07-05-2014, 04:17 AM
The scene opens in Danvers, Massachusetts. It's been a rainy day in the Northeast, as Tropical Storm Arthur passes through, ferociously spitting on the Commonwealth. The camera spans the area, showing, well, not much of anything. A Home Depot can be seen in the distance, sitting silently across the highway as rain abuses it. Next to it sits Target, still housing seemingly hundreds of shoppers, each of which is looking for a bargain of a deal at a bargain of a foot-traffic rate, due to the storm outside. Connected to Target sits a Buffalo Wild Wings, an AMC movie theater, and a Best Buy. Basically, this is suburbia at its finest.
Across Route 128 sits Laser Quest. Planted on a hill, it overlooks the retail chain paradise below, casting a a shadow over its neighbors... a shadow that only exists due to its height, and in no way due to its incredibly revenues. No no, Laser Quest is a faltering business tailored towards the worst possible consumer base: kids. They have no money, no jobs, and short attention spans. When economic times are tough, their parents get laid off, and laser tag is the first thing to get the ax. When kid grow up, they go on dates... they commit themselves to their future careers... they concern themselves with their new, much more interesting hobbies... and their high scores in a game of lasers and sweaty rubber abdomen fortresses take a back seat.
So here, considering the dearth of people in this area, is where we find Tony Santos. Not just Tony Santos, but the woman who he has not been able to detach himself from. The woman who, despite his incredibly distasteful and repulsive qualities, has stayed around through thick and thin. The woman who has clung to his side...
The mother of the child that Tony barely knows: Laura.
See, Tony has a three year old son who he barely makes contact with, and this is by design. The kid's name is Troy, and for Tony, it's a kid he wishes didn't exist. A kid he wishes Laura had aborted three years ago.
Santos: Why are we up here?
Laura: You know damn well why we're up here. You and I got a little rowdy three years ago and I produced a kid because of it. Since then, you've been nonexistent. A total ghost in our lives. You've spent your time as a wrestler, whether it be down in Rhode Island, up in New Hampshire or New York, or traveling the country in that current... place... you're at. I want to talk.
Tony shakes his head and smiles. He's heard that line far too many times from women during his brief two-and-a-half decades on this earth. "I want to talk." Typically, that means that the woman wants to break up... hoping to move on to greater things as she severs the ties of a relationship. Not in this case... nope. Tony conceived a child with this woman, so he was stuck. Stuck like a laser beam to the chest of some child inside the building adjacent to Tony and Laura. Stuck like a...
Santos: Like flies on shit, that's who you and I are. This is really what we're doing? This is what this conversation is all about?About how awful of a god damn father I've been? About how much of a fucking magician I've been in you and Troy's lives? Shit, that's what we're getting in to?
Laura drops her head as she smirks. Her long, black hair droops over her face, its tips extending as far as they can toward the damp pavement. Rain patters against the concrete, while at the same time smacking against the roof of Laser Quest. Excess rain flows down the gutters surrounding the building, landing in a hastily constructed plastic aquifer of sorts, resulting in their flowing down the man-made surface and toward soil. Laura, however, does not shed any additional fluids. She simply stares at the ground, in disbelief of the fact that she, 1) made her way to a random, practically abandoned parking lot in northeastern Massachusetts to talk to her baby's father, and 2) was in fact trying to reconnect with her baby's drunken, reckless father.
Laura: You haven't changed a bit, Tony, have you? You're the same asshole who approached me when we were in our early-20s. The same guy who hit on me in a bar in fucking Chelsea of all places. You were clearly broke, sitting at a hole-in-the-wall in a dumpy part of Boston, and I was some girl looking for... something. And you found me. Oh, you you found me. And you finding me was the worst thing that ever happened to me, clearly. We had a child together, and you disappeared. You disappeared quicker than a cheetah in a...
Tony holds his right index finger up to Laura's red lips. Her lips aren't lipstick-covered lips, mind you. No, Laura has luscious, naturally red lips to go along with her pale skin and black hair, and Tony was loving the chance to once again touch her. Once again feel her face. Once again...
...control her.
Santos: That did happen, my lady. But, why did it happen? Did you ever consider that? Did you ever consider that it wasn't something solely predicated on physical attraction? Did you ever think that it had something to do with the fact that we were both sitting in a bar in one of the worst parts of Boston, discussing our lives as privileged, white assholes amongst some less than fortunate Chelseaites? Did you ever consider the fact that yes, you, were also a privileged white asshole? The one whom people in that bar were clearly growing to dislike just as much as me?
That's why we got along so well that fateful night. Because you and I connected. We had a similar purpose then and there, and it just so happened to turn in to a drunken hump session in the back of the Dunkin' Donuts you worked at. That was us, and you were just as guilty as me. You know what our motives were. We weren't looking to connect on any deep, emotional level. We hadn't found our requisite soulmates! Your whole reason for including me in your life is based off of the bullshit idea that our relationship was anything more than a good fucking after a night at the bar! The foundation for our relationship is built on fucking shifting sands.
