B: Hi, Rachel. Come in.
Brody leads Rachel to a small sofa in the common area of his dorm suite. They sit turned to face each other.
B: Where have you been?
R: Physically, Lima. Emotionally, Hell. But I made it back from both. I exercised my freedom and ended the pain.
B: And now you're here.
R: (Looking around the room) That remains to be seen. I'm not exactly sure where I am. (Suddenly straight into his eyes) You seem more nervous than I am.
B: I've been worried I'd never get to really be with you again, and now I'm worried you've come to declare total independence.
R: (Smiling shyly) I didn't come here with any specific intention in mind. Being free means I can choose whatever I want, and I need to be sure what that is. I do know I found it impossible to stop thinking about you, even when Finn was here. I'm not sure if that had anything to do with my breaking up with him. Or if he snuck back to Lima because he felt I had in some way already left him for you. But why do you want me? There are plenty of prettier girls at NYADA you can have.
B: Prettier, maybe, but not as beautiful. The difference is profound. "How do I love thee? Let me count the ways..."
R: Come on, you don't love me.
B: That's true…certainly…probably…possibly. But you're the first girl I've met that I thought I could someday feel that way about. And now that you're free, any games either of us might have been playing are over, the stakes are much higher, and it really is scary.
R: (Laughs slightly mockingly) So, the handsome Lothario, infamous throughout lower Manhattan as a predator of ingénues, is suddenly scared of a squawking nightingale fresh from the nest.
B: (Somewhat annoyed) There were precisely two before you, and whatever they might have appeared to be to outsiders, they had both been screwing like rabbits since frosh year in high school, so neither were ingénues. And neither are you, so please drop the mask.
R: (Angrily) Then I'm just another slut?
B: Don't be ridiculous. A woman's not an ingénue or a slut, a madonna or a whore. I just mean that you're not an innocent, not physically, not emotionally, not artistically. You've had intensive sex for months, you've loved and been loved truly, you've performed for large audiences under the intense pressure of competition, and you well know you're the best singer in the best dramatic arts school in the country. It's time to take full ownership of who you are.
R: (Undecided between assuming an expression of affront or pleasure, Rachel chooses feigned anger.) Are you accusing me of acting conceited, boastful, superior, entitled? Or what?
B: I'm not talking about your behavior, which has been impeccable, by the way. I'm talking about self-knowledge, about knowing, knowing the same obvious, audible truth that everyone at NYADA knows. There's no way you can't know. You couldn't sing the way you do without knowing and believing. And everyone at NYADA knows, especially after Carmen's story got out about Broadway-level performances at Nationals so sensational they overcame the botched audition and the stalking.
R: Ok, maybe some of that seductive BS. But if what you say is even half-true, why was it so difficult for me at the beginning? Why the hazing from Cassandra, why the coldness from the other students?
B: The faculty is hardening you to survive in the dog-eat-dog world of showbiz. Bigger talents than you couldn't hack it. They want you to be a star because they think you have it. Reflected glory and donations from successful alumni are always welcome. As to the students, they are mostly terrified, or gay boys talented enough to pass for straight, or both.
R: (Genuinely surprised) I simply can't grasp or even imagine the "terrified" of me bit. I spent most of my high school years terrified of shadows. At least it's been better recently. I've started to feel accepted here.
B: Yes, I've seen it, and it's great.
R: And what about big, brave, Brody? Are you so arrogant, so conceited, so fearless, that you alone dare hit on the scary Berry babe?
B: (Laughing) Wow! Witty and sexy. With alliteration and rhyme. No wonder I can't keep away. But I'm not any of the things you suggest. I just made a simple risk/benefit analysis and figured that even the shortest time with someone like you, no matter how high the maintenance and how hard the fall, is better than no time at all.
R: (Beaming) You're sweet. A shrewd liar, but sweet.
B: Now I have to be not so sweet. Something has been bugging me, and it's this: you lied to Finn about what was happening between us in the loft.
R: (Quizzically, but calmly) What did you think was happening, and how in the world could you possibly know what I told him?
B: Please. We both know damn well what was happening. Keep your "machine well-oiled"? Who are you, Kathleen Turner in Body Heat? I've been around, and not just with fake ingénues. Dirty dancing, pursed lips, ravenous kisses, sensuous touches, and pulling me down on top of you is passionate sexual foreplay, not the start of a junior high make-out session. Finn would never have behaved the way he did toward me at Callbacks if you'd told him anything close to that. But he was suspicious, and he's no fool, so he devised a test by asking us to sing together so he could judge our body and facial language. It's out of Hamlet. We were busted. Did you even try to hide it?
Rachel looks up at the ceiling, but it's much lower than in her loft and she suddenly feels claustrophobic. There's only one way out.
R: Yes, I had decided to sleep with you that night. I couldn't hurt Finn by telling him everything directly, but I wanted him to have no doubt that someone like you could want me. I wanted him to see it and know it. I was not going to be taken for granted by him ever again.
