3 a.m.
No matter what she says to him, Joe remains completely unmoved. No matter how she pleads and cries and begs him to have mercy on her, he doesn't seem to hear her. Her physical attempts to stop him are overpowered. She can only watch helplessly with wide, crazed eyes as he packs the few possessions he came with in his shabby suitcase and walks out of her life. She is, for the first time in her life, completely powerless.
And for the first time in her life, Norma Desmond falters. She is gazing with desperate eyes at the revolver in her hand when a voice inside of her speaks up. It is a quiet, unmistakable voice, dignified and authoritative and unquestionably stronger than her. It bids her to collect herself and stand tall, even in the face of her pain. Who are you? it seems to demand. Remember.
"I am a star…" she hears herself declare. "The greatest star of them all."
Her eyes are large and blazing, focused on someplace far away. She is a star. And even though she's in her housecoat, even though her hair is a mess, even with the bandages on her face and the revolver in her hand and the tears in her eyes, there is no denying it. She is majestic, a Queen whose people have been waiting in the dark for long enough. Joe may say what he wants; nothing will change that. Those eyes, the ones that once inspired an ocean of fan letters, turn towards the door.
"And no one walks out on a star," she whispers. "That is what makes one a star."
Joe's footsteps echo loudly in the corridor. He must be about halfway down the grand staircase by now, he is not completely lost yet. She calmly exits the bedroom, the picture of poise and control, the revolver still clutched firmly in her grasp. She will make him stay with her somehow, but she will not fight or make herself a fool.
For great stars have great pride, and she will not compromise her pride any longer.
"Joe," she calls out, and she can see him over the banister. But he only keeps walking, not even turning his head. As if she had not even spoken.
"Joe?" she calls again, panic creeping into her careful façade of calm as she flies down the staircase. He is out the front door now, intent on cruelly denying her any more happiness or dreams. She doesn't want it to come to this, but she is running out of time and options.
"Joe!" she finally shrieks after him, all poise and control gone. It is a stranger who puts her finger on the trigger, and though shots ring out, they are a distant sound in her ears. Max comes running, for the first time completely at a loss, but she barely notices his presence. She doesn't even see the shock register on Joe's face as he topples helplessly into the pool. The only sight that fills her eyes is the morning sky, still covered with stars.
"Stars are ageless, aren't they," she breathes, the beauty of the scene overwhelming her. The breath of dawn is on her face, and the new morning shines on her like a spotlight. For 20 years she was living in the dark, but she knows the daylight is coming again soon. The cameras that were once so elusive will finally be on her once more, and it will be her greatest success. The one that will catapult her to the ageless stars.