All language subtitles for A9EDF70233A0AC766F4609420DFCD087_eng

There was a brilliant
way about Velouria.

She had a virginal quality

that contrasted her
ice cold outer shell.

Looking back, I realize that
I was the only one to notice.

Yeah, she was a bitch, for sure.

Her breasts, her
cheekbones, her legs.

She saw it all in the
mirror every morning

and was well aware of
the power held therein.

No one could touch
her or intimidate her.

She rarely looked
anyone in the eye.

I once saw Brad Dorsey,
captain of the soccer team,

crying by his locker.

She dumped him after one
date and took his balls with her.

From that day forward, he
never played sports again.

This was a prime example
of the witchery she cast.

But I wasn't attracted
to her pale beauty.

I was more turned on
by the little girl within.

It was this thought

that I masturbated
to every afternoon.

And not her thighs
or flat stomach.

I imagined her breaking down

and begging me
never to leave her

because I was the only
one who truly understood

the Velouria within.

And when I finished,

I looked at the small puddle
of cum I had generated

and wondered,

"Why did I just waste
this on a table top?"

Um, how old were you
when this story took place?

I was, um…

6th Grade.

- Ew.
- Sidney,

I asked the class
to write an essay

on the meaning of life.

I thought this was
appropriate for that topic.

Well, it's not.

It was highly inappropriate.

Well… Okay.

She's going to fail you.

I just hate her, you know.

Hey look, I don't like
her very much either

but it doesn't mean
she's a bad teacher.

- She had a book published.
- A romance novel.

But still, you're going to
have to figure out a way

to get a passing grade from her.

You better rewrite those essays.

You know what it is?

It's… It's her…

It's her limited definition
of 20th century writers.

What about… What about
Hunter S. Thompson?

What about David
Foster Wallace, you know?

William Gibson.

You know, someone contemporary.

Sidney.

I went to a meeting earlier
today and I fought for you.

But she thinks
you've targeted her,

and lets face it, she's right.

What if I wrote a novel?

No one's questioning
your ability.

It's your subject matter
that's getting you in trouble.

You know what
they would do to me

if I printed half the stories

you've submitted
for the school paper?

Okay.

Let's say you did write a novel.

What would it be about?

It's about

a suicide victim
from a small town.

Did you think when you wrote it

that it would go on to
have this kind of success?

No, I mean… I didn't even know

I could make a living
off of it, honestly.

I… I was just hoping that
one person would buy it,

one person would
want to read it.

But millions of
people have bought it.

- Mmm-hmm.
- Millions.

Yeah.

How do you follow up a
book like a suburban tragedy?

I can't think about it that way.

I just keep writing.

And when can we
expect your next book?

Soon.

Okay! You have an
11:00 at Sushi Dan

with Porter House.

A 1:00 live interview with JNN,

Flight is at 5:00 and…

And?

Dr. Baum says you
still haven't contacted

the therapist you recommended

and that he will
reschedule the MRI again.

Thoughts, comments?

I'll do the MRI.

I'm not seeing a therapist.

I need a divorce
attorney, not a shrink.

How'd you feel
about the interview?

Oh, best one you've ever done.

You ready?

He didn't have a lot on him…

He just had a duffle bag.

I mean, he just had
basically everything he owned.

I asked him one time,

I asked him where he was headed.

And he looked at me…

And he just said, "May 25th."

That was it, it was May 25th.

He was a lunatic.

You could tell just
by looking at him.

He was ranting, raving.

Next thing you know,
there's a fire in the apartment.

What'd he look like?

I don't know, he was, uh…

Early mid-thirties, white.

Kinda filthy.

- Big beard.
- Big beard. Yeah.

Sunglasses. Kinda…
Yeah, he was obviously…

You could tell he was like
mentally, you know, slow.

What is your name?

Bauer, David Bauer.

Mr. Bauer.

Sit down.

Is this the man that
you were referring to?

Yeah. Yep, that's him.

- Are you sure?
- Yeah, I'm positive.

Mr. Bauer.

Tell me if this sounds familiar.

A man walks into a store.