(Affectionately) I guess you're not as dumb as you look.
B: (Smiling) I look dumb?
R: Only stereotypically, like a pretty blond in a cheerleader's uniform, even if she's an honor-roll student. And you're even prettier than Quinn.
B: Who's Quinn? You aren't…
R: (Laughing hard, then giggling) No, no, not in the least, although I have had offers.
B: No doubt. But it's time to get back to why you're here and why I'm so glad you are. You've left Lima for good, freely and free, and wanted to come over. So what else remains to be seen?
Long pause. Rachel studies Brody's face as though she'd never seen him before.
R: (Relaxed, speaking very slowly) You've made me feel naked and exposed, but not afraid. I trust you.
B: (Gazing at Rachel with bedroom eyes) I wish you were really naked; I would kiss all of you.
Uncomfortable silence, with wry smiles.
B: Sorry, I went too far.
R: Take me to bed.
Much later. The spent lovers spoon.
B: Poor Finn.
R: Since when are you concerned about hurting Finn?
B: Since I met him and found out he was a decent man who really loved you. Anyway, all guys are brothers, members of a universal fraternity, even when they're blowing each other's guts out on a battlefield.
R: Do you feel guilty? That you blew out a brother's guts? That you won a "famous victory"?
B: Not at all. There was no battle. I didn't win. He beat himself. And you know, I could ask the same question of you. Was it a victory for you? Was it revenge sex?
R: Revenge sex? For me this was sex sex, why-we-all-exist sex. And with you, it went way beyond that. I get weak in the knees when you just look at me. I have been literally in physical pain for the lack of you. I've never experienced that before.
Rachel rolls around to face him, and keeps rolling to force him onto his back with her on top, face down and pressed against him. She grabs his wrists, spreads his arms crucifix-fashion, and breathes hot words into into his ear, with the exquisite phrasing of a song.
R: Whenever I have trouble falling asleep, I touch myself and imagine you are there with your tongue between my legs, making my wings flutter, like you did tonight. It never fails to work. I always smile and sleep like a baby.
Rachel's intimate confession has the expected effect, and Brody's once weary flaccidity stiffens. Rachel lifts, shifts, and rotates her pelvis until she's able to swallow her prey just enough to have it precisely positioned and pressuring her favored spot. She hisses in his ear.
R: Don't move!
Rachel feels Brody's heat along the entire length of her body, from her extended toes to her fingertips. Her softness molds itself around the hardness of his bones and muscles and cock. Eyes tightly shut, and with almost imperceptible movements, Rachel presses, flexes, and slides until the tickling chill begins in her groin and bursts in a shock wave that blasts her mind out of her brain. After several minutes, her breathing settles back to its normal depth and rate and she reverse rolls to reclaim her position as the inside spoon.
Brody, somewhat stunned and swollen of heart, wishes he could tell Rachel he loves her, but knows such sentiments might not last until dawn and certainly wouldn't be echoed. He caresses her for a while and, in a smiling voice, accuses.
B: You raped me.
R: (Smugly) Then we're even.
B: (Teasingly) And I bet you'll ravish me again and again until you run off with a Broadway producer and toss me in the gutter like a used condom.
R: How did you know? But while I'm waiting for Mr. Big, no offense to you or yours, I hope you'll continue to be as considerate, supportive, tender, and funny as ever. I left out "honest", because I can't be absolutely certain of that yet. Sorry.
B: I solemnly swear to always tell you the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth. You deserve that. You know, I've never met anyone who was anything like you, even in bed. Hell, especially in bed. I thought for a moment you were going to devour me.
R: (Kisses the arm that hugs her.) Thanks. I live for applause. Be sure to recommend my show to your family, friends, and neighbors. But don't worry about my devouring you. I'm not a preying mantis who bites off the male's head after copulation. The only head of yours I can take in my mouth, and that just barely, is one I would never harm. In fact, I feel very protective of it, always wanting to make sure it's safe and tucked into my snug, warm waterbed. (Giggles shamelessly at her own joke.)
B: (Slaps her ass.) You've a very dirty mind.
R: You don't know the half of it.
B: I want to know the all of it. (Tightening his hug) Mmmm, I could get used to this. I could fall for you.
R: Too late. You're already a dead man walking.
B: Yes, I accept my fate, but I hope my last meal will be you. In the meantime, …
R: In the meantime, we'll try to love each other without calling it that. But no promises or prenup. Deal?
B: Deal.
Rachel slides slowly out of Brody's arms and is very soon asleep on her stomach. He rests a hand delicately on her shoulder blade, inhales the scents of her hair and neck, and lies awake another hour, admiring her beauty in the slight glimmer of moonlight that somehow trickles through the dirt on the window, and wonders whether and where she'll take him.
The end.