All language subtitles for Black.Cake.S01E05.WEB.x264-TORRENTGALAXY_eng

Previously, on Black Cake...

People don't always
get the jobs they want.

- Your mother overcame so much,
and your father was a civil rights lawyer.

And you can't even summon the courage

to fight what is clearly
workplace discrimination?

- Don't use my parents to shame me.

- I'm sorry, that's not what I meant.

- Except that is what you meant.

What about when Dad died?
You said you'd come to the funeral.

- We waited for you, Benny.
- I wanted to be there.

This is about my family.

- I am your family!

Stop!

I came to Dad's funeral,

but I never got out of my car.

I couldn't face you or Mom

with my face all bruised and swollen.

- I am proud of you.

You got that piece of shit, Steve,
out of your life.

- It's a substantial offer,
and I think we ought to consider it.

- I don't think I want that piece
displayed in someone's house, Steve.

I mean, it's personal.

- Just tell me what you need.

Your mother left you a message.

In the end, she decided to talk.

- I didn't want to burden you
with the weight of it.

- I'm sorry. No. No, please stop.

I can't believe
she didn't tell Dad about Scotland.

- The saddest part is I think
Dad would've wanted to know.

- I wish I'd had the courage to
share the truth with you sooner,

because that's what
all three of my children deserve.

You heard me correctly, you have a sister.

♪ somber music playing ♪

I tried to forget, B and B.

Lord knows I tried.

But somewhere out there
was the little girl

who had made me a mother.

And how could I forget about that?

The ache that my firstborn child

had left in my heart

grew bigger after your father died,

while my world grew smaller

and lonelier.

You asked me before, Byron,
about that day on the beach,

and you were right.

It wasn't an accident.

♪

As soon as I got the news
that they had found something,

and I realized that I was going to die,

suddenly,

I desperately wanted to live.

How strange it seemed,

when only hours before,
I had all but given up on life.

But what could I do?

I couldn't stop the cancer from spreading.

And yet, still

I had to do something.

It might sound silly,

but I thought if I could change my diet,

start eating healthy,

that was one small thing I could control.

And so I started
scrolling through recipes,

when out of the blue,

there she was in a cooking video

of all places.

This chayote
was found in a rural market in Italy.

For so many years,

I had been searching for a face
I wasn't sure I would even recognize.

A face with a small birthmark
at the top of her forehead.

But it was her voice
that actually struck me first.

And when I looked closer,

I knew in my bones that she was my child.

And suddenly, the question became,
what would I do with that knowledge?

♪

Just tuck this. Perfect.

She's all set.

- We ready to go? Yeah?
- Yeah.

- Perfect. Okay, here we go.

Five, four, three, two--

- Welcome back
to our special travel episode,

here on location in beautiful Tuscany.

Today, we're talking about
Italian food culture,

and our next guest is Mabel Martin,
an ethno-food guru,

and author of Something True,

a bestselling book on traditional foods
from around the world.

Mabel, welcome to the show.

- Thank you so much for having me.

- Mabel, most of us who love coffee
have heard of the famous Italian blends,

but you write in your book that
there's no such thing as Italian coffee.

Can you explain?
- Of course.

What I'm saying is there's no such thing

as Italian coffee culture,
strictly speaking,

because the beans are imported
from other countries.

So Italy can't really claim ownership
of this culinary tradition

without acknowledging the role
of these other countries.

- In other words, coffee's a
shared tradition across cultures.

- Absolutely.

Some foods are born and bred
within one specific culture,

but others come about
through commercial exchange,

or a history of exploitation.

I mean, the beans used in Italy

are grown in countries
like Ethiopia and Brazil,

and w-we can't ignore that fact

when we talk
about "Italian coffee culture."

- Yeah, but your book focuses on recipes
born and bred within one culture.

That's right.

The diaspora of food,
just like the diaspora of people,

has influenced cultures around the world.

But personally,

I am fascinated
by highly-localized indigenous traditions.

- Sorry to jump in here,

but, um, I have to ask--
- Mmm?

- How can you put yourself
forward as a guru

on indigenous foods from African,
South American, and Asian countries

when, well,
you yourself are a white woman?

- Well, like most people,
I am the product of multiple cultures.