He's a drifter.
Modestly dressed.

He searches the establishment

for a certain section of books,

which contain a
particular literature

that he deems unreadable.

He takes these books.

Takes out a can
of lighter fluid.

Fire.

But he's not alone
when he does this.

There's a hound dog.

An old hound
dog, about this tall.

Did you happen to see this dog?

Well, it's against
library policy

to allow pets into the building,

so, no.

I wonder what he
did with the dog.

I don't know, maybe
he left it at home

like a normal person.

If he had a home, that
would be a wonderful option.

You have to excuse me for
not having a lot of sympathy

for a guy who walks in here

and burns books
in public places.

And neither do I.

However there is something
I know that you don't.

Yeah, what's that?

I know why he burned the books.

Why?

Because he wrote them.

Good day, Mr. Bauer.

Can I help you with something?

Uh, yeah, I need to talk to you.

Uh, If you're looking for a book

on how to please your woman,

the card catalog
is just over there.

Yeah.

I liked your essay
the other day.

Oh, yeah? Why?

Cause it was honest.

All the rest were bullshit,
but yours was honest.

Right.

We wouldn't be caught dead

talking to each
other in the halls.

Yet, here we are
for the very first time,

and you want to talk to
me about my homework?

It's a compliment, Hall.

And plus, that's not true.

We hung out once
in the 5th grade.

I was running away from home,
you lent me an extra bicycle.

You remember that?

Yeah, I remember that, dipshit.

We rode up to that
hill over by the winery.

That, um…

It's actually what
I'm here to talk about.

I'm surprised you're
bringing that up.

That was a really long time ago.

You remember what we
did when we got there?

You had a paper bag.

It was, uh, wrapped up in tape.

Right?

It was kinda bulky.

We buried it.

On Farmer's Peak.

You wouldn't tell
me what was in it.

Right. Well, I need it back.

What do you want
me to do about it?

Look, I don't know
that area, man, all right.

All the hills look
the same to me.

Never been back since.

Oh, you need my help.

Yeah.

Yeah, Hall. All right?

I need you help.
There, I said it.

I don't know, man. I mean…

The day after we hung out,

you pretended like
nothing ever happened.

I saw you in the halls,
you laughed in my face.

You were an asshole
then. You're an asshole now.

Tell me one good
reason why I should care.

You're right, forget it.

Oh, come on.

Please, please, don't
throw away my comic books.

Haven't you
outgrown those things?

Sorry, Dad. I got you.

What's next? You're gonna
throw away my CDs, my books,

everything in my room?

Hey, Dad, you want something
to read? I got a comic…

You have any ideas about
who you're taking to prom?

Not this one. I'm
not going to prom.

- How does that look?
- Why not?

Because it's a segregated ritual

wherein the unpopular
people are ostracized

- by the beautiful ones.
- Oh, my God.

Your father and I have great
memories from prom night.

Yeah. Me.

Get over it.

All right.

Brandi. Okay.

Hi.

Brandi.

There you go.

Uh, it's a pleasure
to meet you, Mr. Hall.

Hey. Uh, what's your name?

My name's Henry Crow.

I've read your
book so many times.

Um, it's really affected
the way I think about things.

Is that Crowe with an E?

- Yeah.
- An E, yeah.

I think I know what I'm
supposed to do now.

Sorry, what was that?

"The core of our nation

"is etched inside
these plastic smiles.

"And endless rows
of nowhere houses.

"This is how we live.

"It's also how we die."

Sidney?

Sorry for the wait.
Harold's ready for you.

Lawyers are only trouble.

Listen, I gotta go.

A great writer has
just entered the room.

All right, Love you.

Bye.

Sidney, my dear boy.

Don't take this the wrong way,

I say it as a friend.

You look like shit.

You look like one of those
lost children on milk cartons.

You've been number one
on The New York Times

best seller list
for eight months.

And still, no smile.

Please, tell me. What
ails you? What can I do?

I'm having panic
attacks, Harold.

That's good. All of my
clients have panic attacks.

Yeah, but you know,
none of your other clients

have my kind of pressures.

