Tonight’s Moderators:

CNS ANCHOR:
RACHEL RUHLE

[DNC HOST HOTEL – CONVENTION LOBBY – MORNING]
A storm of movement and noise. Press badges. Campaign aides. 
Donors in tense circles. Reporters prepping their pre-debate segments.

NARRATOR/LUNDY (Voice-Over):
This is the pre-game of a political war.
Three Democratic candidates are the gravitational centers of the chaos.

GOVERNOR MARTIN REDDEN stands in his suite surrounded by handlers.

His image: flawless: Popular two-term governor. Midwestern.
Clean reputation. Family-man aura. Fatherly calm.

A staffer misreads a briefing. Redden snaps — icy, sharp, instant.

REDDEN:
Read it correctly. Or don’t read it at all.

The room stiffens.
Then his smile switches back on like a light.
This is the first crack we’ve seen.

CNS ANCHOR RACHEL RUHLE (on-air):
Redden enters the first debate with a commanding 18-point lead.
Many see this as his nomination to lose.

[DOWN THE HALL]
SENATOR ZONA IONIA-BARRETTE runs a final-prep rally with her debate team.

She is: precise, fierce, brilliant, unapologetically progressive,
adored by activists, distrusted by moderates.
Her voice cuts like a blade:

ZONA IONIA-BARRETTE (ZIB):
We are not here to appease the donor class.
We are here to lead the middle class.
Got it?

Her team roars approval.

Zona isn’t nervous. She’s hungry.

RACHEL RUHLE (on-air):
Zona has locked down the progressive wing — but can she grow?
Tonight is her chance.

[SMALL HOLDING ROOM]
LEO FAIRBANKS, former TV child star, ties a shoelace, checking his notes alone.
Answers a couple quick questions from an attractive female television reporter.

Fairbanks barely qualified for the debate. 
His national support is between 1–2%.
His presence is gentle, disarming, almost shy.

Voice from the hallway:

STAFFER:
Leo, sound check moved to five.

LEO FAIRBANKS (soft smile):
Oh — sure. Thank you.

No entourage. No chaos.
Just a man who looks slightly surprised to be running for anything.

Nearby, a tech assistant shows another staffer a video on her phone.

A shaky, 12-second clip of Leo earlier that morning —
giving an off-the-cuff answer about grief and healing.
Soft. Raw. Vulnerable.
Poetic without meaning to be.

STAFFER 1:
This thing has three million views already.

STAFFER 2:
Who knew the sitcom kid had depth?

The #FairbanksFlicker hashtag begins to trend.

* * * * * 

Strategists pace. Donors bicker quietly.
Young volunteers whisper:

VOLUNTEER 1:
Redden looks unbeatable.

VOLUNTEER 2:
Zona’s gonna light him up.

FEMALE VOLUNTEER 3:
Fairbanks? Cute. But he’s gone after this.

The stage is nearly set.
The tension is building quietly.

* * * * *
[HOTEL SERVICE CORRIDOR – LATE AFTERNOON]
The DNC hotel hums with barely-controlled anxiety.
Staffers rush in both directions.
Assistants clutch coffee and binders.
The debate is mere hours away.

In the war rooms, the storm is gathering:

[REDDEN HQ – PRIVATE HALLWAY]
Governor Martin Redden walks briskly with his policy chief. 
His smile evaporates the second the door closes.

POLICY CHIEF:
The moderators added an immigration segment.
They want specifics.

REDDEN (irritated):
Of course they do.
And Zona will theatrically burn the script, and Fairbanks will…
I don’t know, hug someone.

The aide hesitates.

POLICY CHIEF:
We need to tighten your stance. It’s sounding—
(worried)
—paternalistic.

Redden stops. Turns. Cold.

REDDEN:
I am paternalistic.
I’ve raised a state.
I can damn well raise a country, too.

He walks on.

That line lands heavy — this is not the man America thinks he is.