Laura grins as she lifts her own finger up to Tony's mouth. A mouth that was used to talking, and in no way used to stopping. Laura's index finger sinks slightly against Tony's skin, as the gap in his teeth allows for his upper lip to sink in like quicksand. Tony smiles, allowing Laura's finger to sink in to Tony's mouth before being yanked out. He presses his hand against his chest and starts making a pounding motion as the rain around them stops.
Santos: Do you hear that, Laura? Do you? That's the sound of my heart beating, It's not beating for you. It's not beating for Troy. It's beating for Tony Santos. Does that sound incredibly self-centered? You're damn right it does. But... my darling, this is me. This is the pace in which I live. This is the beat to which I drum. Honey bee, this is the heart of Tony Santos.
This is the man you've been hoping to find. The father you've been trying to understand. You wanna know why...
Laura: I know why...
Tony smiles, pressing his entire hand against Laura's mouth. As his left hand muzzles Laura, his right rests on his chest. Tony lifts every finger except his middle finger off of his body, and he begins to trace a circle around his heart with his middle finger.
Santos: See this, Laur?
Laura grimaced as Tony called her by a pet name that she disliked. She disliked it even more coming from the man who abandoned her and her child.
Santos: Do you? See, in reality, what's really here is a void. A complete and utter void where one of the most vital organs in my body should be. The beating heart, literally, of my body, controlling my physical needs, as well as, well, figuratively speaking, holding my hopes, dreams, and ability to love...
...ain't here. There's nothing here for me to love. That beating heart I was just talking about? The "beating heart" of Tony Santos is my fucking ego. That allows me to love myself. It allows me to block out everything around me and not feel any sort of loss or unmet needs. My own ego and narcissism is my drug. It numbs the pain and allows me to push on for another day. And here's the kicker! There's no bitching hangover the next day! It's perfect! And that, that is why I haven't...
Laura abruptly slaps down Tony's hand from her mouth. She looks at him with not so much angry eyes as... concerned ones. She attempts to speak, but can only manage to turn her head away enough to avoid Tony's image. A gust of wind picks up... the type of wind that precedes a bout of rain. And, as if on cue, the rain begins to fall. Laura picks herself up, brushes off the butt portion of her blue jeans, straightens her rain jacket, and walks to her car: a 2011 Black Toyota Venza. Her white Pumas scrape against the wet pavement, rain drops sink in to her hair, breaking and oozing down her head like yolk from a freshly broken egg.
Tony follows, lifting himself off of the ground and attempting to catch up with the woman who he has just so blatantly told he doesn't care for. Noticing this, Laura stops, her back still turned to Tony, and stretches a straight arm back at Tony.
Laura: Don't come with me. I'm taking this ride alone.
Tony frowns.
Santos: Laur, it's starting to pour and I'm in fucking Danvers, Massachusetts. There are no cabs. How the hell am I supposed to get home?
Laura lets out a brief chuckle.
Laura: Let your ego guide you home.
The scene fades to black.
Across Route 128 sits Laser Quest. Planted on a hill, it overlooks the retail chain paradise below, casting a a shadow over its neighbors... a shadow that only exists due to its height, and in no way due to its incredibly revenues. No no, Laser Quest is a faltering business tailored towards the worst possible consumer base: kids. They have no money, no jobs, and short attention spans. When economic times are tough, their parents get laid off, and laser tag is the first thing to get the ax. When kid grow up, they go on dates... they commit themselves to their future careers... they concern themselves with their new, much more interesting hobbies... and their high scores in a game of lasers and sweaty rubber abdomen fortresses take a back seat.
So here, considering the dearth of people in this area, is where we find Tony Santos. Not just Tony Santos, but the woman who he has not been able to detach himself from. The woman who, despite his incredibly distasteful and repulsive qualities, has stayed around through thick and thin. The woman who has clung to his side...
The mother of the child that Tony barely knows: Laura.
See, Tony has a three year old son who he barely makes contact with, and this is by design. The kid's name is Troy, and for Tony, it's a kid he wishes didn't exist. A kid he wishes Laura had aborted three years ago.
Santos: Why are we up here?
Laura: You know damn well why we're up here. You and I got a little rowdy three years ago and I produced a kid because of it. Since then, you've been nonexistent. A total ghost in our lives. You've spent your time as a wrestler, whether it be down in Rhode Island, up in New Hampshire or New York, or traveling the country in that current... place... you're at. I want to talk.
Tony shakes his head and smiles. He's heard that line far too many times from women during his brief two-and-a-half decades on this earth. "I want to talk." Typically, that means that the woman wants to break up... hoping to move on to greater things as she severs the ties of a relationship. Not in this case... nope. Tony conceived a child with this woman, so he was stuck. Stuck like a laser beam to the chest of some child inside the building adjacent to Tony and Laura. Stuck like a...
Santos: Like flies on shit, that's who you and I are. This is really what we're doing? This is what this conversation is all about?About how awful of a god damn father I've been? About how much of a fucking magician I've been in you and Troy's lives? Shit, that's what we're getting in to?
