12:09 PM on SATURDAY

[MAC knocks on Charlie's door and taps his foot as he waits for it to open. FRANK greets him with a low grunt and stands aside as MAC enters, clearly pissed. CHARLIE'S on the couch, eating Cheetos and watching some nature channel show intently]

CHARLIE: Hey, dude! What took you so long? I thought you were gonna come by like an hour ago? [he says, messily licking the cheese powder off his fingers]

MAC: I walked here. [he mumbles almost inaudibly, trying to ignore Charlie's complete disregard for hygiene or manners]

CHARLIE: From your apartment? That's like . . . a ton of miles, bro! Why didn't you just take the bus or something?

MAC: It only took an hour. I'm not going to risk getting thrown up on by a junkie in a cramped bus if it's not absolutely pouring out. Actually, no, I'd rather listen to Dennis scream for an hour in my ear rather than have that happen.

CHARLIE: Isn't that why you're here and not there in the first place, though?

MAC: [shrugs] I guess so. But I'm saying if it was that or being covered in vomit.

CHARLIE: Oh, yeah. [he nods understandingly and pops another few Cheetos into his mouth] So what happened between you two, anyway? I thought those brain pills were working.

MAC: I don't think he's even taking them. I mean if he has he'd be better by now, right? Like those outbursts wouldn't be as bad or something. And he wouldn't be starving himself either, probably. Maybe he'd listen to me too . . . [by now he'd sat down next to CHARLIE, lying back against a couch cushion and crossing his legs] I don't know, man, I'm just kinda worried that one day he's gonna die or something and I'm not gonna be around to ask God if he could reconsider sending Dennis to hell, even though he totally deserves to have the Devil kick his ass.

CHARLIE: But if he's been such a dickwad to you why would you wanna save him from getting what's coming to him?

MAC: He— I don't think he realizes how bad a person he is.

CHARLIE: That makes zero sense, dude.

MAC: [looking up at the stained ceiling and sighing softly] I know.

CHARLIE: [chews silently for a moment] So, you wanna go to the park and help me collect spy coins?

MAC: [somewhat distant] Yeah, sure.


12:34 PM on SATURDAY

[CHARLIE is shown fully clothed and soaking wet as he sits on the edge of the PARK FOUNTAIN while he sorts through a handful of quarters. Pan over to MAC who's sitting alone on the edge of a PARK BENCH not far from the FOUNTAIN, leaning forward with his hands in his lap, watching CHARLIE trying to count the stolen coins. A few seconds later, a total BEEFCAKE, looking to be in his early 30's, six and a half feet tall, and entirely made of muscle, approaches MAC and follows his line of sight, joining MAC in watching CHARLIE jump back into the shallow water.]

BEEFCAKE: He knows he's not supposed to swim in that, right? [he says, not looking away from CHARLIE as he sits down next to MAC, who barely notices him]

MAC: Yeah. But it's better than him chasing after the pigeons 'cause then he just starts screaming at full volume.

BEEFCAKE: [chuckles] You're joking, right?

MAC: Nope.

BEEFCAKE: [turns to look at MAC who's now fully invested in trying to figure out what CHARLIE has in his hands] He your little brother or something?

MAC: Charlie? No, no way. I'm just bunking with him since I left my and Dennis' apartment.

BEEFCAKE: [raises and eyebrow, interested, and swings a leg over the other to put his arm against the back of the bench, his hand resting casually behind MAC's neck] Well, if you ever get bored of hanging out with him, how's about you come check out this kickass bar with me sometime. The food's great, the drinks are cheap; you seem like the kind a guy who'd love it there. [leans his head back and closes his eyes, basking in the sunlight]

MAC: [finally turns to the BEEFCAKE at the words "drinks" and "cheap" and stops before answering as he realizes just how attractive this guy is.] Uh . . . [blinks] sure, yeah. That sounds great, actually.

BEEFCAKE: [rolls his head sideways to look MAC in the eye with a grin] Sweet. You free tomorrow night?

MAC: Tomorrow? Yeah, should be. [he tightens his grip on his knees subconsciously]

BEEFCAKE: What's your number? [MAC stares, confused] You know, so I can text you the address and time and shit.