None of my other clients
have your kind of talent.

If you weren't
having panic attacks,

I'd be very worried.

No, it's… It's
different this time.

I'm seeing things.
Things that aren't there.

Like right now, it looks like
you're not wearing pants.

I'm not wearing pants.

Sidney, do you know
what I have in this folder?

No.

It's starts with the letter "P."

- Protest letters?
- No. Not protest letters.

Christ, man! You've
got to get optimistic.

Forget about Montana.

Everything that
we have worked for.

Everything that we
have talked about

has come down to this.

Open it.

The Pulitzer Prize.

You're a finalist.

We find out the
winner later this month.

Good, you've heard of it.

Ugh.

Oh.

Whatever you want,

it's not as important as
what I'm doing right now.

Love you, bye bye.

My mother.

So, can I get a fucking
smile now or what?

This guy, Francis, uh, Bishop,

should I be worried about him?

Francis Bishop is the
literary equivalent of Valium.

Forget the other
guys, you're a shoo-in.

Prologue to Paris.

- That's a good title.
- No.

No, that's a bad title.

That's the worst title
since Gone With The Wind.

More importantly, I'm
throwing a big party tonight.

There's going to be women.

Alcohol. Women drinking alcohol.

I don't do parties,
Harold. You know that.

Well, that's a damn shame.

Cause you're going to
be the guest of honor.

Even worse.

So, that's a yes?

It's late and I'm confused.

I'm confused about a boy

who writes the most
beautiful stories in his

school newspaper.

I read each one carefully

and paste it in my
journal when I'm done.

And then I think
about approaching him.

But quickly realize
that I'm not very good

at being social.

And he's clearly not
good at being social.

I guess I'd tell him that

he's the most talented
person I've never met…

But I have met him.

Maybe that was a dream.

Love, Melody.

I don't think anyone named
Melody goes to this school.

You know, Melody might
not even be her real name.

Do you recognize
the handwriting at all?

It's nice. It's very elegant.

I should only be so
lucky with my students.

What do you think?

I mean, what should
I do? Who is she?

Maybe you already met her.
Have you met anyone recently?

Not really, I mean…

I have to find her, though.

Oh, I have a great idea.

So you walk up to every
girl that crosses your path,

both inside and
outside of class…

- Yeah?
- And you shout…

"Melody!"

"Melody!"

See what happens.

That… That's it?
That's your advice?

Yup.

Seriously?

Melody?

Melody?

Hey, Melody?

Melody?

Melody.

Melody.

Uh, Melody? Melody? Melody?

Uh, Mel…

Melody? Melody? Melody? Melody?

Uh, excuse me.

Pardon the announcement. Um…

But would anyone named Melody

please report to
the front office.

I repeat, anyone named Melody,

uh, please report to the
front office immediately.

This is an urgent matter.

Um…

Anybody who writes under
the pseudonym, Melody, just…

Just come to the front…

Get outta here, you savages.

Go eat some hors d'oeuvres.

Feed on the blood of the young,

whatever it is you do.

Here, all the greats
drink whiskey.

That's a fact.

How soon before I can go?

It's like throwing a
party for Silvia Plath.

Come on, I have to talk
to you about something.

The Big P.

I need you to be
encouraged by it.

I want you to embrace it.

It means a lot
to a lot of people.

Not least of which,
should be you.

You deserve it.

Yeah, and what about Bishop?

He's a hack.

Guy writes six mediocre books.

All of a sudden, he
comes up with one

that people actually
buy. It's bullshit.

You need to get
your head straight.

Take a vacation.

Finish your second novel.

Get inspired.

It's hard, I'm
telling you, Harold.

It's hard to get inspired.

You want inspiration?
I'll give you inspiration.

- Ladies and gentlemen…
- No, don't…

Your attention, please.

Mr. Sidney Hall is a
finalist for the Pulitzer Prize.

Give it up for Mr. Sidney Hall.

You had to do that, huh?

- You just had to do…
- That wasn't so bad, was it?

Listen, Sidney.

Whether you believe it
or not, I'm on your side.

