Opening shot: Music: "I'm Dreaming of a White Christmas". Camera panning through the streets of New York City, getting faster and faster as it suddenly turns down unexpected alleys and smaller streets, while the sun is setting all the time. End on The Life Café, Avenue B.
Zoom in through a dirty window, focus on the man by himself in a corner, sipping a tea.
Man: Hi. Me again. Welcome to my next film. To my next life. Long silence. Waiter!
Waiter approaches, wearing a baby-tee and a bright hat, looks at man with suspicion.
Waiter, looking at check: There's no money here. You couldn't pay. Again.
Man, getting up to leave: I never can.
He leaves.
Fade for transition. Music: "Musetta's Waltz". Cut to a parking lot nearby. Tents are everywhere, and people are huddling together for warmth. One woman sits in the middle of it all, hugging her knees to herself tightly. She appears to be looking for something.
Woman, quietly, almost to herself: Hey, can anyone…is anyone there? Can someone hear me? He's…she's not there.
Goes to the pay phone on the sidewalk, searching frantically for quarters. Dials quickly and is visibly relieved when someone answers.
Woman: Hey! It's me. Yeah. I thought you were coming…no, no one else either. I'm not. I've just been sitting. Talking to myself. I feel…a little bit sick. No, it's not that. I just…I'm cold, you know? Listen, do you want to…yeah, can we go there? Tonight? Sounds beautiful. At least you have heat. Nah, I'll walk, baby.
Quick transition to office, Upper West Side. Music: "Silverbells". Lawyer sits at a desk, tapping her pencil and staring out the window. Repeatedly looks down at her watch.
Lawyer, on phone: Hello? Yes. We've got them, sir. Don't worry. Your court date is all set. I'm confident for you, sir – hold on. Pushes button. Hello? No ma'am. I'm well aware ma'am, we're going to go ahead with the suit. It's in the bag, we're – just a moment. Another button. Dad? Not a good time. Dad…Dad! I know. I am coming home, sometime, I'm just really – Button. Hello? Who is…oh. No, no, I didn't mean to…hey, I'm sorry. How are you doing? Me either. I know, I just…I hardly see her anymore. Seems like I don't see anyone really now. How's the roommate doing? What did the doctors say? I should visit him sometime. I know, I have no idea where they are either. Haven't heard from either of them. Him? He's fine. I don't really talk to him but he's working pretty close to me now. Yeah. Just like always. Hey, listen, I have to go, but…you know, why don't you come over tonight? You know where I live? Great. Yeah. Me too. I'll see you then. Hangs up.
The lawyer sighs, looking at her watch, looking at her phone, looking at piles of papers everywhere, then grabs her coat, obviously deciding to leave early. Turns off the light, locks the door, and is gone, with a smile on her face.
Transition to nice, clean Manhattan apartment. Music: "Musetta's Waltz" again. Lawyer is busy making dinner. Knock heard on door.
Lawyer: Come in.
Woman from parking lot enters, looking nervous at first but gradually loosening up as she looks around at everything in the room, then fixes on the lawyer.
Woman: It feels odd being back here. It's been so long…oh, forget this.
Woman rushes to Lawyer, grabbing her about the shoulders and waste in a desperate, all-encompassing hug. Lawyer is surprised at first, but then gives in. She kisses the Woman's cheek.
Lawyer: Maureen, I've missed you.
Woman: I've missed you too, Joanne. God. So much.
Joanne stops making the food, takes Maureen by the hand, and leads her to the sofa. Camera angle from behind, emphasizing their faces only.
Joanne: Let's just…sit for a moment. I haven't gotten to relax in a long time.
Maureen: Me either. Pause. Have you talked to…is…uh…Trails off awkwardly.
Joanne: He'll be here.
Another knock.
Joanne, smiling: Right about now. Come in!
Man from the first scene enters. He's breathing hard and shaking, rubbing his hands together through gloves with holes all through them. Stops suddenly and stares at Maureen.
Man, nervously: Hi. You…it's been awhile.
Joanne gets up: Mark, stop it. We're long past the time to be acting like this, you know it. She embraces him. He returns in quickly and with great relief.
Joanne, pointing to his pocket: What's that?
Mark: Oh…well, Roger was out of the hospital last week for a couple of days. He wanted me to film this. It's his song, you know. I thought you might like to see.
Joanne just nods quietly, pulling Mark to the couch. They sit. Mark turns slowly to Maureen, holding his breath.
Mark: So…how are things?
Maureen: Good. I'm…I'm okay. I'm just…no. I'm cold all the time, Mark. And there's no one there. She takes his hand, resting her head against his shoulder, first tensely but then with ease.
Mark leans forward slightly, pushing the video into the VCR. Man appears onscreen with guitar, starting the first chords of "Your Eyes".
Joanne looks over at Maureen on Mark's shoulder and smiles, doing the same on his other side. Mark exhales, sinking down on the couch comfortably. He looks towards the camera.
Mark: End scene.
Fade to black.
Disclaimer: All of these characters, backstories, and general ideas are Jonathan Larson's. Not mine.
