COLLINS- "Welcome to Hell, Mark Cohen, the film maker." Chuckling as he goes to find a table.
(Mark begins to walk forward, but pauses when the girl he ran into on the streets earlier steps in front of him.)
GIRL- "Hey, baby. Haven't I seen you somwhere before?"
MARK- Shuffling his feet. He wasn't comfortable in clubs. Especially night clubs. "I've been around." Blushing. "The block." Growling. "Shit, I live around town. I walk a lot."
GIRL- Linking arms with Mark and leading him to the bar. "Hey, barkeep! A round for the cutie here."
MARK- "Oh, no, I really shouldn't...pausing and glancing at his captor. "You have gorgeous eyes." Blinking, abashed. "I'm sorry. That was upfront."
GIRL- "No, darling, it really wasn't." Reaching out to grab the cup the bartender slid her way and handing Mark the other one.
MARK- Smiling Bashfully. "Thanks." Taking a sip of the drink and finding that he enjoyed it.
MARK- "What is this?"
BARTENDER- "Stoli, mate." Spinning to tend to the customers on the other side of the bar table.
COLLINS- Sliding into the stool next to Mark, taking it for a spin. "Stoli, man. What'd I tell you?" Chuckling.
GIRL- "I should leave." Putting forth a slight pout.
MARK- "No...don't."
GIRL- "I didn't even give you my name, darling." Winking.
MARK- Flushing. "Oh."
COLLINS- "Oh, look at that, pretty boy!" Winking at Mark and jumping out of his seat and heading across the floor.
GIRL- "It's Maureen."
MARK- "It's a beautiful name." Blushing. "It fits a girl such as you." Eyes widening. "I didn't..."
MAUREEN- "It's okay, honey. Prostitute. I'm not afraid to say it. You shouldn't be either." Reaching out and taking a sip of her Stoli.
MARK- "It must be hard. Selling...(He couldn't even come to terms with the fact that a well put together woman such as Maureen was dirt poor and had to sell her body to survive.)
MAUREEN- "When you're low on cash, you'll pretty much do anyting." Frowning as the bartender goes to refill her and Mark's drink.
MARK- Pulling drink to his lips and downing it. "When you're low on cash, nothing is an option anymore."
MAUREEN- Raising right eyebrow. "You? But you're so...sexy."
MARK- Choking on his drink, getting a chuckle out of Maureen "You sure you're looking at me? I'm just your average Jewish filmmaker."
MAUREEN- "You're a cute Jew. And that compliment comes rarely." Waggling eyebrows as a way of teasing Mark, who is blushing beyond belief.
MARK- "Where do you live?" Sighing at his attempt at small talk.
MARUEEN- "Avenue A. Apartment C."
MARK- "Oh? I live...my friend...Apartment B."
MAUREEN- "Roger Davis? You know Roger Davis? How is he?"
MARK- "Fine..." Biting upper lip.
MAUREEN- "Still going through withdrawal?"
MARK- "Still? You mean again?"
MAUREEN- "Gosh, it must have been a while since I returned to my apartment. I'm always..."
MARK- Supplying. "Out?"
MAUREEN- "That's the best way of putting it. That and my family keeps insisting that I stay with them on random nights. Those nights I'm not on call, I'm at home. They won't give me money, but it's a place to sleep other than the shithole I live in."
MARK- "It can't be that bad. Apartment B is nice."
MAUREEN- "It depends on it's taker and keeper. I'm not much at keeping things straight. Especially when I know I'm not going to be home."
MARK- "You're not home alot." (Said in a matter-of-fact way.)
MAUREEN- "This job pays well only when the customer is allowed to take me where they want."
MARK- "There's no other way for you to get money?" (Said ruefully.)
MAUREEN- "I wish. Good sex gets me a hundred dollars a night. Times seven days a week...it's the best pay you'll get in this side of town." Shrugging listlessly.
MARK- "I'm sorry. I hate to see a gorgeous woman live her life in this hell."