Laura drops her head as she smirks. Her long, black hair droops over her face, its tips extending as far as they can toward the damp pavement. Rain patters against the concrete, while at the same time smacking against the roof of Laser Quest. Excess rain flows down the gutters surrounding the building, landing in a hastily constructed plastic aquifer of sorts, resulting in their flowing down the man-made surface and toward soil. Laura, however, does not shed any additional fluids. She simply stares at the ground, in disbelief of the fact that she, 1) made her way to a random, practically abandoned parking lot in northeastern Massachusetts to talk to her baby's father, and 2) was in fact trying to reconnect with her baby's drunken, reckless father.
Laura: You haven't changed a bit, Tony, have you? You're the same asshole who approached me when we were in our early-20s. The same guy who hit on me in a bar in fucking Chelsea of all places. You were clearly broke, sitting at a hole-in-the-wall in a dumpy part of Boston, and I was some girl looking for... something. And you found me. Oh, you you found me. And you finding me was the worst thing that ever happened to me, clearly. We had a child together, and you disappeared. You disappeared quicker than a cheetah in a...
Tony holds his right index finger up to Laura's red lips. Her lips aren't lipstick-covered lips, mind you. No, Laura has luscious, naturally red lips to go along with her pale skin and black hair, and Tony was loving the chance to once again touch her. Once again feel her face. Once again...
...control her.
Santos: That did happen, my lady. But, why did it happen? Did you ever consider that? Did you ever consider that it wasn't something solely predicated on physical attraction? Did you ever think that it had something to do with the fact that we were both sitting in a bar in one of the worst parts of Boston, discussing our lives as privileged, white assholes amongst some less than fortunate Chelseaites? Did you ever consider the fact that yes, you, were also a privileged white asshole? The one whom people in that bar were clearly growing to dislike just as much as me?
That's why we got along so well that fateful night. Because you and I connected. We had a similar purpose then and there, and it just so happened to turn in to a drunken hump session in the back of the Dunkin' Donuts you worked at. That was us, and you were just as guilty as me. You know what our motives were. We weren't looking to connect on any deep, emotional level. We hadn't found our requisite soulmates! Your whole reason for including me in your life is based off of the bullshit idea that our relationship was anything more than a good fucking after a night at the bar! The foundation for our relationship is built on fucking shifting sands.
Laura grins as she lifts her own finger up to Tony's mouth. A mouth that was used to talking, and in no way used to stopping. Laura's index finger sinks slightly against Tony's skin, as the gap in his teeth allows for his upper lip to sink in like quicksand. Tony smiles, allowing Laura's finger to sink in to Tony's mouth before being yanked out. He presses his hand against his chest and starts making a pounding motion as the rain around them stops.
Santos: Do you hear that, Laura? Do you? That's the sound of my heart beating, It's not beating for you. It's not beating for Troy. It's beating for Tony Santos. Does that sound incredibly self-centered? You're damn right it does. But... my darling, this is me. This is the pace in which I live. This is the beat to which I drum. Honey bee, this is the heart of Tony Santos.
This is the man you've been hoping to find. The father you've been trying to understand. You wanna know why...
Laura: I know why...
Tony smiles, pressing his entire hand against Laura's mouth. As his left hand muzzles Laura, his right rests on his chest. Tony lifts every finger except his middle finger off of his body, and he begins to trace a circle around his heart with his middle finger.
Santos: See this, Laur?
Laura grimaced as Tony called her by a pet name that she disliked. She disliked it even more coming from the man who abandoned her and her child.
Santos: Do you? See, in reality, what's really here is a void. A complete and utter void where one of the most vital organs in my body should be. The beating heart, literally, of my body, controlling my physical needs, as well as, well, figuratively speaking, holding my hopes, dreams, and ability to love...
...ain't here. There's nothing here for me to love. That beating heart I was just talking about? The "beating heart" of Tony Santos is my fucking ego. That allows me to love myself. It allows me to block out everything around me and not feel any sort of loss or unmet needs. My own ego and narcissism is my drug. It numbs the pain and allows me to push on for another day. And here's the kicker! There's no bitching hangover the next day! It's perfect! And that, that is why I haven't...
Laura abruptly slaps down Tony's hand from her mouth. She looks at him with not so much angry eyes as... concerned ones. She attempts to speak, but can only manage to turn her head away enough to avoid Tony's image. A gust of wind picks up... the type of wind that precedes a bout of rain. And, as if on cue, the rain begins to fall. Laura picks herself up, brushes off the butt portion of her blue jeans, straightens her rain jacket, and walks to her car: a 2011 Black Toyota Venza. Her white Pumas scrape against the wet pavement, rain drops sink in to her hair, breaking and oozing down her head like yolk from a freshly broken egg.
Tony follows, lifting himself off of the ground and attempting to catch up with the woman who he has just so blatantly told he doesn't care for. Noticing this, Laura stops, her back still turned to Tony, and stretches a straight arm back at Tony.
Laura: Don't come with me. I'm taking this ride alone.
Tony frowns.
Santos: Laur, it's starting to pour and I'm in fucking Danvers, Massachusetts. There are no cabs. How the hell am I supposed to get home?
Laura lets out a brief chuckle.
Laura: Let your ego guide you home.
The scene fades to black.