I understand what
you're going through.

I've had three of the ugliest
divorces in American history

and I survived them all.

They're like enemas.

They're uncomfortable
and invasive,

but the next day you
feel like a new man.

You need to find
yourself a muse.

Loosen up, you know what I mean?

I'll round back to you in a bit.

Don't leave. I want you
to meet my daughter.

Hey, hey. Excuse me.

Yeah, um…

Could you… Could
you send this drink,

while you're there,
could you send it

over to that girl right there?

Black hair.

Thank you.

This is for you

from the gentleman
in the corner.

Right there.

You couldn't just walk 15
feet and give it to me yourself?

You had to send it over
from a safe distance?

Is that part of the…

Sidney Hall mystique?

What's your name?

Alexandra.

If you don't wanna
take the drink,

I'll gladly take it from…

You.

Okay.

You have to leave
Lewis Chang alone.

I don't even want to
see you looking at him.

That goes for Greg and
Pyat and all the other goons.

What do you care about him for?

I mean, look at him,
he's asking for it.

I don't see him asking for it.

Fine. Whatever, Hall… Look.

You better shed
some serious light

on the situation if I'm
going to throw away

one of the few things I have
to look forward to every day.

Does that mean you'll stop?

Yeah, I'll stop.

But if he ever
grows enough balls

to start up with
me, I swear to God…

Yeah. Yeah. Yeah…

You'll shove his dick
up his ass or whatever.

He's not gonna start with you.

We have a deal?

I'll pick you up Saturday.

You live over in Cedar, right?

Yeah.

Across the tracks,

as my dad would say.

Dad?

Yeah.

Never mind.

No! No, no, wait!

Jameson.

Jameson.

Hello.

Hi. Hi, is this, uh, Melody?

Shit.

This guy is good.

This guy's really fucking good.

You, sir,

have been drinking
since I met you.

It's a very bad habit.

And incidentally, I'm getting

kinda tired of pretending
like we don't know each other

every time we go out in public.

I'm sorta married.

Are you sorta divorced?

Sorta separated?

You're Harold's daughter.

I think he can handle it.

You're his meal ticket, so…

Maybe today.

Okay.

I think you should take one
of these and some of this.

Gonna get some sleep, and
then tomorrow's going to happen…

I'm tired of sleeping.

My entire life, I
can't think of one

positive dreaming
experience, only nightmares.

Is there any
particular nightmare

that I can help you with?

Well there's this
one, recurring one.

- Yeah?
- Yeah.

Where I'm being followed.

Everywhere I go. He's with me.

And I get claustrophobic.

Like he's

strangling me.

Like he knows all the bad
things that I've ever done.

And he's coming to judge me.

And when I wake up
from this nightmare,

he's still there.

I don't know what he wants.

But he knows
everything about me.

That's what scares me the most.

Good morning.

Mr. Tidemand.

I wonder if you by chance know…

This man.

Have you seen him
recently, Mr. Tidemand?

I'd like you to take a good
long look at this mug shot

because it was
taken very recently.

Okay, so?

No one has claimed to
see or hear from Sidney Hall

in over five years.

And yet here he is, posing.

For New York City
Police Department.

Now how is that possible?

He was booked
under another name.

What do you want from me?

What I want to
know, Mr. Tidemand,

is if there are things
that you make,

other than these beautiful

wood trolls.

It's a trick.

What is?

I think you know
what I'm talking about.

I'm not after you, Mr. Tidemand.

I'd like to offer you a trade.

You give me the information
about the documents you forged

for Sidney Hall.

And I give you my word,

you will never see me again.

All right, but just
so we're clear,

this conversation
is being recorded

on both sides of the table.

Fair enough.

…was here a few months ago.

And?

I made him a couple ID's,

a passport and
a drivers license.

What else?

He didn't look good.

He said he had some
loose ends to tie up.

Did he say where he was going?

No, that's all I know.

Hey! Hey!

No crossing the street.

Okay.

Okay.

I just…

Is your name Melody?

Have we met before?

Yes.

We met.

When?

In the first grade.