MAUREEN- "Thanks, doll. That means a lot." Smiling and then frowning as her pager goes off. She pulls it off her pants, reads it, and sighs. "Duty calls."
MARK- Frowning and slightly cringing. "So go."
MAUREEN- Biting at lower lip. "Hey, bartend, you got a pen and a paper?"
BARTENDER- Ducking under counter and coming back up with said objects. "Got a number?" Winking.
MAUREEN- "Not tonight, Joe." Writing numbers on the paper and handing it to Mark.
MARK- Taking the paper, confused.
MAUREEN- "I had a nice time talking to you. It's not common for me to hand the number to the other, but in this case...it seems I'm to make the first move." Leaning in and giving Mark a peck on the cheek, winking as she slides off the stool and heads away.
MARK- Blushing, eyes wide, glasses slipping down the bridge of his nose. "Wow.
BARTENDER- "You got lucky there, son. Don't loose that." Disappearing under the counter as Mark tucks the paper away in his jacket pocket.
Throughout this scene, the camera has been over Mark's shoulder. When Mark's emotions are noted, the camera is over Maureen's shoulder. When the bartender is in action, the camera is between Maureen and Mark. At this, the camera switches to follow behind Collins who comes up behind Mark and gives him a little tap on the shoulder, making the movie maker jump, still in shock to the fact that he now has his (What the actor knows as the future girlfriend's) number in his pocket.
MARK- "Shit, Tom, don't do that!" Shaking head.
COLLINS- "Did I just see you tuck that girl's number safe into your pocket?" Sliding into stool that Maureen had sat upon.
MARK- "You did." Smiling as the bartender refills his drink and hands Collins a new one.
BARTENDER- "It's on Maureen, 'k, boys? Just...don't let her know." Biting tongue as he goes to tend to others.
COLLINS- "She's a gorgeous girl, Mark. But she's a whore."
MARK- "A prostitute."
COLLINS- "Which sounds better?"
MARK- "She was really sweet."
COLLINS- "That's how they bed, Mark. You aren't from this part of town, are you? Getting a nod from Mark. You have a lot to learn. But, first, to Stoli." Downing his drink in two seconds flat, whereas, Mark, only takes a sip. "Mark. To Stoli. Drink up. Get a buzz. Have some fun."
MARK- "Well...if we can get a taxi home...Tom, I'm no fun when I drink. I get wasted. I mean, wasted."
COLLINS- "So you have drank before? Lying you are not good at."
MARK- "The last time I drank was with Daniel. I haven't drank since."
COLLINS- "Oh. I understand." Pushing his empty cup to the edge of the counter. "Want to head back?"
MARK- Taking another swig of his drink, staring down at the liquid and blinking away the memories. "Nah. Let's have fun." Finishing up the drink and signalling for it to be refilled, into which it is quickly. "Forget the past. To living...to living." Clinking glasses with Collins and yet again downing his drink.
Camera angle at most times in this is like it is set down on the bar counter, looking up. (Not to the point where nosehairs can be seen, alas.) At this point, the camera cuts away, fades to a scene outside, where Collins and Mark walk the streets, drunk off their asses.)
MARK- Running slightly, and then skipping. "I haven't felt this good in ages!" Twirling to bump into Collins who falls against the wall, chuckling. (The two fall to the cement, Collins' bottle of Stoli falling out of his pocket.
MARK- "Did you..." Swallowing. "Steal." Blinking back a haze.
COLLINS- "Nah, the bartender thought I was cute." Laughing rather loudly. "We have to go, Mark." Standing and facing Mark, who has begun to look like he is going to be sick. "If you're going to...not on the shoes. They're leather."
MARK- Coughing. "I don't feel so well." Retching.
COLLINS- Leaning down and pulling Mark up by his right arm, pinning him against the wall. "You've got to...walk now. We have to walk. Taxi's don't run this late."
MARK- "The time...?"
COLLINS- "Well past two a.m."
MARK- Groaning and closing his eyes. "Just leave me here to die."
COLLINS- "You're not a good drunk."
MARK- Staring at him wide eyed, and then regretting the strain of muscles. "Fuck."
COLLINS- Pulling Mark next to him, wrapping his arm around his waist and pushing him to walk. "You were right when you said you got wasted. But you didn't tell me that four cups would do it." Chuckling as Mark stumbles to match his pace.
MARK- "I'm weak. Your weak movie director. Just your average person." Sighing.
COLLINS- "Marcus, you are indeed not average. No average man gets drunk off four tiny cups of Stoli." Chuckling, again.
MARK- "Just get me into a bed." Leaning his head against Collins' shoulder, murmuring softly.
Camera angle throughout this has been across from the boys. At this, the angle fades to Collins leading Mark to his bed, helping him settle into it, and disappearing out the door. It is now daylight when the camera fades in again. The light can be seen streaming through the window. Mark awakens, blinking his eyes and groaning at the light.
MARK- Rolling over, moaning and groaning, the effects of last night's drinking catching up to him. "Holy shit." Rubbing his eyes and blinking. "Who turned on the sun?"
ROGER- Looking up from the end of the bed. "Morning, sleepyhead.
MARK- Easily startled, he rolls off the bed, taking the sheets with him. With the sheets comes Roger, rolling down next to him.
ROGER- Restructuring himself and pulling himself to a sitting position, leaning against the bed as Mark steadies himself and leans against the wall. "I didn't mean to startle you."
MARK- "Roger...again I say, Holy shit. What the hell are you doing in the room?"
ROGER- "Collins said you weren't feeling well. I got worried."
COLLINS- Walking in from the hallway. "Wasted from four cups. Barely a bottle."
ROGER- Snorting. "Hey, man, you're not one to talk. You're clean as a whistle, and from what I could tell, from the smell, you had two."
COLLINS- "I know how to handle myself. Mark...rather new to Stoli, man."
MARK- Looking from Collins to Roger and back again. "The girl...please tell me that I wasn't hallucinating."
ROGER- "A girl!" Softly thumping his hand on Mark's knee.
MARK- "Ow!"
ROGER- "I barely touched you, you twat."
COLLINS- "The prostitute? Oh, no, honey. She was real. Check your jacket pocket." Throwing Mark his jacket, into which Roger catches it, plays a little, and then eventually hands it to Mark, who reaches into every pocket, and then pulls out a slip of paper with Maureen's number on it.
MARK- "Holy shit."
ROGER- "We get it. Shit is holy. Now who's the girl?"
MARK- "Just a girl I met. Maureen." Smiling at her name.
ROGER- "Collins, you say she was a prostitute?"
COLLINS- "From what I heard, daily, nightly, middaily, afternoonly..." Chuckling as Mark growls raspily low in the throat. "She took quite an interest to our little film maker." Half-smiling.
ROGER- Whistling. "Seems that getting that one night stand out hath improved our Marky." (Said in a mother's cooing voice.)
MARK- "Still on that, are we?" (Said testily.)
Camera angle remains as this: When Mark speaks, over his shoulder. When Roger speaks, from the side, taking in both Collins and Mark's profiles. And when Collins speaks, it's over his shoulder. Got it? Good. Camera angles have yet to get confusing, dearlings.
MARK- Slowly getting to his feet, using the sill to steady himself. "Look, it's not a big deal. I talk to women...a lot." (Said to be an obvious lie.)
ROGER- "And I'm not a heroin addict."
MARK- Glaring at Roger.
ROGER- "Okay, then. I'm not a heroin addict striving to restrain from jamming the needle into his vain. You lie, I lie. I can dance all night, Film maker."
MARK- "Look, can't we talk about this, you know, when I'm not hungover and about to puke my guts out?" (Said slowly to hold back all gags.)
ROGER- "Sure. But we are talking about it." Standing, heading towards Collins, giving Mark one last look, and exiting the room.
