4

A strategy that our tutor taught us that I would be comfortable bringing back to school is Callan's '5 Pillar Strategy', which helps us explore like character objectives and motives. And the '5 Pillar Strategy' starts with number one, the objective of the speaker. Number 2, the objective of the listener.

Um, number 3, the cost, which is, um, like what would happen if the characters in question don't meet their objective. The ... the why, which is the context of the situation, why the characters are there, and the ‘flaming chainsaws’, which is how we can heighten the situation to make it more engaging for the audience.

Brittanie

And then when we start looking at text and we are looking at tone and beat shifts and tempo further on down the track, I like to introduce film soundtracks or underscoring and what happens, the kids feel a shift. They embody the tempo because we are all musical human beings. We've got a heartbeat. We, we understand rhythm.

Student 1

And that actually changed the entire atmosphere. It did prove to be a little challenging, but it was pushing us out of our comfort zones because we felt that we had to conform to the actual music so we could, it could all be cohesive and we could all fit into one like singular act, but it, it added a lot more to the atmosphere and the character and the relationships themselves.

Brittanie

There will come a time in some classes where you have an uneven group and we had 3 students that were working on a duologue together. So, one student was speaking the text pages and pages of text, and we had 2 other students that were responding. What's great about this is that you have more points of tension and so I encouraged the other 2 reactors to make sure they were playing off each other as well.

Callan

At the end of the day, the most important thing is that these young people see themselves in these stories, so making sure that there is space for conversation of how they see themselves in these roles, what they would do in these situations, if they know people, uh, who are similar to these characters, because then they find a way into the stories. They're invested in them and then they will make those stories their own and, uh, then everyone wins.

Student 3

I think it's really positive and it's great that we are learning different styles of theatre and how I can actually bring that to my school back at home.

Brittanie

What you are actually setting your student up to succeed in is being able to affect another person. So many different actions that we can play with each other and that sense of play can then be taken into a monologue and now they know what feeling to chase.

[Text on screen reads, ‘Thank you to The Arts Unit and Year 11 students at the 2026 NSW State Drama Camp for your contribution to this project. Filming on Garigal Country, The Collaroy Centre, Collaroy.’]

[Screen shows, NSW Government logo waratah and ‘© State of New South Wales (Department of Education) 2026.’]

[End of transcript]

[Text on screen reads, ‘NSW Department of Education, Moved reading: Like the Moon by Challito Browne.’]

[Text on screen reads, ‘We recognise the Ongoing Custodians of the lands and waterways where we work and live. We pay respect to Elders past and present as ongoing teachers of knowledge, songlines and stories. We strive to ensure every Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander learner in NSW achieves their potential through education.’]

Robin

I once knew a soul who shone like the moon. We revolved around their lunar orbit. There was compulsion, impulse, desire, a need to be inspired. So totally that one might mistake them for the fierce sun. Yet the very next breath that soul could wane, an imperceptible turn from the light. And like lonely nights between crescent moons, the soul embraced darkness, ran into its arms like a loyal black dog, starved of its master, desperate for love.

They swallowed vile bitterest, poison with glee and revolved in the light they consumed. Just like this brilliant moment in which today might be mistaken for the sun. They were breaths where one might see them for an instant as a dying star. A great force, hungry and terrifying, raising every wave, burst and shard of light.

If that soul let you into their orbit, you'd see yourself as a dying star too. Devouring the brightness until the hunger, the darkness extinguished all of your light. A perfect, absolute true consumption that leaves other souls howling at the moon, waiting for the darkness.

How sick is that? I thought you'd like it.

Grim vibe, you know.

Um, I found it online. I don't usually read stuff like that, like that long. Like that's pretty long. But I, I don't know. I just started reading it and I couldn’t stop. And when I finished, I thought, well, I thought you would like that. It kind of reminds me of you, you know, grim vibe. Like, no offence, but it’s kind of emo, but it’s not, it’s too powerful.

It’s just this force into itself. It sounds like they're describing a superhero, but with a dark past, you know, someone who’s had a rough go, but uses it to make themselves stronger. Not that I think you’re a superhero. I mean, you’re all right. Don’t get me wrong. I’m just not gassing you up. Like there’s plenty to gas you up about. Nah, there’s not. Nah there is. Uh, like you're alright. I just, I just don’t want you to get a big head. Wouldn’t look good on you. No jokes. I’m just saying dividing thing was cool. You’re cool.

It’s cool ... forget it.

Um, like, you know what I was thinking? I mean, social media sucks, blah, blah, blah. Romanticise the destruction of my flailing mental health. Boring, boring, boring. Reshape my frontal lobe and make me a slave to my Lord and saviour Zuck. But like, I also find awesome stuff like this, and I wonder if it’s all bad. Like Mum might shut up about how it’s cooked.

Honestly, the way she goes on about it, I reckon she’s the one who’s cooked. Like, I just reckon, like, I wouldn’t find this in a library book. You know? I don’t know. Maybe I am cooked. I get where she’s coming from. My Mum. I’m buried in this, in this thing. It’s, it’s cringe to say, but sometimes I go full zombie mind-off finger on doomscroll, like I’m trying to reach the end of the feed.

And then sometimes I just land in this place. It’s like a dark place and it scares me. And sometimes I’m in that place and then I see my mates, my good mates, and I get stressed out for saying hi for no reason. So, I just dive in here like a chicken burying its head in the sand or whatever that bird is.

Have you ever done that? I hate it. Like I even do it with you sometimes. Like I’m so over it. I’m so over it.

I just wanted to do something that would freak me out. So, I went online, I started reading, and I wrote this for you. Read it. I read it, read it for you. Are you recording this? Please don’t. Like, can you not tell anyone?