You gave me a Valentines
Day card on the wrong day.

And then

on the actual Valentines
Day, you kissed me.

And I told on you.

And I would have kissed
you back, the next day…

But we moved. We
went south for a little bit.

Now you've moved back?

Why do you keep
running away from me?

I don't know.

Because it's fun.

Maybe I'm afraid.

- Afraid of what?
- Uh! No crossing the street.

All right. All right, I won't.

I just…

When can I cross the street?

What the fuck you doing, Hall?

I was having a moment.

Until you showed up.

Well, come on, let's go.

You wanna smoke?

No.

What's that, a journal?

Yup.

How long you kept one of those?

Since I was five.

You know, I wasn't
lying to you before.

About the essay.

I loved that shit, man.

All that stuff you rant about

in the school paper,
shit makes me laugh.

You should write about me.

Oh, yeah? What
would that be about?

My father.

Your father? What about him?

You know who my father is?

Yeah, he's a… He's a judge.

So what, doesn't mean I
should write a book about him.

Doesn't make you any
more interesting either.

Whatever, man.

You'll be singing a
different tune tomorrow.

What happens tomorrow?

May I come in?

Yeah.

Your elevator's stuck again.

Oh, Duane,

it's 6:00 in the morning.

Not in Oklahoma.

Great.

"The night served
as a tragic setting

"in the town of Oklahoma City

"where an aspiring
writer, Henry Crowe,

"committed suicide
in front of his parents.

"After a failed attempt
to kill his step-father

"with a 9mm handgun,

"he turned the gun on himself

- and shot himself in the head."
- I don't understand.

"The only thing
found on his person

"was a paperback copy
of Suburban Tragedy

"by renowned
author, Sidney Hall.

"He owned no less than
eight copies of the novel

"and according to friends,

"often quoted
passages from the book.

"Henry Crowe is one of
many in a growing allegiance

"of Suburban Tragedy followers

"who take the book so literally

"that they will attempt
to mimic its message

"and expose the underbelly
of Suburban America

"no matter what the cost.

"The book has already been
banned in school libraries

"and teaching
curriculums in Montana.

"And this incident
will undoubtedly

"spiral its resistance upwards,

"Possibly at a national level."

How young was he?

- It doesn't make a difference.
- How young was he?

Twenty-two.

This book has
inspired more people

than you can possibly…

Inspired people to do
what? Kill themselves?

Whatever happens
over the next few weeks,

this is not your fault.

They'll make it my fault.

Maybe. For a news cycle, but…

You don't read the
Internet anyway, okay,

so just… Just continue that.

Continue that, all right?

Now, this book

is essentially feeding our youth

a dangerously blind idealism.

Promoting disrespect
for our elders.

A generation bred
on entitlement.

And the fact that
it's being included

in our school curriculum

is a dangerous
sign of the times.

How do you feel about the
book burnings in Oklahoma?

Well, you have to buy
'em in order to burn'em.

So, maybe sales will go up.

Next?

Any validity in the comparisons

between Henry Crowe

and the lead character
in Mr. Hall's book?

No. No. No. The
character in question

kills himself with
a knife. Not a gun.

And any comparison
between the two

is ridiculous horseshit.

- Next.
- Do you think this book

will become federally censored?

And might it have an effect
on the Pulitzer nomination?

I highly doubt that it
will be taken seriously.

And I couldn't care less about

Senator Dale's
campaign for fascism.

If he doesn't like the
book, don't read it.

Do you think he's read it?

I really don't give a shit.

But don't quote me on that.

But enough about me,

at this time, Sidney would
like to make a statement.

Please hold all
of your questions

until after he's finished.

It saddens me that
a life has been lost.

My heart goes out

to Henry Crowe's
family and friends.

I empathize with them,

and hope that brighter
days will appear sooner

rather than later.

That said…

I apologize for nothing.

I cannot predict

what reaction any
particular individual

may or may not have to
something I have written.

Nor can I live in
fear, or restraint

anytime I write a
word on a page.

I can only hope

that in time, the books I write

will have a positive impact.