[DONOR MEET-AND-GREET – SAME TIME]

A billionaire bundler gently suggests Zona Ionia-Barrette “tone it down tonight.”

BUNDLER:
Moderates are skittish.
We need a calmer pitch.

ZIB (stares him dead in the eyes):
You don’t buy my pitch.
You don’t buy my conscience.
And you sure as hell don’t buy my silence.

The bundler blinks, stunned.

Her staff smirks.
They know a viral clip when they see one.

JUNIOR AIDE:
This is going to break TikTok.

[SMALL MEDIA ROOM – MINUTES LATER]

Leo Fairbanks sits with two local reporters, not national ones —
the only ones who requested him.
He answers their questions gently, thoughtfully.
Not slick. Not rehearsed.
Just honest.

REPORTER:
A lot of voters don’t know what you stand for.

LEO (smiles shyly):
That’s fair.
I guess… I’m figuring out how to say it.
But I know what I feel.
And sometimes that’s enough to start with.

Reporters exchange a look. Not mockery.
Curiosity.

[DIGITAL WAR ROOM – SAME MOMENT]

Young volunteers monitor screens.

A Fairbanks subreddit spikes.
His 12-second “Fairbanks Flicker” clip is now at 7 million views.

A volunteer scrolls, stunned.

[SIDE CONFERENCE ROOM – EARLY EVENING]

Zona Ionia-Barrette and an aide pass by Leo Fairbanks
in a hallway corner. He looks nervous about the debate. 
She stops.

ZIB:
You know you’re good, right?

FAIRBANKS (startled):
What?

ZIB:
Your words hit people.
Even when the room isn’t listening.

Leo blushes.

FAIRBANKS:
I’m still figuring it out.

ZIB (nods):
You will.
Just don’t shrink tonight.

She walks off.

Leo watches her go — grateful, confused, emboldened.

[STRATEGY SUITE – SAME TIME]

The senior strategists gather around screens.

STRATEGIST 1:
Fairbanks isn’t supposed to matter.

STRATEGIST 2:
He won’t last.
He’ll crack on stage.

STRATEGIST 3:
Unless… he doesn’t.

Silence.

The hotel hum deepens. Staff hurry to their positions.
Cameras test their rigs. Security checks the doors.
The political atmosphere crackles.

Three Democratic candidates.
Three storms.
One stage.

[CUT TO BLACK]

[VENN TOWER – HIGH-RISE OFFICE – NIGHT]

A silent, glass-walled corner office. Miles of cityscape flicker beneath.

Nicolai Venn watches three screens at once:

• Martin Redden rehearsing

• Zona Ionia-Barrette rallying donors

• Leo Fairbanks doing a local news hit

He is expressionless — surgical. Composed. Clinical.

His takeaway:
Redden is predictable.
Zona is expected.
Fairbanks is irrelevant.

He’s almost bored.
He switches the feed.

ANALYST:
The debate talent scouts say Redden’s prepped.
Zona will hit him hard.
Fairbanks will get one question — maybe two.

VENN:
Mhm.

The analyst hesitates.

ANALYST:
You’re… not concerned?

VENN:
About which one?

ANALYST:
Redden’s the inevitable nominee.

Venn doesn’t respond.
He simply turns to another monitor.

[SMALL CHAMBER-OF-COMMERCE EVENT – STREAMING VIDEO]
A small business luncheon is in progress in a mid-sized city.
No fanfare. No political banners. No presidential energy.

GRAHAM SINCLEAR stands onstage: 

He is: calm, ethical, steady, charismatic without demanding attention.
A businessman with humility. A center-of-gravity presence.
Someone who makes a room breathe easier.

He speaks about: community, responsibility, the future of small business, sustainable growth, integrity in leadership, service over ego.

Nothing flashy. Nothing dramatic.
But it’s genuine. Solid. Anchoring.

AUDIENCE MEMBER:
Would you ever consider running for office?

The room chuckles.
Graham chuckles with them.

GRAHAM SINCLEAR (smiling):
I’m exactly where I’m useful.