I honestly can’t deal with that right now. Please pretend I didn’t ...

Oh God. Look, I just wanted to freak myself out, but not like this. This is too real. I just, I just, I don’t know. I, I just started writing one day, Mum banned me from my phone, but whatever. I kind of liked the writing thing and I wanted to write better, so I started reading like everything, like everything I could get my hands on.

I read it and I started writing and I wrote so, so much, and I realised that whenever I was writing I was thinking of you and then I was writing to you and then I was writing about you.

You’re like the sun. You’re this light that invades my brain and it’s blinding. You’re blinding, and I can’t think of anything else until I turn that light off. Writing is the only thing that turns you off, like, gets you out of my head. So that’s what I did. I just wrote you out of my head.

Don’t get me wrong, I, I kind of like you in there in my head. I just can’t function. I can barely hear anyone else.

Please don’t tell anyone this. No one can know. I’ll get made fun of so bad if anyone found out. I just, I can’t, I can’t have anyone think that I’m smart. I’m not. I’m not smart, you know, I just read some dumb stuff online and copied it, but I made it my own.

But like, that’s what AI does. I just did it worse. Like that ‘vile bitterest’ line that’s ripped straight from Romeo and Juliet. I just twisted it a bit. See, I’m not smart, my intelligence is, it’s artificial, worse than artificial. It’s simulated.

I need to shut up. Go on laugh. I know you want to, just please don’t spread it around. I seriously can’t have everyone thinking I’m ...

I hate it when you look at me like that, like I’m just another star for you to consume.

[Text on screen reads, ‘Thank you to The Arts Unit and Year 11 students at the 2026 NSW State Drama Camp for your contribution to this project. Filming on Garigal Country, The Collaroy Centre, Collaroy.’]

[Screen shows, NSW Government logo waratah and ‘© State of New South Wales (Department of Education) 2026.’]

[End of transcript]

[Text on screen reads, ‘'NSW Department of Education, JORDAN by Bjorn Stewart.’]

[Text on screen reads, ‘We recognise the Ongoing Custodians of the lands and waterways where we work and live. We pay respect to Elders past and present as ongoing teachers of knowledge, songlines and stories. We strive to ensure every Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander learner in NSW achieves their potential through education.’]

Jordan

Darn it, good. Good, that's, that's actually a good thing.

[Ripley enters]

Finally, you're here. Did you see any black cars?

Okay.

Before we start ranting at me, I was checking if you were bugged.

Sorry. Appreciate you coming. Nah, like really? I couldn't say this over the phone. Wait, can I see your phone?

[Jordan stamps on both phones]

There, they can't track us now.

Just realised I could have turned those off. Sorry.

No, dude, whatever you're about to say, it can wait. What I'm gonna tell you, I haven't spoken, I haven't spoken to anyone since it happened. I'm not entirely sure if it happened ... like maybe it was a dream or a psycho break. Maybe I'm having vivid hallucinations from all the brain rot and microchips cooking our brains.

I don't know, but it felt real. My felt, my soul felt something happened.

Don't look at me like that, dude. Black cars have been stalking me, tinted windows, no number plates, sometimes parked out the front of my place for days. It's like I'm going crazy, but I'm not. I'm not crazy.

But, but I'm scared. You're not going to believe me. Ripley, promise me you'll believe me. Okay? Please.

And I don't want you to ask any questions. I don't want you to come up with solutions or explanations like you always do. I want to be heard. I want you to listen.

All right. I, I was abducted by aliens.

[Ripley goes to leave]

Okay, sure. Go. I made the whole thing up. You know, just 'cause I'm into the UFOs doesn't mean I'm in La-La Land. Hand on heart, I swear. Actually, real life, living, breathing aliens as real as you and me. Do you know how insane that is?

Dude, I wet myself. Ripley, please. I was there when you were going through your hectic stuff. Can you hear me on this?

[Ripley sits down]

Thank you. So anyway, I peed my pants, okay. Ha ha ha. Laugh it up. But that's what happened. I was screaming ... not in pain or anything ... just yelling for 20 minutes. Can't stop my body going, ‘Ah, ah, ah!’ Happened last Thursday. I'm on the couch watching Nope on the TV before anyone says anything. That movie had nothing to do with my abduction.

Anyway, headlights appear. Appear in the driveway. I'm thinking Mum's back. Mum's back from the shopping. But the headlights don't turn off, which means I get a few seconds of peace before she bursts in going, 'Bring in the shopping, take out the bins, open the window, place smells like hole, hang up your uniform, defrost the meats. So much mess. What am I, a slave to you kids? A slave! I get no help from you lot, no help!'

But the headlights not only stay on, they get brighter. Blindingly bright. So bright daylight outside.

I can hear this high-pitched drum like a vacuum outside sucking up the dirt in the front yard.

I get up and look at the window when suddenly I'm on the metal slate slab.

The light is dim. But I see these beings hobbling in. Their skin was pale, almost translucent, like ghost faces, blank eyes, glass-like moving dolls. Not dead, but not alive either.

They worked on a telepathic level, assembling this device. Once the final piece snapped into place, they looked at me, all in sync.

I swung with them. My arms won't move. They creeped closer. I can't talk. Closer. I grunt and heave closer with all my strength. I unclench my jaw to finally say ... nothing.

They shoved the device into my neck. It cuts my throat, chopping up, my insides burning me. I'm angry. Why are they doing this? What did I do?

Stop.

My tears are searing hot, stinging my eyes as they run down my face. I want my Mum. I'm screaming, but I can't hear my voice. Nobody hears my voice. Where's my Mum?

I'm home, but not at my window. I'm in the kitchen. I could have sworn I was looking out the window.