It is sickening

to see that some congressmen
are using this boy's family

during their time of
grief for political gain.

It's shameful.

Furthermore, um…

I'm sorry…

Furthermore…

- I'm so sorry.
- Are you all right?

Uh, that will be all,
ladies and gentlemen.

Thank you all for coming.

There is some
evidence of scar tissue

on the side of your brain.

I think you're having
partial seizures

It could be from trauma.

Could be the result of a
serious blow to the head.

Has anything like that
ever happened to you?

Last week,

you called me, you claimed to be

seeing things "outside
the realm of reality."

Hallucinations.

Are you still experiencing
these aberrations?

I'm… I'm sorry, I have to go

Sidney there's
medication you can take.

Hey, Hall,

I don't have all day.

Look man, you
don't have to tell me

whatever's in the box

It's fine, it's your right.

I would like a little gratitude.

You want something else, Hall?

The Lewis Chang deal
ain't enough for you?

No, no, that's not
what I'm saying.

I just don't like
being treated like shit.

You like Melody Jameson.

I saw you talking
to her in the street.

Yeah dude, she's
my little sister's friend.

What's she like?
What's she interested in?

Is she… Is she cool?
Does she read?

Does she read?

Yeah, she's "Hooked on Phonics."

Dude, I don't
fucking know, Hall.

Jesus Christ, I'm
not into girls who like…

Long walks on the
beach and all that shit.

I mean, I could
introduce you to her.

If you're having trouble.

I'm not having trouble.

Oh, yeah.

Yeah, right. You really sealed
the deal in the street there.

God knows you're too
pussy to ask her out,

I might as well do it for you.

All right, out of
sheer curiosity,

what would you do?

Uh…

My sister's birthday
is this coming weekend

I can take her
to the fairgrounds

for ice cream or something

Coax Melody to tag along.

And you can show up
out of the blue and boom.

Next weekend, right?

Yeah.

So?

Think you can grow a dick
and a pair of balls by then?

Not that it'd matter anyway.
She's as prude as they come.

It'd take a crowbar
to get those legs open.

All right, thanks again man.

Oh, shit. Um…

Here, hide this. Now. Go.

- Now.
- Yeah. Yeah, okay.

What are you doing here?

Your sister told
me where you were.

The question is, what
are you doing here?

Hanging out with a friend.

Your mother has been
worried about you all day.

She called the goddamn police.

Overreact much?

Get out of the car!

What the fuck do
you think you're doing?

I'm just hanging
out with a friend.

You are driving home with me.

Say goodbye to your friend.

Hey, I gotta go, man.

I'll, uh… I'll come
back for the car later.

- Come on.
- Yeah, that's cool.

Remember, Hall.
You hold the key.

All right. You hold the key.

You hold the key.

You can hold this
fucking key. Get in the car.

Oh.

Okay. All right.

You're a peeping Tom.

You're a stalker.

A peeping tom-stalker.

Sidney, what are you doing?

Are you really going to
depend on Brett Newport?

I'm riding the Limited Express.

One of the crack
trains of the nation.

Hurtling across the prairie
into blue haze and dark air

go 15 all-steel coaches
holding a thousand people.

I read a story he
did in the fifth grade

about his dying grandfather.

And it was raw, but articulate.

It was…

Brilliant.

And I thought he plagiarized it.

And what did you do?

I had him stay after class

and I confronted him about it.

I told him, he couldn't possibly

have written that story.

And I wanted to know
where he copied it from.

And you know what he said?

He said, "I'll take
that as a compliment."

And then, he ran
out to catch the bus.

Now, that's the
thing about Sidney.

You become a fan, first.

And then, you spend
the rest of your life

trying to become a friend.

I have a theory

that he's been burning
copies of his books

in libraries and bookstores
across the country.

Why is that funny?

Sidney was a purist.

He never went online
or anything like that.

So, there's a world where
he may actually believe

that he could burn all
his books in existence.

Let me show you something.

He nearly burned down
the west wing of a library

a few weeks ago, in the city.

Someone fitting his description

was then seen in Harrisburg.

On a freight train.

