The waves have originated in the deep blue waters of the Southern Ocean. Winds and currents have powered them over a thousand miles to now reach their destination: a vast, deserted coastline on New Zealand's South Island.
As the waves reach the shallow waters near land, they rise up into perfect hollow barrels that roll, break, and then crash onto the beach. The loud claps of released energy thunder over the golden sand and up toward an eco-friendly, off-grid rural beach house. It stands totally alone. There are no roads.
On a clearing nearby, a new Bell helicopter shines. A quad bike with mini-trailer and surfboards is parked next to the home. Wetsuits hang over the railings of the deck.
The setting is a picture-perfect postcard scene of an untamed beachfront, native bushline, and a breathtaking mountain backdrop.
The morning sun rises above the ocean and bathes the house's front deck with its warm amber glow. The scattered light reflects and glints through empty champagne bottles that stand discarded on an outdoor dining table. The table is also littered with used dinner plates, wine glasses and leftover food. A couple of laptops hibernate on the edge of the tabletop.
Underneath the table is a pink case—it is from the game. The makeshift chilly bin is filled with bottles of alcohol, surrounded by semi-melted ice floating in a pool of water.
Next to the table, sprawled out on a sun lounger, Matt sleeps off the previous night's dinner party. He is fully clothed and snores.
Sophia opens a flyscreen door and steps out from the house onto the sunbleached deck. In one arm, she carries a beautiful seven-month-old baby girl, Hope Smith. With her other hand, she holds a hot, steaming cup of coffee.
The door slams shut behind her. The noise does not disturb Matt and he still sleeps.
Sophia walks over to Matt and puts the coffee down next to him. She kicks one of his legs to wake him up. "Hey."
Matt opens his eyes, just, then closes them again. "Do I smell coffee?"
"Careful, it's hot."
"Thanks. I'd drink it if I could move any of my limbs." Matt groans.
"You've got no one to blame but yourself."
"You sound like my mother."
"You sound like shit."
"Okay, I give in—I'll never get drunk again for the rest of my life."
"That's what you said last time."
"Yeah, I think I did—never did have any willpower when it comes to having a good time."
In contrast to Matt's disheveled state, Sophia radiates good health. Her tight-fitting sports gear shows off her lean, toned, tanned figure.
She moves with grace and purpose and makes a fuss of Hope and throws her gently in the air and catches her. She presses her nose against her baby's nose, then kisses and smells her. Contented and happy, they both giggle and smile at each other.
Sophia places Hope into a stroller, then pushes it over to Matt and positions the pram in front of him. The baby stares at Matt.
Sophia walks over to one of the two rowing machines on the deck, and calls over to Matt. "Hey, someone wants your attention."
Matt opens one eye and sees Hope watching him. "Hey, kid, just give me five here—okay?"
The baby gurgles back at Matt.
Sophia sits on the rowing machine and begins her morning workout.
Matt yawns, stretches and rubs the sleep from his eyes. He reaches down and picks up the hot cup of coffee. He takes a sip and burns his mouth. "Ow! HOLY FU—"