Cold, wet, screaming, no cuts or blood, no pain but hurt.

It's funny. How can you, can I ask you to believe me if I don't believe me?

Maybe I'm pushing my sanity because I'm begging for my humanity.

Ripley, please believe me.

[Ripley and Jordan embrace]

[Text on screen reads, ‘Thank you to The Arts Unit and Year 11 students at the 2026 NSW State Drama Camp for your contribution to this project. Filming on Garigal Country, The Collaroy Centre, Collaroy.’]

[Screen shows, NSW Government logo waratah and ‘© State of New South Wales (Department of Education) 2026.’]

[End of transcript]

[Text on screen reads, 'NSW Department of Education, Moved reading: A BETTER RIPLEY by Sarah Wilson.’]

[Text on screen reads, ‘We recognise the Ongoing Custodians of the lands and waterways where we work and live. We pay respect to Elders past and present as ongoing teachers of knowledge, songlines and stories. We strive to ensure every Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander learner in NSW achieves their potential through education.’]

Ripley

God, shut up, I’m thinking. Don’t do that. I said don’t do that.

Okay. Um, I can’t take Jordan, he stays at home now, mostly after that alien thing. Um, I’m just, um, fair enough. But Jordan’s kind of like my go-to mate for this sort of thing, you know?

No, no, no, no, no, there is no – I’m not inviting you! Can you even imagine?

I mean, not that you are not, ’cause you are. I’m just, I’m not saying that. It’s just the fact that you’re so, do you know? Yeah, that’s kind of the problem. The problem for me, not for you.

It’s a good thing. A compliment. I wish I was like that. Like you. What if I just don’t go? And I mean, not because of you. I mean not really. Exactly.

Contributing to the whole productively. You are not really contributing productively to the whole friends I can bring to the beach trip brainstorm right now either.

Stop that and stop that. We’ve already talked about that. I don’t like it when you do. That freaks me out.

Oh my God, my God. Just gimme a sec now.

You know what? Fine, you can come to the beach trip.

That way I can push you off the jetty and you wouldn’t be annoying me anymore.

Before you say anything—yes, it’s actually a big deal.

’Cause people feel sorry for me enough as it is without me having to show up friendless to the annual beach trip.

It’s not that I don’t have friends, you know, I have friends, but I just don’t have beach trip friends. Last year Jordan had like this family thing and he couldn’t come till like the third day.

Right, and for those 2 days everyone was trying so aggressively hard to include me in anything. I couldn’t even do anything I wanted to do. And it’s nice of them, obviously, but like too nice, if that makes sense.

You know, they’re acting like I’m bereaved or something. The years before that, my brother’s girlfriend broke up with him just before the trip and I swear he got less empathy.

It was as if my friend coming a bit late to the trip was spitting on our friendship, ruining the trip, ruining my life. They had to distract me before I, I don’t know, threw someone off a jetty.

I wouldn’t actually push you off the jetty or anyone else. They know that I’m probably being paranoid. I mean, they never liked my girl ... my brother’s girlfriend. That’s probably why they didn’t act like it was the end of the world when she wasn’t there.

Yes, obviously they would like you. Everyone loves you. But even if I was only one friendless beach trip away from snapping, bringing you would not improve things. I mean, look at yourself.

Yep. Yeah, exactly.

You know, I lied. I do mind people feeling sorry for me. Jordan is the only friend who didn’t make me feel sorry for being me.

We were mates because we liked the same shows and movies. We trusted each other. We genuinely enjoyed hanging out together.

And Jordan’s mum is the only friend’s mum that actually said no to me.

I mean, she’s not rude or harsh or anything, but she’s nice, like a normal, nice. She acts like Jordan’s a bit of a rat bag.

So if she treats me like I’m a bit of a rat bag too, and yeah, it’s nice. Like she and Jordan don’t care.

I mean, they care, but they also don’t care. But in a good way.

I knew you wouldn’t understand.

Of course not. But that’s why I can’t take you even if I wanted to because ’cause everyone on the beach trip would look at you and look at me side by side and they’d know what I could be, what I should be if things were different.

Regardless, you will always be the better version of me in people’s heads.

And no one would ever look at me like I was anything other than the inferior copy.

Don’t do that.

[Text on screen reads, ‘Thank you to The Arts Unit and Year 11 students at the 2026 NSW State Drama Camp for your contribution to this project. Filming on Garigal Country, The Collaroy Centre, Collaroy.’]

[Screen shows, NSW Government logo waratah and ‘© State of New South Wales (Department of Education) 2026.’]

[End of transcript]

[Text on screen reads, 'NSW Department of Education, The Becoming by Elosie Snape.’]

[Text on screen reads, ‘We recognise the Ongoing Custodians of the lands and waterways where we work and live. We pay respect to Elders past and present as ongoing teachers of knowledge, songlines and stories. We strive to ensure every Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander learner in NSW achieves their potential through education.’]

Hattie

You were right. Um, yeah, you were right. I just thought, well, 10 years isn't that scary or extreme, right? And Audrey went forward as to Charlie XCX at Coachella – I mean Coachella, but I guess it's all indoors now. They have aircon. And also, Alice went forward to – actually, no, that's not a really good example.

Alice is really weird. You need to worry about her. She ended up as an outdoor wedding of some sad MAF contestant and, well, let's just say it didn't go well. Not at all. Like at least pick a queen on Drag Race or something if you're going to waste your time on reality TV. Hahhh. And they say it's safe, like super safe tech, um, until it's not.

But that's on us at the end of the day when we sign the waiver. I know you told me what was in it – the stuff about the time travel part, environmental circumstances, blah, blah, blah if you travel forward. So, isn’t it always just safer to go back? I know you said go back, only go back. But I figured it's just 30 minutes, right?