Then West Virginia

And then a similar store
fire in Oklahoma city.

Each time, moving further west.

Does that mean anything to you?

Want some dinner?

It's for you.

No, no, not now.

It's a girl.

A girl?

Someone named Melanie.

Melody?

Uh, give it to
me. Give it to me.

- You know her?
- Yeah, I do.

- Do you go to school with her?
- Yeah.

Hi.

How do I accidentally
meet you tonight

if you don't show
up to the fair?

I thought it was too contrived.

Look, I know I've
been stand-offish

but I'm the one who
wrote you in the first place.

So don't be such a wuss.

Okay, well.

Where should we meet?

Outside your front door.

Aren't I supposed to be the
one giving you the flower?

Normally, yes.

But since I wear the
pants in this relationship,

it's the other way round.

So, how we getting there?

Are we talking your…
Your parents' car?

- Shh!
- What?

What? Why am I shh?
Why do you want me to shh?

- Push it.
- Push the car? Um…

Why don't we just
start the ignition?

- That's what people do.
- Shh. Just do as you're told.

Oh. Oh, we're stealing
it. We're stealing it.

We're borrowing with
the intent to return.

That's stealing.
That's still stealing.

Hop in.

Hop in? What do
you mean, hop in?

Okay.

It's okay…

Don't you think you
should turn on the lights?

Do you like it?

No, this is like the worst
sundae I think I've ever had.

It tastes like tape.

Tape. Yeah.

I used to chew on
tape when I was little.

Ew. Yeah.

Let's just throw the tape
ice cream in the trash.

So, uh…

So, tell me… Tell me, um…

How do you know
about my short stories

if you don't even
go to my school.

Is that like a thing you do?

Read all the school
newspapers in the county?

I get them from Darcy.

- I keep tabs on ya.
- Hmm.

Aspirations?

Inspirations?

Photography.

I love Annie Leibovitz.

She's like my hero.

Um, I love Bob Dylan.

I love horror movies.

You sure you're girl?

Um, old Atari games
and traveling everywhere.

You?

Uh, that's a tough
list to follow up.

I guess I've really just been
writing, reading, all my life.

I wanna write a novel.

Something that's going
to shake people up.

Well, if you wanna
write a book worthwhile,

you have to see the world.

Have experiences, right?

Yeah.

You should get on that, Sidney.

Be sure to take me with you too.

Okay.

Let's win something.

Hey, can we play?

You ever played this before?

No.

- I'm really competitive.
- Oh, oh!

Okay. All right.

Mine's not going.
Mine's not going.

All right.

I win.

Thank you.

Could I actually
have one of those?

It's not a prize, mind you.

But you're welcome
to have a look.

Johan Tidemand.

It's kinda beautiful.

Hey, Melody.

Can I, um,

talk to you?

You make these yourself?

From time to time.

It's a little hobby of
mine, when I travel.

How much, uh… How
would you want for this?

Listen, I only have, uh…

Keep it.

Thanks.

You're welcome.

Hey, Hall.

Hey, man.

Where you been all week?

I was… I was sick, dude.

Hey, so, um…

You still… You still
have that thing?

Yeah, I can bring it to the
finals on Monday if you want?

How's it going?

What do you mean?

You know what I mean.

Come on.

I'm gonna marry him.

So this is it?

Guess so.

Please, don't leave.

There's no room for
me here anymore.

I don't know what that means.

It means when I'm with
you, I don't feel like a person.

I feel like Sidney Hall's wife.

That's not true, Mel.

It is true.

When I'm with you,
it's just all about you.

Either your sad or
depressed or jealous or angry.

And those just aren't
attractive qualities

in case you wanted to know.

Mel, you're leaving me.

I just lost the
Pulitzer to Bishop,

a kid killed himself because
of something I wrote…

How am I supposed
to feel right now? Huh?

- See?
- What?

- It's all about you again.
- How am I supposed to feel?

That kid didn't kill himself
because of you, or for you.

He killed himself for the cause.

You're not going to take the…

Which left you a
really long time ago.

Where are you staying?
Where are you staying?

