1452. Awake
A SCENE THAT MAY OR MAY NOT HAVE HAPPENED BUT WILL REGARDLESS BE PIVOTAL ON THE STAGE
A BEDROOM, AT NIGHT.
The demon sits among the piles of disarray, sifting through a box of cosmetics. Or rather, a box containing several boxes of cosmetics.
THE GOTHIC HEROINE (from the doorway)
Trying out a new look?
She is referring to the fact that the demon has buzzed off his hair. The imprint of a scar is visible along the high point of his skull. She is also noticing a scar through his eyebrow that looks fresh. (It is.)
The demon ignores her. She sits beside him and picks up one of the makeup boxes.
THE GOTHIC HEROINE
Weird.
THE DEMON (without looking up)
What?
THE GOTHIC HEROINE
These boxes all seem to be missing an item.
The demon is only half listening.
THE GOTHIC HEROINE
None of them have lipsticks.
The demon pauses then. The heroine watches the shape of his shoulders as they go stiff beneath his T-shirt. It’s the same kind he usually wears, but this one is clearly new. The edges of the sleeves stick out at each side from a sharp crease, unwashed.
THE DEMON
Just say it.
THE GOTHIC HEROINE
Say what?
Heads in the audience pause mid-bounce as conversation volleys from one speaker to the other.
The heroine can feel her heart dancing inside her chest—a flutter of proximity to danger.
Perhaps the audience can even see it happen, as with an X-ray held to her chest. After all, what is reality? Say that she is a cartoon skunk.
THE DEMON
I know that the police came to see you. I know that you know what I’ve done. So let me guess.
(He looks at her.)
You’re going to turn me in?
This is a dare and The Gothic Heroine knows it.
The next serve is hers. Quiet, please.
THE GOTHIC HEROINE
I don’t really know how I would do that. I mean, I don’t have any evidence.
THE DEMON
You know what I am.
THE GOTHIC HEROINE
Actually, I don’t. Which is kind of the whole point of being here.
The demon’s eyes cut away from hers as the volleying heads come to rest.
THE DEMON
Stop.
THE GOTHIC HEROINE
Stop what?
The demon flinches as if reacting to the throb of a vicious headache. His hand rises partway to his temple before he shakes himself free.
THE DEMON
I don’t know what you want from me.
THE GOTHIC HEROINE
Nothing.
(A pause.)
Answers.
THE DEMON
Those aren’t the same thing.
THE GOTHIC HEROINE
Fine, then I want answers.
THE DEMON
Why, are you some kind of amateur crime fighter? Are you trying to play detective?
This degree of sarcasm is tiresomely normal and therefore unthreatening.
THE GOTHIC HEROINE
I’m just making conversation.
She dabs on a little of the highlighter that came in one of the makeup boxes. She places it fashionably, high on her cheeks and on the tip of her nose.
THE GOTHIC HEROINE
Isn’t this my job? To be here with you, making sure you’re alive?
THE DEMON
Bullshit.
He wrenches the box from her hands and tosses it aside.
THE DEMON
Why are you even here? You don’t need this job.
THE GOTHIC HEROINE
Says who? (She rolls her eyes.) Like you’ve ever paid rent in your life.
THE DEMON
You don’t pay rent either. You live with your mother. In an apartment complex owned by your family trust.
As this information is intended to spook or unsettle the heroine, she chooses not to react.
THE GOTHIC HEROINE
I don’t think that trust is the same as whatever your dad set up for you.
She keeps her voice jaunty, light. Is she playing a character?
Yes and it’s coming so naturally, with almost no effort at all.
As if the whole time she’s just been waiting for him to up the ante, to force her to gamble on her own magic.
To witness just how wonderfully she can glitter when the stage lights are on her.
Deuce, demon to serve. He makes his own observations.
THE DEMON
I was wondering when you’d ask me about him.
THE GOTHIC HEROINE
Oh?
THE DEMON
Honestly, you held off longer than I thought.
THE GOTHIC HEROINE
You say that like you know me.
THE DEMON
Right, because you’re so complex.
THE GOTHIC HEROINE
Are you saying you think I’m here because your dad’s a movie star?
THE DEMON
I mean, am I wrong?