Unless you pay premium, then it's like a whole week. But no one ever does that except for Ellie. Oh my gosh. She used her folks' credit card and chose Taylor Swift. It ended up being a week before her wedding. She was living as Taylor Swift at her hens. The guest list – Oh the guest list was out of control.

Oh, anyways, um, I just thought to live in her boots for even 5 minutes is worth every little terrifying word in that waiver that I really just didn't need. So, yeah. Yeah. I, anyways, when Audrey got back from her Coachella performance and nothing went wrong, she had an almost religious experience. I thought, okay, let's do this because, um, because this is the only time I ever get to feel like this, to think on her field in those moments, for my body to move like hers.

I can train and train and train, but at the end of the day, what makes her her is the mind of a champion – or I don't even know how to explain it, but there's something about her ... that, like, it makes her, her. Oh. And like, of course I am me, right? Like, but, well, I don't have what she has. And so, I really, really needed to know what that was, what it felt like, you know?

So, I told Audrey the night before. I couldn’t tell you. I knew you. Like, yeah. So, I told Audrey I was going to activate it, and I wouldn’t be at school the next day cause obviously, I’d be sick. Um, but also I just needed someone to know where I was going to be, just in case, you know, just in case.

So, I went to bed and I barely slept from the excitement. I sat up and scrolled and read interviews, just watched the moment, you know – the World Cup final goal from last year – over and over and over again. I could literally talk you through each and every move of that goal off by heart. Do you wanna hear?

Then I played Breathless by The Corrs, her song, over and over and over, right? And like, I closed my eyes hoping I would drift off. But every time I’d start to fall asleep, my body would just jolt me awake. Maybe it’s from adrenaline. The adrenaline was wild. Did you? My whole body chaotically thumping, thumping, thumping.

It’s funny because I didn’t think I was scared like in my head – I wasn’t. But my body felt fear. It’s funny because I didn’t think I was scared, you know? But it’s amazing how like 2 things can be exactly the same, right? I nearly like called out to you, but like I knew you would talk me out of it. So, I didn’t.

Um, I must have drifted off eventually because suddenly Mum was opening my blinds and it was just pacing down outside, right? And as she was like, time to get up, traffic’s going to be a nightmare this morning, and I was like, um, oh, I don’t feel really well.

You really want to hear about this? And she’s like, mm. It’s my tummy, I couldn’t sleep. It kept me up all night. And she’s like, don’t want a code brown, a code brown. Ugh. A what? And she said, just stay close to the loo. Let me know if I can get you anything, sweetheart. And then she just left, right? Ugh. I heard the radio in the kitchen turn on; the smoothie maker was making its whirring sound.

The smell of burnt toast. Ugh. It was so good that tummy ache didn’t even matter.

Okay. Okay. Let’s do it right now. Right now. Okay. Okay. Go on.

Um, so I texted Audrey and I said, I’m gonna log on. Okay.

I scrolled through the rubbish on my home screen until I found the app 'The Becoming. Um, I loaded it up. There’s that homepage where there’s such a bunch of celebs of the day.

Let’s be honest—it’s just a bunch of Z grade celebrities paying extra dollars for front page advertising. Um, no one really wants to be them. A few ex-criminals. Donald Trump spruiking the trip back to where he was the host of  'The Apprentice'. No thanks.

Um, I have to watch a lot of ads to get back to the me page until finally it says, 'Who do you become today?'

And of course, I type Sam Kerr. 'When would you like to become Sam Kerr?' I type 10 years in the future – the World Cup final. I scroll through the waiver, take a gulp of air, and use breath recognition to sign and activate the trial. Thirty minutes. My heart wants to propel out of my chest and just fly across the room.

But I have to stay focused, right? If you want to be the best, you literally have to become the best. Your app instructs me to insert my AirPods, and I close my eyes. The Corrs blast into my eardrums: 'Go on, go on, leave me breathless.' It’s only 30 minutes, 30 short minutes. You wish you paid for more. Ah.

And then the app says, 'You are now becoming Sam Kerr.'

I hear distant yelling and laughing – a crowd chants get louder. Louder. And I begin to morph into the violins of The Corrs, which starts fading into the back of my mind. And then a whistle; my eyes open. I’m staring down my opponent; she’s smiling. It’s a cheeky smile. I notice her colours. She’s a Lioness.

Wow. It’s England versus Australia. Perfect. I’m overwhelmed with the feeling of confidence. I’m really inside her mind, inside her skin. My body feels so powerful right now. As I move, I’m like lightless. I’m flying.

Time for me to dribble. I dribble, then pass. It’s 2 all. There’s 30 minutes left on the clock. I dribble, pass, I dribble, pass. I do a fake-back, pull over, and take a shot right into the goal. I miss, um but it hits the side of the net. But the crowd loves it. They love me. I can do no wrong. I look up to one of my teammates and she winks, but something isn’t right.

She’s sweating, like really sweating, which obviously shouldn’t be that weird, but it’s just like something isn’t right. Dribble, pass. Dribble, pass. A single cut. Explores past the lioness. The crowd is insane. I feel their chance to my call. I ... I ... I ... what if my teammate is calling out to me? Um, I can’t hear her.

I can’t hear you. I can’t. I can’t hear her. She’s mouthing something. She’s bright red, burning. Oh my God. She’s on fire. She’s on fire. And then in front of me, she collapses.

Obviously, I tried to help her. I really tried to help her. But I can’t. I’m too red. I’m on fire. My whole body is burning.

I realise I can’t breathe. I start to panic. It’s so hot. Why is it so hot? I never felt heat like this. It hurts. My whole body hurts. I’m dropping to the ground.