MAC: Oh, yeah, right. It's, uh . . . [watches the BEEFCAKE lift up his hips to pull his phone out of his back pocket] it's 484-555-9879.

BEEFCAKE: [keeps his eyes on the screen as he enters the digits] What's your name, anyway?

MAC: Oh, I'm Mac.

BEEFCAKE: [phone beeps, signaling a successfully saved contact, and he meets MAC's mildly anxious gaze] I'm Tom. Nice to meet you, Mac. [reassuring, kind smile]

MAC: Yeah, likewise. [he starts palming his right knee as he looks at TOM with a lazy smile]

CHARLIE: [suddenly, still searching the FOUNTAIN floor for more change] Hey, Mac! I think I'm good here! [looks toward MAC for a response and sees how close TOM is leaning toward MAC] Who's this? [swings a leg over the FOUNTAIN's wall and starts walking toward the two men]

MAC: [somewhat flustered] Oh, uh . . . this's Tom, he's, uh . . .

BEEFCAKE: Hey, you're Charlie, right? [talks slowly as if to a child] Mac told me you were looking for spy coins. What's the spy for? You on the run from the mafia or something?

CHARLIE: [looks nervously between MAC and the BEEFCAKE] No, no. This is just for, like, rainy days, you know? So I can—

MAC: [obviously trying to end the conversation] But you've got enough, right?

CHARLIE: [looks down at the dripping coins in his hands] Yeah, I think so—

MAC: How about we go get lunch, then? [stands up, brushing knees with the BEEFCAKE, who's lying comfortably against the bench with an amused grin, causing MAC's face to get just a tiny bit redder]

CHARLIE: Yeah, I mean if you're hungry—

MAC: Sweet, so let's go, dude. [puts a hand on CHARLIE's shoulder to steer him away from the bench and the BEEFCAKE]

BEEFCAKE: See you tomorrow, Mac! [small wave and a big grin]

[MAC, attempting to turn a distracted CHARLIE's eyes from the BEEFCAKE to the intersection in front of them, keeps his body tense as if walking on coals. CHARLIE returns the BEEFCAKE's smile and wave mockingly before turning and stuffing the coins into his pocket.]


12:42 PM on SATURDAY

[MAC and CHARLIE walk into an almost empty PIZZERIA, MAC leading and CHARLIE not far behind. MAC browses what's on display and orders two large slices of pepperoni. They stand waiting at the counter for a moment in silence before CHARLIE speaks.]

CHARLIE: So, what was that all about?

MAC: You mean at the park? I don't know.

CHARLIE: Dude. [he tilts his head and raises his eyebrows]

MAC: What do you want me to say, Charlie?

CHARLIE: Maybe admit that you shouldn't be hanging out with such a dick.

MAC: Yeah, well I— Wait, what?

CHARLIE: He talked to me like I was a kid! That's not the kinda guy you want in your bed.

MAC: [defensively] First off, I'd never let that guy anywhere near my bed . . . where'd you even get the idea that I would? [clearly offended; CHARLIE shrugs] And second— [he pays for their food while balancing both paper plates on his left arm] I didn't get that from him at all.

CHARLIE: Maybe [he takes one of the plates from Mac] that's cause you were so concentrated on hiding your hard-on from the guy.

MAC: [slightly high-pitched and incredulous] What are you talking about? How many times do I have to tell you that I don't . . . I'm not . . . You know.

CHARLIE: Know what?

MAC: Dude, we're in public.

CHARLIE: No, man. I think it's a perfectly good time to bring up your very clear interest in dudes.

MAC: No, Charlie, look—

CHARLIE: Goddammit, bro! Every single time you try to change the subject and I'm sick of hearing you lie! Just admit you're gay so we can get past this.

MAC: But I'm not—

CHARLIE: Then why did you try to kiss Dennis that time, huh? Why'd you have us rub tanning oil all over those bodybuilders on Mac Day? You lying to yourself all the time is getting fucking annoying, bro!

MAC: [eyes shifting back and forth among the few, uninterested people around them] Can we talk about this back at your place or something, cause I'm not feeling too good.

CHARLIE: Yeah, fine. But don't try to weasel your way out of this when we get there.