🎭 Scene 1.1 – “Connected, but alone”

Based on the original scene created by the young participants.(The characters are maintained and their voices are respected.)

The scene opens in Vladimir's room at home. It's Friday afternoon. He's 27 years old and alone. Or so it seems.

We immediately hear noise, voices, stimuli. Knocks on the door. Messages. Videos. Non-stop screens. The outside world calls to him, but he stays inside, hooked on another kind of company: that of infinite content.

Some friends knock on the door.

— Hey, let's go out to a party, are you coming?

Vladimir replies that he doesn't, that he has plans today. But he doesn't seem to have any real plans with anyone. He stays in the room, going from one video to another, from one voice to another, from one stimulus to the next. Football, reactions, gameplay, disconnected sentences, advice disguised as entertainment. Everything happens very quickly. Everything occupies him.

Amidst this digital noise, a strange question appears, almost as if the screen were speaking directly to him:

— Do you know how your mental health is?

But the question doesn’t open a conversation. It just adds to the flow.

Then the father arrives. He doesn’t come in shouting. There’s no big confrontation. Just a dry, direct observation that cuts through him.

His friends are downstairs. He’s still there in time. He can still go down.

But the father tells him something else, something that weighs more:

— Do you know what your problem is? Your addiction isn’t the joints. It’s this thing over here.

He points to the device. The screen. The mobile phone. Whatever is occupying his mind.

And suddenly the scene changes a little. Not because Vladimir is no longer alone, but because now he can no longer completely ignore what they’ve told him. He keeps looking at things. He keeps exploring. But he does it affectedly. There’s a crack.

Then another type of message appears:

— Connect and disconnect.

— Connecting with those around you and disconnecting from the phone.

It's as if, in the midst of the same system that absorbs him, a different idea sneaks in. A possibility.

Finally, the phone rings. A friend invites him again. This time, Vladimir hesitates less.

He changes his mind.

He says yes.

And leaves.

--

This scene is not just about a young man staying home watching videos. It's about a loneliness that doesn't always seem like loneliness because it's full of noise, impacts, constant connection. It's about how technology can take up so much mental space that it ends up replacing, or postponing, relationships with others.

There's no great external drama. Nothing spectacular happens. And that's precisely where the strength of the scene lies: it shows how conflict can be silent, everyday, almost invisible. A boy alone in his room. Friends waiting downstairs. A father telling an uncomfortable truth. And a small decision — to go downstairs or not — that ends up containing a much bigger question.

This scene isn't just about excessive cell phone use. It's about mental health, emotional disconnection, the ambiguity of always being connected but increasingly distant from others. It's also about how hard it is to break a dynamic when it has become normal.

And above all, it's about this: that sometimes the problem isn't that no one calls you. The problem is that, even if they do, you don't know how to get off the screen.