BIO

EXT. MIAMI – LATE AFTERNOON – EARLY 2000s​

The sun hangs low. Sidewalks steam. A kid walks home alone—backpack slung over one shoulder, eyes scanning the cracks in the pavement. But his mind? Somewhere else entirely.

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V.O. (ABAI)

                                                                                                   (Joyful but pondering)
                                                        Miami, Florida. Home to beautiful beaches, one hundred percent humidity,

                                                        and immigrants. like my two African parents who carried their cultures

                                                        across oceans and planted them in the soil of a melting pot. While they

                                                        were learning how to navigate life in America, I was learning how to live

                                                        between two worlds—one rooted in tradition, the other in imagination.

                                                        The walk home became my quiet escape. I’d narrate entire scenes
                                                        in my head—where the boy from The Lake was an act in the Magic City,

                                                        or a young dreamer keeping peace after getting caught jumping fences

                                                        to eat sweet mangos off someone's tree. But for some reason, my mind

                                                        was always somewhere between what was and what could be.

                                                       

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CUT TO:

A living room filled with VHS tapes and TV reruns. A young Abai sits close to the TV, unknowingly studying every frame.

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V.O. (CONT’D)

                                                        The screen was a teacher. I didn’t just watch movies—I broke them down,

                                                        frame by frame. Something inside me knew I’d be telling stories too.

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CUT TO:

A high school classroom. Abai holds a camera for the first time. It’s shaky, unfamiliar—but the moment is electric. The lens focuses, and so does he.

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V.O. (CONT’D)

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                                                         That camera gave shape to everything I had felt for years. Suddenly,

                                                         I had a voice. I had a tool. I had a way in.

 

MONTAGE:
– A closet turned editing suite, glowing at midnight.
– A small Miami crew shooting their first short film on borrowed gear.
– A professor saying, “You have the eye. Don’t let go of it.”
– An email confirmation: Official Selection – Langston Hughes Film Festival.

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V.O. (CONT’D)

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                                                         I launched a production company, turned passion into practice.
                                                         Directed BET/MTV world-premiered music videos. Won Best

                                                         Documentary at Langston Hughes. Became a two-time finalist

                                                         at the London's Big Indi Film Festival. Worked behind the camera

                                                         on sets for Netflix, Amazon, and Paramount—watching, learning,

                                                         evolving.

 

EXT. LOS ANGELES – NIGHT
A man steps out of a studio door. Same eyes. Same fire. The city’s different, but the mission is clear.

 

V.O. (CONT’D)

                                                         Now I live in L.A., but I carry every piece of my past with me. Every story

                                                         I tell is for the kid I used to be—the one dreaming on the sidewalk, camera

                                                         in his heart before he ever held one in his hands. I don’t just make films.
                                                         I make space—for truth, for imagination, for those who’ve always known

                                                         they were meant for more than the box they were born in.

 

FADE TO NOW.