Mum. I don’t know if I’m calling as Sam or me, Mum. I want my Mum. And suddenly I don’t want to be anyone else right now. Someone is placing cold towels on my arms. 'Another 57 degrees out here' they say, 'it’s too hot for you. It’s too hot for anyone.' They say, 'I want to go home. Can I go back 10 years ago? Please?' 'Huh? Don’t we all,' they say. 'Please, I want to be me. Just want to be me.'

I open my eyes and Mum is wiping my forehead with a cool cloth.

'Gosh, you poor thing,' she says.

I thought you were having me on. When she leaves, I look at my phone. There’s a notification from the app asking if I want to subscribe to premium.

I delete it. I open up the weather app and look at the forecast for the week: thunderstorms but temp increasing by the end of the week.

So yeah. You were right. But do you think, um, do you reckon if we used it to go back, we could change some things? Maybe you can do some things better and then go forward again?

I promise, like I'll read the waiver.

[Text on screen reads, ‘Thank you to The Arts Unit and Year 11 students at the 2026 NSW State Drama Camp for your contribution to this project. Filming on Garigal Country, The Collaroy Centre, Collaroy.’]

[Screen shows, NSW Government logo waratah and ‘© State of New South Wales (Department of Education) 2026.’]

[End of transcript]

[Text on screen reads, ‘NSW Department of Education, Existential ideations of catastrophic circumstances by Challito Browne.’]

[Text on screen reads, ‘We recognise the Ongoing Custodians of the lands and waterways where we work and live. We pay respect to Elders past and present as ongoing teachers of knowledge, songlines and stories. We strive to ensure every Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander learner in NSW achieves their potential through education.’]

Sam

11:05! I'm telling you, she does this on purpose. I'm telling you, it's not all in my head. After everything I've done for her.

See, when I was 2, Mum asked me a question: 'Do you want a little baby brother or a little baby sister?' I know, super heteronormative. That's what she said. And I said, 'No!' I screamed it. And I screamed because I spent all day at daycare watching these 2 siblings pulling each other's hair out.

All day. All day. Literally all day. Who pulls each other's hair out all day? Find something else to do.

And then, when finally the daycare teachers decided to try to pry them apart, you know what they do? They pull harder. They pull up their hair harder. They scream louder. So the teachers just left them alone, left them to keep doing it, kept doing it.

And so then I decided to ask the teachers, as little 2-year-old speaking babble – 'Why did they wanna hurt each other?'

That's my first memory: saying no to the idea of Hattie being born, but no one listens to me. And 1, 2, 3, 4, 5 months later, I had a little baby sister, and everything has been terrible ever since.

It's not fair.

I study hard. I clean my room. I walk Bosco. I read the terms and conditions in every app I install. I'm careful.

I analyse every situation for possible disastrous outcomes. I care about how my actions affect people.

Maybe I care too much.

But what does Hattie decide to do? She decides to do the opposite. She just skates through life with her perfect flippy hair and her big dumb eyelashes, which she bats and bats and bats and bats some more.

Did I mention she bats them?

She does all that until she gets everything she bloody wants.

And inevitably when things go wrong - because they always manage to do that somehow – I always end up shouldering the mountains of anxiety.

Well, she just moves on with her carefree world, which revolves around her perfect lifestyle.

You know what? Babup! I have a perfect example.

So yesterday she decided to share with me her climate change existential crisis. Honestly, I couldn't care less, but I decided to shoulder the crippling weight for her. And then today she didn't even bother to wake up on time. 11:05, my ass. I deserve better.

But instead, I'm stuck here with you two, a planet that's slowly heating up like it's got a fever, and humans with the bacteria that it's trying to purge.

Not that I blame her, Mother Nature, in all her glory planet.

I mean, if I had a big bunch of big, dumb idiots drilling into me and taking all my minerals, I want to scorch them off the face of my ... off the face of ... off the face of my face.

I just wish I was normal, so I don't wanna go to uni, meet someone special.

Maybe I can buy a house or an apartment. Or a tiny home, or even a camper. Screw it, maybe even just a car with the boot big enough for me.

Out the way real quick.

And neither of you tell me that I have to take responsibility for my own actions. My therapist already tells me that once a month.

Well, at least that's what she started doing after we spent 5 months trying to break through my first memory, the one with Hattie, and then I think she realised we weren't getting anywhere.

And now we're at the 'let it go' portion of therapy. And don't sing the song from Frozen.

I know you were bloody going to.

Like, seriously, why do I have to take responsibility for my actions when the world is run by a bunch of Hatties! Narcissists who skate their way through life without a single thought ... toward the possible catastrophic consequences of their own actions?

Can we not all admit that the world is a tiny bit broken, broken away before I got here?

There's nothing I can do about it.

Like my room was a mess, which it never is. But if it was, it would be like this: if my room was a mess, and Hattie, with her messy room, came in and was like, 'Can you clean your room?'

And I was like, 'It's my room. I'll do what I want with it.'

And she would be like, 'Well, can you at least make sure there’s a little bit less mess there? Some of it is spilling into the rest of the house.'

And I would be like, 'You're a con artist. You're entitled. You're a narcissist. You just want everything to be handed to you on a silver platter.'

And she would be like, 'No, I just – she doesn't want to live in a house with a messy room hypocritical.'

And I would be like, 'Ah, boo-hoo. What are you gonna do, you big baby? Go cry to your mummy. If you don't like it, then I'll just roll up my sleeves and do something about it.'

And she would be ...

And she'd be like, 'Okay, yeah, that's pretty immature. I think we could reassess some of your actions because you're already hoarding 99% of the stuff in this house. So you have like all the resources, and I think it'll be just a tiny bit reasonable for you to use some of that stuff to maybe make the rest of the house a tiny bit liveable.

Cause you're going to die. I'm gonna die. We're all gonna die. And all that’s gonna be left in our memory is a bunch of broken stuff and that's pretty lame.'

And then I'd be like ...

Were you even listening? Hello? I'm still talking to you.

Is it my thinly veiled metaphor? Too boring for you?

Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry.

It's just our future.

I didn't mean for it to be so boring. I'm sorry. I'm sorry.

Existential ideations of catastrophic circumstances.

That's something my therapist says.

You're not supposed to understand that.

Um, never mind.

Come with me.

I just feel like when I started life I got given 3 options: easy, normal, hard.

And I clicked hard thinking it was gonna be easy.

I didn't know how hard it was actually going to be.

Oh, I didn’t actually know what hard meant.

Just wanna go back into the settings, switch to easy mode, make it a tiny bit easier.

Cause I don't really wanna play this game anymore. It's hard.

Like intellectually, I know that Hattie, my sister, is not actually out to get me.

I know the world is not actually out to get me.

But ...

Should probably go check on her.

She had a rough day yesterday and I just, I just know we're gonna get into another screaming match and I won't even know what started it.

I guess that daycare worker is right.

Siblings are complicated.

And maybe if more people like Hattie and me could just put our arguments aside for a second and say, 'Yeah, this room is a mess, and if we clean up this house together, the whole house will be better for it, then maybe the world will be better for it.'

Take that.

It's just hard to have that level of optimism around Hattie, around anything when it feels like the rest of the world is burning down around you.

I don't know, maybe it's all in my head.

[Text on screen reads, ‘Thank you to The Arts Unit and Year 11 students at the 2026 NSW State Drama Camp for your contribution to this project. Filming on Garigal Country, The Collaroy Centre, Collaroy.’]

[Screen shows, NSW Government logo waratah and ‘© State of New South Wales (Department of Education) 2026.’]

[End of transcript]

[Text on screen reads, ‘NSW Department of Education, Moved reading: Fixing the object by Sarah Wilson.’]

[Text on screen reads, ‘We recognise the Ongoing Custodians of the lands and waterways where we work and live. We pay respect to Elders past and present as ongoing teachers of knowledge, songlines and stories. We strive to ensure every Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander learner in NSW achieves their potential through education.’]

Sasha

Have I told you about Kaycee before? Yeah. Right. So, my Mum's little sister, heaps younger than Mum – 10 years maybe. She works with computers, so she's good at computers, obviously. Mum loves to joke, 'Your Aunt is way better with computers than with people,' which I think is Mum's polite way of saying that Kaycee annoys her.

I know she only compares me to Kaycee when I'm annoying her or when she thinks I'm too obsessed with what's happening in your screen to notice what's happening in the real world – Because, to Mum, those things are mutually exclusive. I know it's a cliché for teenagers to say their parents don't get it, even if they literally don't.

Kaycee tells me all the time that she's sure she doesn't get it, but weirdly, by saying she doesn't get it, demonstrates that she does get it. Does that make sense?

It being, I don't know, phones, the internet, as in case you'll say, sure. I was constantly on my fan forums fighting tooth and nail about how Spock and Kirk should definitely kiss. But everything was separate from like the newspaper and my boss asking me to cover the shift. Is it overwhelming to have everything all in one place?

The other nice thing about Kaycee is that when she raises it as a question, it's an actual question. Like, if Mum says, 'Is it overwhelming to have everything all in one place?' she doesn't actually want my opinion. She's just telling me like her thoughts and then putting a question mark at the end. Whereas when I told Kaycee 'No, having everything in one place doesn't overwhelm me,' she said, 'Oh, okay. Just thinking about it overwhelms me, but you are allowed to feel differently.'

Anyway, the point is, you know how my old laptop just randomly died during English last week?

And I was so stressed because I need my notes, not to borrow yours or to have another copy of the handout. I have a system and it works. School doesn't work for me, and my note system is the only thing.

So anyway, I needed a working laptop. So, Mum asked Kaycee to come over and take a look at it, to see if we could avoid buying me a new one.

And Kaycee had the laptop dissected on the dining room table and she said, 'Jenna, respectfully, even if I could fix this, I wouldn't because it's not worth it. Look at this plastic hinge.' And then she just took ... broke the hinge, wrong on purpose, and it cracked. Mum started yelling that she asked Kaycee to fix my laptop, not to break it more.

Kaycee tried to explain. 'I have about a hundred of these as broken trade-ins that I use for donor parts. So, if you want me to get a new hinge and a new motherboard – the problem is a fried motherboard, by the way – then I can just get these parts for you. But I've already got a hundred of them because they're not good computers. This is planned obsolescence, Jenna. I don't want Sasha to get in trouble for breaking it when that's what it's designed to do.'

'Oh, so you think I'm too harsh on Sasha?'

'I didn't say that. Didn't have to. I literally didn't say that.'

'Oh, you think I'm too hard on Sasha? And you think because you're so smart you'd be a better parent than me. You think you know everything?'

'No, I don't think I know everything. But I do know about computers.'

Whenever we disagree on something important, Mum loves to say, 'Oh, quit, why don’t you go home while you still know everything.'

I dunno why you think you know everything is Mum's go-to. Number one. I don't think I know everything either. And literally, if she cared enough to look at my marks, she'd realise I know basically nothing.

Number 2, sometimes I wish, I wish I knew less. You know, it's not an actual wish – I threaten to throw my phone in the river once a week. But we both know I'll never actually do it cause it's a natural wish. Because if I think it through, I know it's better to know about wars and famine and climate change and unfair laws and poverty and scammers and predators. Everything. Everything, everything.

Because the alternative is that if I throw my phone into the river, then I can't listen or learn or help and also bonus, I can't talk to my friends or pick up the extra shift or watch video after video until my brain finally shuts up.

Kaycee said she could train me to work at her shop if I wanted. I said I wasn't any good with computers.

She said that I was good with people and that the shop needs someone who's good with people and that it's a lot easier to get someone who understands people to understand computers. She says she knows that because she isn't very good with people.

And I said, I didn't think that was true.

I told Kaycee I think about it. It would be nice to know how to fix things, you know?

[Text on screen reads, ‘Thank you to The Arts Unit and Year 11 students at the 2026 NSW State Drama Camp for your contribution to this project. Filming on Garigal Country, The Collaroy Centre, Collaroy.’]

[Screen shows, NSW Government logo waratah and ‘© State of New South Wales (Department of Education) 2026.’]

[End of transcript]

[Text on screen reads, 'NSW Department of Education, The Cut by Eloise Snape.’]

[Text on screen reads, ‘We recognise the Ongoing Custodians of the lands and waterways where we work and live. We pay respect to Elders past and present as ongoing teachers of knowledge, songlines and stories. We strive to ensure every Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander learner in NSW achieves their potential through education.’]

Alex

I just thought, you know, well, maybe this could fix it. I don't mean I need to fix the world or anything, just ... all I can think of to do. You know, it's all I can do. And ah, I feel sick.

Great, can we just wait a second? Just a minute. Just a minute. It's just, I haven't cut my hair like ever. I mean, that's not entirely true. I stole the scissors when I was 3 and I cut my hair into this mullet, like Joe. It was like Joe Exotic, you know, Tiger King? Yeah. My Mum says it's because I don’t want my hair to touch my ears.

And of course, at some point, my Mum cut my hair too. I mean, she had this picture of me at 8-years-old on the fridge, put a bowl right on my head, and cut right around. I mean Wednesday Addams would be jealous of that fringe. But other than that, the hair feels like, you know, it’s part of me. It’s just ... been with me through everything.

I mean, I had nits. I went to formal, had my first kiss – it was terrible, but I had it. And my first job at Woolies checkout and it conveniently covered up, you know, pimples because the patches wouldn’t. It’s the hair I was born with; you know it just determines the way I look. It’s who I am.

Um ... Did you always want to be a hairdresser?

Well, I had our session with my career counsellor yesterday. You know. She was nice – actually, no, she was kind of, you know, pretending to be nice. But she clearly didn't want to be there. And I think it’s hilarious because the career counsellor doesn’t actually like her career, and I'm supposed to be taking advice from her.

She had a really bouncy bob, like this. Yeah. She spoke in that falsetto voice – that you know everything she said was a lie. But you're supposed to know more than what you actually know, like what’s your favourite colour, about yourself, your hobbies, your subjects, what you're going to do – all that stuff.

But what if, I don’t know, and especially when you're school captain like me – I’m supposed to lead people, you know, supposed to have a purpose such as direction?

Mum left school at 15; you know, she became a receptionist for 2 years and then at 17 left for London. She met my dad and got married. But actually, before she met my Dad, she had this affair with a British man – country house, fancy dogs, the whole thing, which I thought was pretty cool – and then I was like, why didn’t you marry him?

I would've been a lady, like a real lady. Then I wouldn’t have to care about what I’m going to do when I finished school. But then she reminded me that I wouldn’t actually be me if she’d married him.

But then again my sister wanted to be an actress, you know, all the fancy stuff, but she ended up working for this guy who runs parties. You know, she gets to dress up as princesses Elsa, Anna– the whole shebang. Her boyfriend is in it too. You know, I remember spotting him at our local park wearing a Spider-Man outfit.

That was way too tight, and he was being mauled by a 4-year-old who was taking advantage of his wedgie. My sister was really bad at balloon animals, and it was like a war zone. Each time a balloon would pop, a small child would drop to the floor crying.

My friend is Sasha; her mum's a midwife, so kind of like a nurse, and you know, which I think is cool but I don’t know, I don’t think I’ll do that as a career. You know when the baby is nearly out, I’d be passed out on the floor next to them. Plus, you can’t organise your calendar around it because when the baby comes, it just comes; I can’t ask the birthing mum mid-labour to like, hold on while I finish watching an episode of  Vanderpump.

But I guess if, like ...

... When Mum was diagnosed, I thought, I have to fix this. Maybe if I was a midwife or a nurse and if I had some medical knowledge, just anything, I could help her. You know, I said I wanted to fix things, and I told the lady that, cause I didn’t know what to be. She said, 'What?' I said, 'I’m scared.' She said, 'Scared of what?' I said, 'War. You know, the planet being too hot to live on, my phone, robots, being completely homeless, my Mum dying of cancer.' The bob lady just kind of got awkward and then ushered me out the room. But, I don’t know, do you think her hairdresser hated her? I mean …

I mean, it’s powerful, right? Just being able to cut someone's hair in any way you want. I mean, I would just give someone a full mullet just like the Joe Exotic that I had, but only if I really hated them, only if I hated them.

When Mum lost her hair, and all sense of who she was – it’s like she lost a part of herself.

And I thought I could fix this, you know?

That’s why I’m here.

I’m ready. Chop it off. Chop it all off.

[Text on screen reads, ‘Thank you to The Arts Unit and Year 11 students at the 2026 NSW State Drama Camp for your contribution to this project. Filming on Garigal Country, The Collaroy Centre, Collaroy.’]

[Screen shows, NSW Government logo waratah and ‘© State of New South Wales (Department of Education) 2026.’]

