Fate Fiction

Prologue

. . .

MAIN CHARACTERS:

DANI GRANT: A woman, late twenties, HR manager with a wandering mind, glasses wearer, curly brown hair, shaky confidence.

NICK FEROLLI: Just a man.

SCENE: AN APARTMENT IN CAMbrIDGE, MASSACHUSETTS.

TIME: EARLY EVENING.

ACT V

SETTING: A KITCHEN TABLE, CANDLES LIT, ROYALTY FREE “DINNER JAZZ” PLAYLIST IN THE BACKGROUND.

FADE IN: DANI SITTING WITH HER ARMS PROPPED ON THE TABLE, POSITIONED DIRECTLY ACROSS FROM NICK. HE’S SHOVELING BOLOGNESE INTO HIS MOUTH. HE DRIPS SAUCE ONTO HIS FADED NEW ENGLAND PATRIOTS T-SHIRT.

DANI

So, who is she?

NICK STUFFS ANOTHER FORKFUL OF PASTA INTO HIS MOUTH AND GIVES DANI A CONFUSED LOOK BEFORE SWIPING HIS PHONE OPEN AND SCROLLING. DANI TAKES ANOTHER SIP OF WINE. SHE’S VISIBLY TIPSY, A FLUSH HAS SPREAD ACROSS HER CHEEKS AND CHEST.

NICK

What do you mean “she”?

HE REPLIES WITHOUT MAKING EYE CONTACT. EYES GLUED TO HIS PHONE.

DANI

Whoever the far more interesting person is that seems to live in your phone. They’ve captured your attention for the better part of the night, and every night for a while now.

NICK

Babe—

HE STILL HASN’T MET HER GAZE. INSTEAD, HE SWIPES WITH ONE HAND AND CLUMSILY SCOOPS MORE PASTA ONTO HIS FORK WITH THE OTHER.

DANI (V.O.)

Oh boy, here we go.

NICK

There’s no one. Work has been crazy. I told you that.

DANI

Well, babe—

SHE SWALLOWS, LIKE BILE HAS RISEN IN HER THROAT.

DANI

I find it particularly surprising that you’re getting this many work texts at 7:30 p.m. on a Saturday. I’m sure the washed up D3 athlete coke addicts you work with aren’t this dialed in right now.

HESITANT AUDIENCE LAUGHTER.

NICK

Dani. What the fuck? That was out of line.

DANI SWIRLS HER WINE IN HER GLASS.

DANI

It was, but so is cheating on your girlfriend of six years and blatantly lying about it, albeit very badly.

NICK FINALLY LOOKS AT HER, HIS PHONE CLATTERS TO THE TABLE.

DANI

I just miss how things were with us, why don’t we exchange phones, you can look at what I’ve been up to and I can see who, or what, you’re doing. Fair swap.

SHE SWALLOWS AGAIN AND FAKES A SMILE. A CLOSE UP SHOT OF HER TREMBLING LIPS SHOWS THE BURGUNDY STAIN FROM THE RED WINE. SHE READJUSTS HER BLOUSE AND LEANS FORWARD, PUSHES OUT HER CHEST AND POUTS SLIGHTLY. NICK’S EYES DART DOWN AT HER CHEST BEFORE LOOKING AT DANI WITH DISDAIN.

NICK

I’m not fucking doing that, what’s gotten into you?

DANI

Look, I want to trust you, I want to assume the best, but you reacting like that shows me I can’t. If you’re talking to someone else, fine, but don’t do it here.

SHE LEANS BACK INTO THE CHAIR AND CROSSES HER ARMS. THE BACKGROUND MUSIC CUTS OUT.

NICK

Are you fucking kicking me out of our apartment—

DANI

My apartment. Mine is the only name on the lease. And yes, I fucking am.

THE AUDIENCE REACTS WITH “OOHS” AND GASPS.

A SLY SMILE GROWS ACROSS DANI’S FACE. IN THE DIM LIGHTING, A FLUSH CREEPS ACROSS HER CHEEKS AS SHE DOESN'T brEAK EYE CONTACT.

NICK

Bitch.

HE STANDS UP FROM THE TABLE, SLAMMING THE CHAIR DOWN BEFORE STORMING OFF TO THE BEDROOM TO PACK. THE CAMERA FOLLOWS HIM, THEN SWIFTLY PANS BACK TO DANI. SHE GLANCES DOWN AT HER HANDS AND NOTICES THEY’RE SLIGHTLY SHAKING.

THE CAMERA CUTS TO THE BEDROOM DOORWAY, SHOWING NICK GRUMBLING FURIOUSLY AS HE YANKS HIS SUITCASE DOWN FROM THE TOP SHELF OF THE CLOSET AND SLAMS EACH DRESSER DRAWER. HE THROWS HIS CLOTHING HAPHAZARDLY INTO THE BAG.

DANI TAKES HER FIRST BITE OF THE PASTA AND HUMS TO HERSELF, PLEASED. HER BOTTOM LIP QUIVERS AS SHE SWALLOWS AND SIPS FROM HER WINE GLASS. HER EYES ARE GLASSY.

THE CAMERA REMAINS FOCUSED ON DANI AS NICK’S SILHOUETTE CROSSES BEHIND HER. HE OPENS THE FRONT DOOR AND SLAMS IT.

DANI IS ALONE.

THE SCREEN FADES TO BLACK.