The room applauds warmly.

Cut to -- [VENN — STILL WATCHING]

Venn leans forward slightly.
Just slightly.
Eyes narrowing.

VENN:
That one.

ANALYST:
(surprised)
Sir?

VENN:
Mark him.

ANALYST:
He’s… not running for anything.

VENN:
Not yet.

[DNC HALL – CONTINUOUS]

The candidates move around the hall:

• Redden shakes hands with donors like a man walking through his own coronation.

• ZIB huddles with young activists, fire in her eyes.

• Fairbanks stands quietly by a water cooler, mostly unnoticed.

No one imagines what’s coming.

[MEN’S ROOM – SAME TIME]

Redden stands at the sink, alone. 
He stares at his trembling hand.
Not fear. Not nerves.
Something heavier.

REDDEN (mutters to himself):
Just hold together.
Hold together through the debate.
Then…
Then we deal with it.

He forces a smile back onto his own reflection and walks out.

[BACK HALLWAY – EVENING]

ZIB checks her phone. Dozens of messages.

Half her donors: “Calm down tonight.”
Half the left wing: “Go scorched-earth.”

She exhales, annoyed.

ZIB (to herself):
Pick a lane, America.

[STAGE WINGS – SAME TIME]
Fairbanks adjusts his tie with the help of a stagehand. 
He looks shy, grateful, nervous.

STAGEHAND:
You ready, sir?

FAIRBANKS:
Honestly?
I’m hoping for two questions.
Three would be a miracle.

The stagehand chuckles.

Leo smiles — shy, earnest, calm.

The audience vibrates with energy behind the curtain.

[DNC STRATEGY SUITE – NIGHT]
Strategists crowd around screens.

STRATEGIST 1:
After tonight, this race is Redden vs. Zona.

STRATEGIST 2:
Let Fairbanks speak.
He’s non-threatening.

STRATEGIST 3:
Tomorrow’s headlines will be “Redden Dominates,” guaranteed.

They clink glasses.
The universe laughs quietly offscreen.

Camera: slowly pushes down the debate-stage hallway.
Lights flare. Staffers scatter.
The candidates are being summoned to the stage.

Tonight is the night before everything changes.

[DEBATE HALL BACKSTAGE – NIGHT]
The air vibrates with pressure. Black curtains sway gently from the HVAC hum.
Camera operators roll cables across the floor.
Producers speak into headsets like surgeons directing a trauma room.

STAGE MANAGER (shouting):
Ten minutes to standby! Ten minutes!

Staffers scurry like insects at the edge of a spotlight.
The candidates gather in their separate corners.

[REDDEN CORNER – SAME TIME]
Governor Martin Redden stands immaculate in his tailored suit.
Aide presses a folder into his hands — a confidential compliance memo.

Redden flips it open.
His face tightens.

AIDE (whispers):
We’ll manage this. It’s minor.
It’s nothing.

Redden closes the folder slowly.

REDDEN:
Keep it buried until after the debate.

The aide nods.

But the panic is now visible in Redden’s eyes.
He adjusts his tie — too aggressively — then inhales, forcing his smile back into place.
The mask is cracking.

[ZONA CORNER – SAME TIME]
Senator Zona Ionia-Barrette stands with her strategy team. They’re running final lines.

AIDE 1:
Hammer inequality.
Hammer corruption.
Do not let Redden define the center.

AIDE 2:
And ignore the billionaire you roasted earlier.
It’s blowing up online — in a good way.

ZIB nods, nerves and adrenaline mixing.
Her jaw flexes. Her hands clench.
Her eyes sharpen into battlefield focus.
She is ready to strike.

ZIB (quiet, steady):
This is our moment to show the base…
I’m not here to play nice.

Her aides nod in fervent agreement.

[FAIRBANKS CORNER – SAME TIME]
No swarm of staff. No chaos.
Just Leo Fairbanks, alone, adjusting a microphone clip on his tie.
A volunteer brings him water.