[End of transcript]

[Text on screen reads, 'NSW Department of Education, LET'S GO SAVE THE WORLD THIS WEEKEND by Bjorn Stewart.’]

[Text on screen reads, ‘We recognise the Ongoing Custodians of the lands and waterways where we work and live. We pay respect to Elders past and present as ongoing teachers of knowledge, songlines and stories. We strive to ensure every Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander learner in NSW achieves their potential through education.’]

Guy

Okay. Okay. Let me just get this straight. Your voice has been trapped by these ancient scrolls.

[El signals 12 on their fingers]

Um, 12 ancient scrolls to be precise, and they are currently located in a secret facility underneath the Parliament House.

[El nods]

And these scrolls keep imprisoned an interdimensional elder god called Zaarthawhei, the Unnameable, who is hell-bent on destroying the world.

[EL nods]

Okay, and you need my help to bring your voice back from these ancient scrolls that will then unlock Gaia, the Earth goddess energy in you, giving you superpowers.

[El nods]

And you got told all of this from a time-travelling Space Wizard named Bing Bing.

[El nods]

Saying that you are the chosen one who will vanquish Zaarthawhei and his followers.

[El gives a thumbs up]

Okay. Okay. Okay. Cool. Cool, cool, cool, cool, cool.

Why is he called Zaarthawhei if he has a name? Why is he the unnamed if he clearly has a name?

[El shrugs]

And just when I thought that this day couldn't get any weirder, you know, this man came up to me and law dropped about his dead dog on the station.

I know. It's just, you know, um, this really takes the cake.

El, I would love to stay and help you and Bing Bing sneak into the Australian Government and stop an ancient evil brainwash cult. But we have an assignment due Monday.

[El is shocked]

Yes. Yes. I know. The duologues for drama. What a bludge subject, am I right?

So how about we, um, you know, go save the world next weekend.

[El mimes an explosion]

I, I, I know, I know, I know. It's just, I have a lot on my plate right now, and you are asking me to go on this crazy fantasy quest with you. We're better off leaving it to the government, you know, like ...

Okay, yeah, you're right.

But did you think about this ... the chosen one?

We have no money. We can't drive. You can't talk. How are we supposed to get around?

No, we need to find someone who knows what they're doing.

[El jots in a sketchbook and flips it over, 'Bing Bing!']

The time-travelling wizard. What happens when the Feds ask him for ID? 'Here you go, officer. A rabbit out of my hat.'

[El writes a big 'No'. Then she flips the page and scribbles something. Guy tries to take a peek, but EL doesn’t let him. EL flips the sketchbook over with the words ... 'He’s a talking cat'. With a drawing of a cat in a wizard hat.]

Are you serious? We need an adult. What about, um, Ms Backhouse?

[El shakes her head and writes 'Too Risky'.]

Okay. No teachers, no adults. Got it.

I, I mean, we, um, we don't have to go to Canberra, right? You know, I, I get some kind of unfathomable, evil is coming to destroy the world and the morally questionable chuds here, but it, it might not affect us if we don't do anything.

Is it really that bad if you don't talk ever again?

Like El, think about it. We're safer if we don't do anything.

You are talking about going up against ... we don't even know what right now ... agents and evil cults. And who knows what else. What if we find like aliens and lizard people dressed as politicians?

The back rooms, El. The back rooms. We don't know what we're up against.

We could be locked up, we could be unalived because you don't wanna be silent and you know, being quiet, it keeps you safe.

[El jots something down and shows it to Guy. 'When will you speak?' El drops the sketchbook and curls up by the bench. El's cries make no sound. Guy picks up the sketchbook, taking in the words, 'When will you speak?' Guy hands the sketchbook back to El.]

You know, on this platform at 8:34, um, that dude that stops me to talk about his dog. He said, 'Close my eyes.'

And I did.

And, and I don't know why. I probably just did it for the plot, but ...

[El scribbles in the sketchbook, 'Was he hot?']

He was normal. Okay.

Anyway, he tells me about, um, his country home and where he grew up. A house wrapped in olive trees and wrapped in lemon trees, almost like it was hugging the house.

And you know what was really strange about it? It was like almost as though I could smell it.

Yeah, he tells me about the time that he left the gate open, you know, and the dog escaped.

And when his family went searching for the dog, he caught his dad crying because he thought that the dog was gone forever and he had never seen his dad so vulnerable.

You know, my, my point is, um, you are like the dog.

No, no, no. I didn't mean it like that.

El, I didn't mean it like that. I, I just mean like, like you are my family, El, and I, I don't wanna lose you.

Okay. Like, I really mean that. I really do.

But I, I don't know how to help you. And that really scares me because I don't have powers.

I'm not rich. I don't know how to hack or pick locks. I don't know how to get us outta trouble here.

You know? I'm just a guy named Guy.

If I were to help you, what sort of superpowers would you get?

[El mimes an extraordinary set of superpowers, then takes a bow.]

Yeah, I didn't know what any of that meant, but it's okay, you know, because I'm happy to come with you and help you and, you know, kick some butt with the bad guys, with the dumb name and that weird space cat thing.

[El and Guy embrace]

Let's go stay the weekend together. But you have to promise me if you do get the superpowers, you won't say one of those cheesy MCU lines like ...

That sounded better in my head.

No, I'm not kidding. I would seriously get cringe goosebumps.

[Text on screen reads, ‘Thank you to The Arts Unit and Year 11 students at the 2026 NSW State Drama Camp for your contribution to this project. Filming on Garigal Country, The Collaroy Centre, Collaroy.’]

[Screen shows, NSW Government logo waratah and ‘© State of New South Wales (Department of Education) 2026.’]

[End of transcript]