Yes, I was born in London,
but I have roots in Wales and Italy.

And my grandmother
spent many years in Trinidad

where her parents were missionaries.

She brought back loads of local recipes,

which eventually inspired
my lifelong study of food.

- So basically, your white ancestors
went to the Caribbean

to convert people to their religion,

and that makes you
an expert on those recipes?

Right. Oh. I've got it.

- No, what I'm saying is that most recipes
can't be claimed by one culture.

Take, for instance, Caribbean rum cake.

Cane sugar is the primary ingredient,

which came from Asia originally,
not the Caribbean.

So whose cake is it exactly?

- If it's a recipe made in the Caribbean,
by Caribbean people,

I would say it's Caribbean,

regardless of where
one ingredient is from.

- Rum originates in the Caribbean.
There's no history of rum cake in Asia.

So I don't see how
it can be considered a shared tradition.

- Well, I'm talking about
the recipe as a whole.

I just don't think we can always say
where one culture ends and another begins,

especially in the kitchen.

- You can't say, since you're
not a member of those cultures.

But I think you should be making space
for indigenous people

to comment on what is and isn't
a part of their own cultures,

rather than trying to whitewash them.

- Okay, we'll have
to leave it there, ladies.

I want to turn now to James Kellen,

owner and executive chef

of some of the top restaurants
across the world.

James,
what are your favorite Italian recipes?

Oh, well, I don't know
that I'll be half as exciting

as your previous guests,
but I'll do my best.

- Mom, listen.

If you start the chicken now,
it'll be done by the time I land.

And use the good olive oil I bought you.

None of that supermarket rubbish.

No. I haven't watched it yet.

I have half a dozen messages
from my publicist.

I just-- I don't--
I really don't want to know--

Well, thank you.
Yes, the lighting was quite forgiving.

- Oh. Okay, my car is here.

I've got to go.

Tell Gio I'm bringing him the bomboloni
from that place he likes.

Okay.

Alright, love you. Bye.

- Buongiorno.
- Ciao.

♪

I realize now that
there are certain moments in our lives

that come to define us, B and B.

Moments when we're confronted
with a question about who we truly are

on some fundamental level.

And when I found your sister,

I knew it was one of those moments.

I wanted so badly
to reach across the ocean

and be the mother I had never been

to this child
I had dreamed about for so long.

But I didn't want to shock her,

to frighten her,

to betray the people who had spent
so many years raising her and loving her.

And I was afraid
of what it would cost to tell the truth.

- They've taken my comments
completely out of context,

as if I'm trying
to appropriate Caribbean culture.

- That's ridiculous.

Talking about the origin of a recipe,
for heaven's sake!

- And drawing attention
to the historical exploitation

of marginalized communities
within culinary traditions.

And now, somehow,
I'm on the verge of being canceled.

- Well, you can't listen
to the internet, love.

People are just angry with the world
and looking for someone to blame.

- I am an academic and a historian.

Can I help that I am also a white woman?

Does that disqualify me
from writing about other cultures?

Of course not.

You know, when I think of all the years
that you spent in grad school,

the time that you spent
researching your book so meticulously--

And yet, nobody is mentioning that.

All they want to do
is make a snap judgment

and brand me as... just another Karen.

- When you're more qualified
than just about anyone

to talk about these things.

You should never have to apologize
for who you are, darling.

Never.

What do you think, Gio?

I hope this backlash
hasn't made it into your circles online.

- I mean, it's still trending on Twitter.

It's not like I can avoid it.

And honestly, I--

I kinda get it.

- What do you get, exactly?

- Well, do you really know anything about
underpaid Ethiopian coffee bean pickers?

Look at where you grew up.

I mean, whether you
like to admit it or not, Mum,

you're privileged.

- I'm not debating whether or not
I grew up with certain advantages.

Of course, I know
our family has been very fortunate.

But does that mean that I can only write

about foods people eat
in this neighborhood

or in this social class?

- You know what? I don't care, okay?

Write about anything you want.

I hardly see you anymore.

- Oh, that's not fair.

I work hard so you get to go
to the best school in the country.

- Is that the reason?

Well, you can keep your money,

'cause after this term,
I'm not going back.

- Excuse me? You're about
to start your A-levels, mister.

- So?
I don't even want to go to university.

Oh, really?

Then what do you want
to do with your life?

- I don't know. Travel, maybe.

Get a boat and sail around the world.

- Gio, the whole point of doing well
in your A-levels and going to university

is so that you have
the opportunity to figure out

what you want to do long-term,

not live your life on impulse.

I made sacrifices
so that you had options.

- Look, I get it. Okay?

I-I know things haven't been easy
since Dad died,

but I just don't fit in

with any of those posh English kids, okay?

I miss Rome.

I miss my friends.

And I'm old enough now
to make my own decisions.

- Clearly, not good ones.

- If you're worried
about passing your A-levels, Gio,

if it becomes an issue,
we can always get the exams reassessed.

- Right.

Just like all the other rich kids
who pay their way to the top.

- You do not speak
to your granddad like that.

Look, I don't want
to talk about this anymore.

You're not dropping out of school.

You're going to university.

And that's final.

♪

- Hello?

Mabel, hi.

It's James Kellen,
your fellow guest on the show today.

How are you?

- Oh, I'm fine.

Apart from being pilloried online
and thrown into cancel jail.

Thank you for your help
with that, by the way.

Did anyone actually listen
to what I was saying?

Because I was trying to create a dialogue.

You know what? I'm sorry.

Why are you calling me?

- I wanted to tell you, I thought you
handled yourself well under fire today.

And I was wondering
if I could take you out to dinner.

- You want to take me out to dinner?

Are you trying
to get yourself canceled too?

- No, I admire a woman
with strong opinions.

Besides, I wouldn't sweat
this whole media blast.

It'll all blow over
within a couple of news cycles.

- I wish I could share
your brazen optimism.

It's very American.

- Yeah, well, it's the truth.
People have short memories.

Anyway, I think you're fascinating.

And I haven't been able
to stop thinking about you all day.

- Well, that's a shame,

because I hopped on a plane to London
right after we wrapped,

so... it seems we've missed each other.

- Oh, London.

Ah, it's perfect.
I have business out there anyway.

What are you doing tomorrow night?

- Oh, darling,
it's so good to have you home.

House just comes alive when you're here.

- I missed you guys.

Did you know
Gio felt that way about school?

Well, he may--

He may have made
a few little comments here and there

during his last visit,
but... nothing definite.

- I knew I should've canceled
that stupid PR thing in Berlin.

I've missed three
of his school holidays now in a row.

- You have a thriving career.

Sweetheart,
there's nothing wrong with that.

Oh, besides,
he won't be mad at you forever.

He's just going through
a rebellious phase,

like all teenagers do.

- Um... I never went through
a rebellious phase.

- Well, no.

You were always my perfect little girl.

Perfect from the moment you were born.

- By the way,
you'll never guess who asked me out.

That big restaurant guy
from the show today.

- Oh, he was so handsome.

Good for you, darling. I liked him.

- Mmm.

But he's American, though.

Never gone out with an American before.

- Well, everyone has their flaws, dear.

Oh, I do want you
to find someone to settle down with.

My wish for you

is to experience the kind of love

that your father and I have had
all these years.

- But I had that once. You know that.

With Paolo.

- Well, yes, dear.
But that was different, wasn't it?

- No, it was still love,
whether or not you and Dad approved.

- Anyway, I'm not talking about the past.
I'm talking about the future.

Well, you deserve to find someone

who will love you
for the rest of your life

and appreciate you
for exactly who you are.

- No matter what the internet says?

- Exactly.

♪

- Well, I was always drawn to food
from around the world.

Even as a child,
I loved going to Brixton Market,

with all the stalls
with the-- the octopus tentacles

and the goats' heads and the dragon fruit.

I was completely fascinated.

- Yeah, you were a born foodie.

- Well, I just wasn't a fan
of Yorkshire pudding

and steak and kidney pie,

the bland British standards
that the other children loved.

I wanted color and spice and vibrancy.

- And your parents indulged you?

- Oh, they were marvelous.

That's the advantage
of being the only child.

- Yeah.

- My mum, she bought me
this little spice rack,

and she just-- just let me experiment.

They encouraged me to study abroad.

- And how exactly does one become
an ethno-food guru?

- Okay, I did not create
that ridiculous term, I'll have you know.

We can thank my PR team for that.

Long story short,

I met someone in Rome,

but he ended up passing away.

And I suddenly found myself
a single parent,

barely eking out a living in academia.

I always wanted to write a book,

blending my love of history
and anthropology and food.

So I thought, life is short, why wait?

- Grief has a tendency to put things
into perspective, doesn't it?

- Or give you tunnel vision.
- Hmm.

- It was a ridiculous gamble,
but it paid off.

- So what's next for you, anyway?

- I'm in the early stages
of researching my next book.

- Well, that's obviously a mistake.

- Excuse me?
- You should be thinking bigger.

I mean, expanding your brand beyond books.

You have what most authors
can only dream of.

You're gorgeous,

very good on camera,
and after yesterday,

you're already on people's radar.

- All publicity is good publicity.

- And you are a very good salesman.

Oh. I'm sorry.

- I think this has to do
with my book tour.

I'll be right back.
- Sure.

- Hello?

- Yes, hello.

May I speak to Mabel Martin, please?

- This is she. Who's calling?

- Well, hello.

Uh, my name is Charles Mitch.

I'm an attorney
in Newport Beach, California.

Uh, representing
one of my clients' estate.

I-Is now a good time to talk?

- Not really, actually.

I think you have the wrong person.
I don't know anyone in California.

- This is Mabel Mathilda Martin?

Your parents are Wanda and Ronald?

- Okay. Um, what is this regarding?

- I have some sensitive information
that pertains to you,

but if this is not a good time,
maybe we could--

- No. No, no, no. You have me now.

So just-- just tell me what this is about.

- My client passed away recently,

and she left me instructions
to contact you.

Her name was Eleanor Bennett.

Does that name mean anything to you?

- No. Should it?

- May I ask what you've been told
about your adoption?

Excuse me?

Uh-- There must be some kind of mistake.
I'm not adopted.

Oh my goodness.

I, uh, apologize.

Eleanor assumed
that you knew that much, at least.

- No, I'm sorry.
You have the wrong information.

- I'm afraid I don't. Um--

Eleanor was your birth mother.

Before she died, she had
an investigator confirm the relation.

She would've reached out to you herself,

but she was sick,
and, um, didn't want to burden you.

I have also been in contact with
your two half-siblings here in California.

Eleanor wanted me to invite you
to come here to meet with them...

- Um--
... and review some things
about the estate.

Look, I-- I'm sorry,
I-I don't know--

- I know this must be a lot
to process all at once,

and I truly apologize
for catching you off guard.

I'll tell you what,
I'll email you some information,

and that way, you can contact me
when you're ready to talk.

How does that sound?

- Um...

Uh, I--

I have to go.

Oh.

For so long, I had been
this child's mother in my heart,

but the world didn't see me that way.

It was as though I were living a lie.

♪ poignant music playing ♪

- Everything all right with the tour?

- What?

Oh, no. Uh--

Yes.

Everything's fine, thank you.

It's just, um...

Just logistics.

I'm sorry.
What were we talking about?

- I was trying to say
that you should have your own show.

I think you'd be a hit in the US.

If you're open to getting a foothold...

And when you've lived
your whole life as a lie,

how on earth do you redefine who you are?

How on earth can you possibly start over?

- It all makes sense now.

I spent my entire life
feeling like I wasn't good enough for Ma.

And... now I get it.

Every time she looked at me, sh-- sh--

She was probably thinking
about her... other daughter,

her

first daughter.

- Look at me.

Ma loved you, Benny.

Despite all this other shit.

You know she did.

- It doesn't matter if she loved me.

I always thought that
I was just living in your shadow,

but it wasn't about that.

She was comparing

me to her.

- How could she compare you

with this other... person

who wasn't even in her life?

- She was comparing me
to a fantasy of her,

which is even worse.

- Did you get through to her?

- I did.

She's gonna need some time to sit with it.

- She wasn't aware that she was adopted.

- How is that even possible?

Why would her family
have kept that from her?

- I suppose
they must've had their reasons.

But your mother

certainly never anticipated that.

- Jesus!
- Mm.

- To find out something like that
over the phone,

from a stranger.

- I know.

If your mother had known the situation,

she would've made a different plan.

- Did Mabel say whether or not
she was planning on coming out here?

- Not yet. But I emailed her.

Now we have to wait and see.

- Oh, whatever.

She can take all the time she wants.

But now that
you've broken the news to her,

let's just finish the last recording.

I wanna get this over with.

- I'm sorry,
but your mother was very specific.

She wanted us to wait until Mabel decided
whether or not she wanted to join us.

You've got to be kidding me!

After the bomb Mom just dropped,

she wants us to sit back
and twiddle our thumbs?

No. Give me this woman's phone number.
I'll call her myself.

- No.

Your mother wanted
all communications to go through me

out of respect for Mabel's privacy.

- Well, fuck what Ma wanted!

- Byron.
- No.

She wanted to die without

so much as a goodbye to me.

♪ melancholic music playing ♪

I don't care what Ma wanted anymore.

She left us a goddamn mess.

- I know this isn't easy,
but I have to respect her wishes.

I'll call

as soon as I hear anything.

- Yeah.

I'm not just sitting on my hands,

waiting for some stranger
to get her shit together.

We know her name.
We can find her number.

- Don't.

- Why not?

- I don't wanna know anything about her.

I don't want her

to be real yet.

- But she is real, Benny.

- I know.

I just need a minute
to wrap my head around it.

Please.

♪ melancholic music continues playing ♪

- Hey, love.

How are things going with your family?

- Oh, you know,

complicated.

- Yeah.
Sorry you're going through that right now.

- Thank you.

- So have you given any more thought
to what I mentioned yesterday?

About selling our piece?

Helena keeps bugging me about it.

She's already sent over a contract.

Oh, she must really like the piece.

- Well, of course. Fucking loves it.

Everyone who sees it loves it.

I think it's some of the best work
either one of us has ever done.

Maybe because it's so honest.

You know, it really

captures who you are.

- Okay.

- Okay, what?

- Okay, we can sell it.

- Really?

Fantastic.

- I just need to see it
one more time before we do.

- Yeah, sure.

Well, look,
I'm on my way to a thing right now,

but I won't be back till late.

Oh, it's fine.

How about I just let myself
into your place?

Because I still have a key.

That sounds nice.

Hey, we should crack open
a bottle of something to celebrate.

Our first sale as collaborators.

Hopefully, the first of many.

- Right.

Okay.

I'll see you later, then.

- Yeah.

- This ancient Roman soup
is said to have medicinal qualities.

Perfect for when you're feeling
under the weather.

To start with,
we'll soak our dry pulses overnight,

allowing them
to fully hydrate before cooking.

Now, here I have one cup each
of yellow split peas,

pearled barley,
brown lentils, and chickpeas.

♪ melancholic music playing ♪

♪

♪

- How was your date, darling?

It was fine.

- Didn't expect you back until late.

Gio's upstairs. Come and sit with us.

We're having the rest of the bomboloni.

Where are you going?

- I'm sorry about yesterday.

I got upset about the promotion because

it hurts me to see you get hurt.

Plus, I've just had
a lot on my mind lately,

so I've been a little extra testy.

But I was outta line,
invoking your parents like that.

- I'm sorry too.

For snapping at you.

I think my fuse
is a little shorter than usual lately.

- Understandably.

Can I come in?

I don't get it.
You mean she's light-skinned?

- Mm-mm. I mean, she's white.

She's passing. She doesn't even know it.

She's living her life as a white woman,

and apparently, she had no idea
she was even adopted.

- And your mother never said
who the father was?

- Mm-mm.

- Oh, God, By.

Her assault.

Do you think?

- I just don't know.

- I can't even begin to imagine

carrying that man's baby.

- I can't go there.

It's just too much.

Anyway...

This woman is actually kind of
a big-deal cookbook author in the UK.

She's mixed up
in some controversy right now.

I guess she made some tone-deaf comments
about Caribbean food.

- Seriously?

How uncanny is that?

- Shit. Yeah.

- What does Benny think of all this?

- Benny ran off again.

I guess she feels like

her place in the family is threatened
by the existence of another daughter.

- And what about you?

- Honestly, I'm pissed.

I mean, how many more secrets
was Ma keeping?

Marc's calling me.

- Work can wait, By.

You're on family leave.

- I'm sorry. Look, I'll be quick.

Hey, Marc.

- Byron. Hey, sorry to bug you.
I know you got a lot going on.

- That's okay. What's up?

- Well, the Institute was just invited
to participate in a panel tomorrow.

I wanted to see if you're interested.

I know it's last minute,
but it's right up your alley.

And I really think it'll bring
a lot more eyeballs to our work.

- What kind of panel is it?

Diversity in the sciences.

UC Irvine's hosting.

There's gonna be a lot of press there.

Look, uh, I'd try
to find somebody else, but--

- Of course, man. Happy to represent.

Fantastic.
I'll send you the details.

And thanks, Byron.
I knew we could count on you.

- Let me guess.

A diversity panel?

- You really gonna go talk
about how inclusive your industry is

after everything that happened?

- I can't afford to give them any excuse

to find fault
with my performance right now.

- You remember when we first met,

when I was filming
that Trailblazers thing?

Just hearing the way you talked,
you were so passionate.

Not just about your work

but about making
a real difference in the world.

- Come on.

I'm still passionate.

But I also have to be realistic, Lynette.

- Look, I have values

that I try to put into action
in my own life.

And I thought that's who you were too.

You say it's who you are,

but... you can't seem to walk the walk.

You have worked so hard,

and yet you keep diminishing yourself

and making your colleagues look good.

And that's not who I thought you were.

It's not who I fell in love with.

- Lynette, I can't
single-handedly take on racism.

I have to protect myself.

- But I can't just wait around
for you to break through

whatever it is that's holding you back.

I need someone that I can count on

to fight for what they believe in.

- I believe in us, Lynette.

Don't just blow up everything we have
over some diversity panel.

- It's not just that, Byron. It's--

- What? Tell me. I'll make it right.

- I love you.

But it's not enough.

I wanna respect you too.

- Lynette, come on.

Are you kidding me?

Come on, let's talk about this.

♪ melancholic music playing ♪

- Hello?

I'm sorry.
She's not interested in a subscription.

Yes, I'm sure.

Because she's dead.

♪

♪ pensive music playing ♪

♪

♪

- Uh, Mum, Dad, I need to talk to you.

- What is it? Where's Gio?

- No, uh, everything's fine. Gio is fine.

I just-- I need to talk to you both.

What time is it?

Can't this wait till the morning, pumpkin?

- No, I'm afraid it can't.

Tell me again about the day I was born.

Oh.

Oh, sweetheart!

I take it
the date with the American didn't go well?

- Just tell me, please.

- Well,

I remember hearing you cry.

"A healthy cry," is what they said.

But the moment you were placed in my arms,

you were so quiet and so calm.

It was as if you knew
exactly where you wanted to be.

And your little hand
grabbed hold of my finger.

And you had
the most lovely shock of dark hair.

And you were absolutely perfect.

And I knew I would love you forever.

- My hair,

you always told me
that was the Sicilian in me from Nonna,

and my skin and my bone structure.

Wha--

Well, you were lucky
you got the beauty genes in the family.

- But there was only that one photo
of Nonna in the album,

and I could never quite see
the resemblance.

Um...

I got a phone call this evening

from a solicitor in California.

He said the strangest thing.

He told me my birth mother had died.

♪

So it is true?

- Mabel, please.

Must we really do this now?

- Yes, actually. We must.

Apparently, I was born
to a 19-year-old woman,

a girl, really,

at a home for unwed mothers.

Her name was Eleanor.

She was an immigrant from the Caribbean.

Did you know all that?

- Mabel, it--

It never mattered to us
where you were from.

We had waited for a child for so long.

And you were our little miracle.

- Right, but did you know what I was?

What I-- What I am?

- Well, we-- we knew
that you looked a little different,

and as you got older, we wondered.

- Right, so you lied to me.

And, apparently, you convinced
everyone that we know to lie to me too.

We...

asked them to be discreet.

- Discreet?

Right.

Did you not think
I would want to know the truth?

Did it not occur to you
that I might want to know?