COLLINS- "Get some rest. Don't close your eyes, though. And drink a lot of water. I've left a bottle on the table in the living room. I'm going to take Roger out. You need to be alone." Nodding and heading out, called back by Mark.
MARK- "How are you not stone cold drunk?"
COLLINS- "As I said, I know how to handle myself." Exiting.
MARK- "Drunk. Oh, the pain." Standing and stumbling over to the door, catching onto the latches to steady himself. "Stone cold out of my mind unable to comprehend society drunk." Sighing as head stumbles into the bathroom, slamming the door behind him. The camera angle remains on the bathroom door, picking up on slight sounds of Mark returning everything he had in his stomach to the world.)
The door opens, and the camera angle zooms in on Mark's face, paler than before. (What, you didn't think he could get paler? Wrong!)
MARK- Running his hands down his cheeks as he walks into the living room, falling onto the couch after pulling the bottle of water to his mouth, downing it quickly. "Cold."
The camera is a view from across the table, zooming in when neccessary. Mark jumps when Benny exits from Roger's room and enters into the living room, jaw dropping as he sees his friend slumped onto the couch.
The usual. Benny speaks, it's over his shoulder. Mark speaks...well, this time...it's over the couch. But you get my point. Action!
BENNY- "What the hell happened to you?" Blinking.
MARK- "Collins. A bottle of Stoli. Not much to say."
BENNY- "You got drunk? Not only is that amazing, but what's even more is that..."
MARK- Rolling his eyes. "I got drunk off a bottle. Yeah, yeah. Heard it. I'm weak. What's new?"
BENNY- "You're not weak. This is your first time, buddy. No one masters it the first time." Sitting down on coffee table.
MARK- "It wasn't my first time." (Said in a mumble.)
BENNY- "Come again?"
MARK- "It wasn't my first time."
BENNY- "You've been drunk before?"
MARK- "With Daniel."
BENNY- "Oh."
MARK- "It was the only way I could sustain in the end." (Said quietly.)
BENNY- "I'm assuming you mean the other nights?"
MARK- "Yes." (Said sternly.)
BENNY- Smiling somberly and standing, grabbing the bottle and walking over to the kitchen sink, refilling it and tossing it back to Mark, who catches it lighthandedly. "Good to see your hand-eye cordination remains intact." Sniffling.
MARK- "It comes from holding a camera...well...yeah."
BENNY- Raising both eyebrows. "Indeed." Eyes remain widened.
MARK- "He wanted it on tape." Shrugging as if that memory is nothing but a memory.
BENNY- "What did you ever do with the reel?"
MARK- "Recorded over it. Some soap. Anything to erase the memories."
BENNY- "Mark, the memories are in your mind. Not on film."
MARK- "I know. I know." Yet again rubbing his eyes.
(Benny proceeds to sit down on the coffee table again.)
BENNY- "You need to talk?"
MARK- "No. I'm fine."
BENNY- Going to speak, but thinking against it.
MARK- "Despite the drunk factor, Collins really helped me out last night. Thanks for heeding Roger out of the apartment."
BENNY- "No problem. I knew you needed some time to work things out. You didn't want to loose Roger. And I know as well as you do how short-tempered you can be."
MARK- "It's the Jew in me." Giggling drunkenly, stopping as he realizes the giggle.
BENNY- "C'mon. You up for some breakfast?"
MARK- Blanching.
BENNY- "Oh, yeah. Sorry."
MARK- "Not your problem. Just keep Stoli away from me for a long while."
BENNY- Standing. "You should get out. Locking yourself away is going to do you no good." Reaching out and taking Mark by the arm, urging him to stand, despite his protests. Mark stands uneasily, sways, and then finds his balance.
MARK- "Keep me close to...home." (Said as if the word is new to him. Home. Hooomee. Home. Test it out. Have fun with it. But don't go overboard. Rememer, he's drunk. Not impaired.)
BENNY- "Will do." Pulling Mark gently with him to the door, holding the door open, and jokingly pushing him out.