VOLUNTEER:
Nervous?

FAIRBANKS (smiles softly):
Terrified.

The volunteer blushes.
Fairbanks looks toward the stage entrance — where blinding lights spill onto the floor.

He whispers to himself:
FAIRBANKS::
Just… try to be useful.

No one hears it.

[NETWORK CONTROL ROOM – SAME TIME]
Producers watch the three candidate feeds on monitors.

PRODUCER 1:
Redden looks rattled.

PRODUCER 2:
Zona’s keyed up.
She’s going to go for blood.

PRODUCER 3:
Fairbanks…
(squints)
…is he meditating?

They laugh lightly. No one thinks he matters.

[VENN TOWER – NIGHT]

Nicolai Venn — a tech giant recently proclaimed the world’s first trillionaire —
watches the feeds alone. Dim lights. Stillness. His analyst rushes in.

ANALYST:
Redden looks off tonight.
Zona’s too hot.
And Fairbanks—

VENN (interrupting):
The unknown.

ANALYST:
Sir?

Venn leans back in his chair.
Calm. Ominous. Certain.

VENN:
Unknowns stay irrelevant…
until the night they don’t.

The analyst shivers.

[DEBATE STAGE WINGS – MOMENTS LATER]

Spotlights swing upward. The audience roars as the announcer’s voice booms.

MODERATOR (Voice-Over):
Ladies and gentlemen…
Welcome to the first Democratic Presidential Debate!

Redden steps toward the curtain first.
Smooth. Tall. Confident — on the outside.

Zona follows, shoulders squared like a warrior entering the arena.

Fairbanks stands last.
He swallows. He breathes. He steps forward.
A staffer quickly wipes sweat from his forehead.

Fairbanks murmurs:

FAIRBANKS:
Thank you.

The staffer seems surprised.
Kindness is rare backstage.

Camera flashes hit Fairbanks’ hair at just the right angle.
A young woman in the front row perks up, whispering:

YOUNG WOMAN:
Hey, isn’t that the guy from—
(long pause)
…oh. Wow. He looks different all grown up.

Her boyfriend shrugs.

BOYFRIEND:
He’s not gonna last five minutes.

[DEBATE STAGE – CONTINUOUS]
The three podiums glow.
The moderators shuffle papers.
The sound tech signals the countdown.

STAGE MANAGER:
Ten seconds!
Quiet in the house!

Fairbanks closes his eyes.

Redden clenches the hidden memo. His hand trembles.

Zona locks onto Redden with a lioness stare.

5
Fairbanks opens his eyes.

4
Zona inhales fire.

3
Redden’s smile strains.

2
A hush falls.

1
Spotlights flare.

MODERATOR RACHEL RUHLE:
Let the debate begin.

[END OF SEASON 1]

* * * * *
SEASON 2 PREVIEW -- MONTAGE:

• President J.V. Dance & Miles Spent:
  A private room. Two silhouettes. A handshake. No audio.

Caption: “Two months before the announcement.”

• Martin Redden:
  Shirt undone. The memo on his desk:

Memo: “RE: Southern Finance PAC — Compliance Irregularities.”

• Leo Fairbanks:
  Exiting the debate stage. A young viewer grabs his arm.

Subtitle: “That thing you said… that wasn’t just politics.”

• Nicolai Venn:
  Late-night diner. A diverse group talks quietly.

Subtitle: “I think we need a third lane.”

Someone nods.

The Mediator Party is born.

[CUT TO BLACK]
[END OF EPISODE 6]
[END OF SEASON 1]

Artist rendering of the first 2028 Democratic Primary Debate, featuring (from left):
Leo Fairbanks, Gov. Martin Redden, and Sen. Zona-Ionia Barrette.

Governor Martin Redden

Governor Martin Redden (right) walks briskly with his policy chief. His smile evaporated the second the door closed.

Zona Ionia-Barrette and an aide pass Leo Fairbanks in a hallway corner. He looks nervous about the debate. She stops to chat.