- We were trying to protect you.

- From what?

Well, we didn't want you
to be... confused or...

to be treated differently.

- Right. Treated differently.

So were you trying
to protect me or yourselves?

- Oh! No, we tried
to give you the best life that we could.

We may not have been perfect,
but we did our best.

And we didn't tell you certain things

for the same reasons
that you haven't told Gio

the whole truth about his father.

- That is not the same, and you know it!

- Oh! Why don't you tell him the truth
and see what happens!

- You don't get to tell me
how to parent my child.

I'm leaving in the morning.

- No--
- Let's not overreact.

- Sweetheart. Please. No, wait.
- No! No!

This is not some little thing.

This is my life. This is my identity.

♪ melancholic music playing ♪

I can't be around you.
I can't be around you.

- What the hell, Mum?

It's creepy.

- I'm sorry.

I just got into a big fight
with your Gran and Grandad.

- Seriously?

You guys are like best friends. What--

What was it even about?

- Everything.

♪

♪

- Hey. I just found Ma's phone.

And you know what I found?

Outgoing calls to Mabel.

- Can you just stop talking
and listen to me for a second?

I'm at Steve's house.

- Wait, Steve-Steve?

- Yeah, the guy
I told you about yesterday.

- What? You said he was your ex.
What are you doing at his house?

- It's a long story.
I came here to take care of something,

and-and I was gonna be gone
before he got here,

- but he just pulled up.
- Shit, Benny.

What the hell? Come on!

- Look, I'm gonna handle it, just--

I just dropped you a pin, okay?

So somebody knows where I am,
just in case anything happens.

- Listen to me.
You need to get out of there now.

- It's too late, Byron. I gotta go.

- Oh, there you are.

Are you ready to celebrate?

I threw a bottle of Veuve
into the fridge before I left.

- We can't sell the sculpture, Steve.

- Look, I know it's sentimental,
but... it's a lot of money, Benny.

I know you could use it.

Besides, we can always make another one.

- Don't touch me.

- What's wrong?

- Do you know
how many years of my life you stole?

Do you have any idea how much
I missed out on because of you?

- Wh-Where's this coming from
all of a sudden?

- You... don't... own me,

or my body,

or my art,

or my talent.

But you got in my head
and let me think that you did.

You convinced me
that I was weak for loving my family.

And now, my mother is dead.

And I will never get to say
the things that I should've said to her.

And I will never get to ask her
the questions that I should've asked,

because you robbed me of that chance,

you manipulative,
lying, pathetic piece of shit!

But not anymore.

'Cause I'm done.

So you can lose my number.

Oh, and forget about
the fucking sculpture, Steve,

because... it's gone.

I just smashed it into a million pieces.

- Wait, Benny, please.

You're right. I am a piece of shit!

And I don't deserve you.
- No. You don't.

- But you're the love of my life.

And I don't wanna lose you.

I know! I fucked up a lot.

But I'm sorry, Benny.

And I want to do better.

I swear to God, I want to be
the kind of man that you deserve.

But look at my life.

It's a fucking mess! And you know it.

Pretty soon,
I'll just be another has-been.

But you're the best thing
that ever happened to me.

And if you walk out on me right now,
I don't know what I'll do.

So please, Benny, I'm begging you.

Don't go.

♪

♪ dramatic music playing ♪

- What the hell are you doing, Benny?
Get away from him!

- Byron, it's okay.
Look, I was-- We were just talking.

I was just making sure he wasn't
gonna do anything stupid once I left.

- Calm down, mate. Everything's fine.

- You good?
- Yes.

- Was everything fine
when you beat her so bad,

she couldn't even show her face
at our dad's funeral?

- What? You think you can
just swoop in now like a hero,

when you haven't even said
one word to her

for eight fucking years?
- Alright.

- Well, where were you
when she needed a shoulder to cry on, huh?

Or when she couldn't make rent?

You're not a brother to her.

You're just a fucking joke.

Please!

Byron, no!

Stop it!

No!

Byron! No!

Somebody's gonna c-call the cops!

No!

Yo, bro!

Just give him room!

Freeze!

Put your hands
where we can see them!

Put your hands up, now!

♪ somber music playing ♪