EXT. SEAWALL - DAY
The setting sun casts shimmering reflections on the water. YBOR sits in a folding chair, skillfully casting his fishing line. A BOY beside him rests his chin in his hands, staring intently at the bobber.
BOY
Ybor, do you think the fish can see the sunset underwater too?
YBOR
(turning to the boy, smiling)
Maybe. How could we understand their world?
BOY
(thoughtfully)
Just like I can never figure out your story.
Ybor falls silent for a moment, gazing into the distance.
YBOR
My story is like the sea—calm on the surface but hiding many unknowns beneath.
BOY
(curiously)
So why do you always come here to fish?
YBOR
Because the ocean has taught me patience and waiting.
BOY
But you never tell me what you're waiting for.
Ybor doesn’t answer, gently patting the boy’s head.
YBOR
You’re still young; some things you’ll understand when you grow up.
BOY
(slightly frustrated)
You always say that!
In the distance, a seabird flies by. Ybor points to it, changing the subject.
YBOR
Look, it flies so freely.
BOY
I wish I could soar like that too.
YBOR
One day, you’ll find your own sky.
The boy opens his mouth to ask again, but Ybor suddenly stands, tugging hard on the fishing rod.
YBOR
Shh, I think I’ve got a bite.


