Chapter 2
MILES: I’m watching your cologne commercial, Pretty Boy.
DYLAN: I think you mean my cologne-related cinematic art.
MILES: Actually, I meant Joli Garcon.
DYLAN: It’s just called Garcon.
OWEN: Yeah, I saw that on the interweb the other day. HAWT.
DYLAN: Leave me alone.
MILES: I’m now wondering why I’ve always worn shirts under my long leather trench coats when I’m at the beach.
OWEN: Yeah it really made me wonder why I’ve never walked into the ocean in a leather trench coat and jeans. I had no idea what the commercial was for, but you totally sold me on that.
MILES: Garcon! Could you bring me another glass of sea water?
DYLAN: I’m really sorry you guys are too old and paunchy to do shirtless cologne ads anymore, but I got paid a fuck ton for that gig. I have zero regrets about it.
OWEN: Well someone’s in a mood today.
MILES: Aww. Does somebody still have sand in his crack?
MILES: Are you still suffering from Post Dramatic Stress Disorder, buddy? Still trying to win back your most recent co-star?
DYLAN: She is so much more than my most recent co-star and you know that.
MILES: Sorry. Your most recent showmance.
OWEN: You back in town, Dylan? Should we take you out? Margaritas and dancing? Spa day, maybe? How can we help?
OWEN: JK I’m not going out because I have a son and a hot new girlfriend who lives with me. But I’m always here for you. On my phone. Or if you want to come to my house for a little while. But only if you promise not to moan about your exes the whole time.
DYLAN:
MILES: I will totally take you out, little bro. Let’s do our hair toss and check our nails. Baby how ya feelin’?
MILES: Feelin’ good as hell! All right! We could do drinks from eight to eight thirty. I have an opening three and a half months from now. By then you’ll probably have just broken up with the next girl, so…
DYLAN:
OWEN:
MILES:
MILES: So that’s a no re. drinks then?
DYLAN: Emailing new therapist for an appointment. Don’t need you.
OWEN: Good for you! Maybe this one will actually help.
MILES: Are you emailing one of the names I sent you?
MILES: Dylan?
MILES: Dylan.
MILES: Not the one Frankie told you about?
MILES: Dylan…
OWEN: Hey. I won’t tell Miles, but you’re emailing the therapist that Frankie told you about, aren’t you? The one that Mia said is really beautiful?
DYLAN: Hey. There aren’t any pictures of this so-called beautiful therapist online that I can find, so I’m just trying to get an appointment with her because you said Mia is really well-adjusted. Maybe Mia has really bad taste in women—how would I know unless I see this woman for myself?
OWEN: Fair enough. You okay though? You know Miles doesn’t mean to be a dick, right?
DYLAN: I am okay, and I’ve spent the first 27 years of my life searching for evidence that Miles doesn’t mean to be a dick. My conclusion thus far is that he is a dick.
OWEN: Also fair enough.
DYLAN: I am completely heartbroken and alone, FYI in case you were wondering.
OWEN: Like I said, I’m here for you. Except Frankie just made dinner and we’re gonna watch TV and then have sex all night. So get well soon xoxo
MILES: Here. I made you a Spotify playlist.
Miles Brodie's Guide to Getting Over It
DYLAN: These are all chick songs.
MILES: Nuh-uh. “Bye Bye Bye” by NSYNC.
DYLAN: There are TWO Cher songs on here.
MILES: You know what? If you don’t want to listen to it don’t listen to it.
DYLAN: I’ll listen to it.
MILES: No don’t bother. You don’t deserve Cher. Or Tina Turner. And you definitely don’t deserve Beyonce.
DYLAN: I’m listening to it. I like this Lizzo song. THANK YOU.
MILES: You’re welcome.
DYLAN: ALL THE FEELS!!!
MILES: Okay just shut up and listen to the playlist. I’ve got work to do.
DYLAN: Yeah me too. EMOTIONAL WORK.
DYLAN: Gotta take a deep breath, gotta focus on ME.
DYLAN:
DYLAN:
DYLAN:
DYLAN: You Do Not Disturbed this convo didn’t you?
DYLAN: Whatever. I feel better already, actually.
DYLAN: Seriously, thanks, man.
MILES: Don’t get all sappy on me.
MILES: But you’re welcome.
DYLAN: