INT. INTERROGATION ROOM – Afternoon
The same dimly lit room.
JIM sits across from DETECTIVE IKKAR, who flips through his notebook filled with notes from previous interviews.
Ikkar looks up.
IKKAR
Alright… Jim, was it?
JIM
Yes, sir.
Ikkar writes Jim's name down carefully.
A brief silence lingers.
IKKAR
Your friends told me about the club.
He leans forward slightly.
IKKAR
But first… who do you think killed Drammy?
Jim stiffens.
His fists clench.
JIM
I'm not sure what you're insinuating…
He leans forward, matching Ikkar's intensity.
JIM
…but it's definitely not one of us. If that's what you're thinking, detective, then you're wrong.
A beat.
JIM
Please… find the real criminal.
Ikkar studies him, then leans back.
IKKAR
Alright. I apologize. I wasn't insinuating anything.
He flips to a new page.
IKKAR
Let's move on. Tell me your side of the story.
⸻
FLASHBACK – FADE TO BLACK
Jim's voice echoes over darkness.
JIM (V.O.)
After we left the club… Arco and I were pretty intoxicated.
⸻
FLASHBACK – EXT. STREET – NIGHT
Blurry lights. Slightly distorted vision.
Jim and Arco stumble down the street, laughing weakly, clearly drunk.
⸻
FLASHBACK – INT. HOTEL LOBBY – NIGHT
They approach the front desk, barely steady on their feet.
Jim fumbles with his phone.
JIM (V.O.)
We decided to stay at a hotel for the night.
A receptionist hands over a key.
⸻
INT. INTERROGATION ROOM – Afternoon (PRESENT)
Ikkar looks up from his notes.
IKKAR
Do you have any proof of that?
Jim nods confidently.
He pulls out his phone and scrolls.
JIM
Yes. Right here.
He turns the phone toward Ikkar.
On the screen: a digital receipt for the hotel booking.
Ikkar examines it carefully.
He nods.
IKKAR
Alright.
He closes his notebook.
IKKAR
Thank you. That will be all.
⸻
INT. POLICE STATION – HALLWAY – MOMENTS LATER
Jim is escorted out of the room.
TO BE CONTINUED…