Act 3, Scene 21

Brock walks through the door to his apartment. It's an enormous place and completely barren, a little like Mary-Jane's.

BROCK: Celine? You here?

A woman storms out of the bedroom. She's carrying a suitcase. It's the same woman we saw in the picture in Brock's car – the one hanging on his arm with all the romantic feeling of lichen on a rock.

BROCK: What are you doing?

CELINE: Taking my suitcase for a coffee. What do you think? I'm leaving you.

BROCK: But – Celine, what about the wedding?

CELINE: Okay newsflash; hottest journalist in New York proposes to you, you say yes. Laughing stock of New York engaged to you, you run.

BROCK: I'll give you time.

CELINE: (opening the front door)I'll give you a restraining order. Do yourself and me a favour, Eddie; get the hell out of the city and stay out. And here's a tip – I'd do it before your first month's rent is due on this place.

BROCK: (almost in tears)But…none of this is my fault…!

CELINE: No, it isn't. It never is your fault, Eddie. You're one of life's passengers, and it's not enough for me anymore. I want to go somewhere. Starting right now with me going out of this apartment.

She pauses halfway through the doorway.

CELINE: Goodbye Eddie. Thanks for everything.

EDDIE: No, wait!

But she slams the door shut in his face. He stands with his forehead pressed against it for a moment, hardly able to believe what is happening to him. Eventually he turns and walks to the window to look out over New York.

The door raps. Eddie bounds over to it.

EDDIE: Celine? Celine, I-

It's not Celine. It's Peter Parker, hands on either side of the doorframe, looking like a demon in the darkness. His eyes glint unnaturally.

PETER: Hello, Eddie.

His fist lashes out, and the world goes black.