THE GOTHIC HEROINE
Would it matter if I said yes?
This answer is nothing. Go girl, give us nothing. Really, the heroine and the demon are handing the nothing back and forth and they are losing the audience.
So the heroine takes a step to close the distance.
THE GOTHIC HEROINE (a sultry murmur)
Or do you just want me to say that I prefer you to him?
Ohhhhhh shit! The demon reacts.
(But don’t overdo it.)
THE GOTHIC HEROINE
Hmm, have I touched a nerve?
Where are her hands right now? Things to ponder.
THE DEMON
What is your game here?
The demon is angry, very angry. The heroine, meanwhile, finally seems alive. Could She Survive It? She wants to push the odds and find out. There’s a heat emanating off them both, the exact frequency of torment. What could happen? Use your imagination!
(They certainly are.)
THE DEMON
Don’t you understand what will happen if I—
He breaks off. He looks at the heroine.
The heroine looks back at him.
THE DEMON
You know about it.
Him.
Me.
The heroine doesn’t say anything. She doesn’t need to. It’s not like this is a real question.
THE DEMON
You’re trying to provoke it right now, aren’t you?
He looks like he just took a bite of something unusual. An eccentric flavor combination. Caramel and miso, what a concept!
THE DEMON
Are you insane?
THE GOTHIC HEROINE
I don’t think that’s strictly PC of you to say.
THE DEMON
Oh my god—
THE GOTHIC HEROINE
And besides, I think we can both agree it’s objectively interesting. The only demons I come across in my line of work are the usual revolting human men. So just think how fascinating you are to me by comparison.
THE DEMON
(as if he has just been told the most annoying thing in the world; so undeniably the most annoying thing that a certificate from Congress is already on the way, embossed and glossy)
You’re bored. You’re bored and you want to literally poke the bear. Unbelievable.
He moves to pass the heroine and she follows him across the stage.
THE GOTHIC HEROINE (conversationally)
I call it the monster.
THE DEMON (muttering to himself)
That’ll just flatter it.
THE GOTHIC HEROINE
It’s never taken this long to come out before.
She makes her observations pointedly, light-handedly, as if they’ve walked through dimensions and genre constraints.
The demon pauses with an air of something. Danger that lives in the same place as hunger.
THE DEMON
Listen. I’m only going to say this once.
You will never be safe with me. I can’t promise that I won’t want to hurt you, or that I won’t want to try.
I don’t know where I was the night those girls were killed. I don’t know whether I was the one who killed them. I don’t know how I got all these police files or security images or what I was looking for when I got them.
(A pause.)
Something is very, very wrong with me.
He doesn’t say it as if it’s a mystery. He says it as if he knows exactly what the “something” is.
He grips the heroine’s arms hard.
THE DEMON
I don’t want to hurt you.
He looks at his white-knuckled grip like he’s trying to understand the mechanics of it.
THE GOTHIC HEROINE
Okay.
(She removes his hands from her arms.)
Then don’t.
THE DEMON
I might. I probably will. Shut up—
The last bit is said to someone else. The thing that’s been in the room with them the whole time.
Suddenly, the lighting seems sinister. (Director’s note: The sinister lighting is not necessarily a bad or ugly thing. Perhaps it suits the heroine’s palette.)
THE GOTHIC HEROINE
Wait.
She takes hold of the demon’s face to look at him more closely. This motion is so impulsive she doesn’t even notice that she’s done it until the demon shivers with awareness at her touch. Until she sees how well and gently her thumb sits in the cleft of his chin.
THE GOTHIC HEROINE
Just … wait.
His eyes track hers while she moves her thumb. She runs it lightly below the edge of his lower lip, then traces the bow of his upper one.
She draws one finger along the shape of his nose. She strokes his cheek. His eyes flutter shut and she brings her thumb to the high point of his forehead.
She does something she’s never done to anyone.
She blesses his forehead with the Sign of the Cross.
The demon instantly convulses. Is it a seizure?
The heroine catches him in her arms. She pulls out a cell phone.
THE GOTHIC HEROINE
Dr. Hodel? It’s Anya Morris.
(A pause.)
Yes, that’s fine. I’ll wait.