There's nobody else, if
that's what you're asking.

Please, stay tonight.

Stay tomorrow?

Yeah?

Hey, you weren't at
the party last night.

I thought we were
supposed to meet up.

Listen, Alexandra.

Sidney, I've been
doing some thinking.

And, I think we should
become more serious.

What does that mean?

Means that, what
we're doing is fun but…

But I know it's not long-term.

I can't do that and you know it.

I want to fall in love
with you, Sidney.

Please, don't.

I think I already am.

Well, when you are finished

falling in love with me,

you know where the door is.

Are you for fucking…

Melody?

No, Gina. Remember?

Personal assistant who
you haven't called in a week?

Melody.

Drink this.

Come on.

Well, looks like
someone's been busy.

It's just words.

By the looks of it,
enough here for ten books.

Problem is, there's only
ten pages worth reading.

Okay. Which ten?

Doesn't matter which ten.

It's all just

first pages and first sentences.

There's no middle.

There's no end.

Characters keep
switching their identities.

Wish I could tell you

there's life and death

and plot twists.

And three generations of
richly drawn characters…

And hope, and courage.

Regrets.

But it's just one long,

intoxicating
masturbation session

with no climax.

When am I going to climax?

Okay, let's get you
to bed, all right?

When was the
last time you slept?

I need you to do me a favor.

All right? Burn 'em.

What?

Burn 'em.

Sidney, I'm not
burning your book.

Just burn 'em.

Okay, you're being
drunk and pretentious

and I'm going to
slap you in the face.

People work their entire lives

in this industry,
just to get a taste

of your praise and accolades.

You just want to
throw that away?

I'm not doing it.

Fine.

I'll just do it myself.

- Okay.
- Fire…

Fuck. Jesus.

Good morning, students.

This is the principal speaking.

I have very sad news.

A student here at Aubrey Field,

Brett Newport,
passed away last night.

His cause of death is
unknown at this time.

But he was a good
student and a great athlete.

I would like to
extend condolences

on behalf of myself
and the school faculty,

to his friends and family,

and I would like to ask everyone

if they could please rise
for a moment of silence.

I wish I could have been there.

Just five minutes
before he did it.

I would have shaken
him and just said,

"You have your whole
life ahead of you."

The good things
outweigh the bad.

That's just not true
for some people.

I always felt like
there was something

going on in Darcy's house.

Just something a little off.

Secrets, you know?

I've got to get out of here.

I'll go with you.

No, no, I mean, like…

Like I gotta get out of here.

Yeah. Me too.

Really?

Yeah, really.

My parents said they'd
give me the old Pacer

so we can leave
after the school year.

Where would we go?

We can just go west.

Just… Just go
west? I mean, just…

I found this thing the
other day, in a magazine.

Here, I tore it out.

It's really cool, though.

Don't you think?

Yeah.

It's in the middle of nowhere.

The sky is like really
blue. It's not all polluted.

Where is it?

I don't know.

It's somewhere in the
Western Hemisphere.

Well, that narrows it down.

No, but really,

seriously, we're
gonna go here one day.

When we're old. Like 30.

And it'll be on this date.

What's today?

May…

- Okay, okay, so on May 25th…
- Mmm-hmm.

…when we're 30 years old,

we'll go to this house.

And sleep on the lay of the land

until the sun rises.

And we'll bathe in
desert hot springs

before a tortoise attacks us.

What if we're not
together anymore.

We'll be together.

I mean, of course, we're
going to be together.

It doesn't matter.

Even if we're not
together anymore.

Even if we have
different families.

Other lives.

We just have this
one night together.

It's our night.

And what happens in the desert

stays in the desert

But we still don't
know where it is.

That's just a small detail.

Anyways, it's all
about beginnings.

And you already
have a beginning.

Yeah? What's that?

Well, you want to
write a novel, don't you?

Yeah.

Well, how about this?

A high-profile judge's son

kills himself in
front of the fam.

And you might have
been one of the last people

to see him alive.

If that's not a beginning
to a great book,

I don't know what is.

No.

Stay.

Shit.

Oh, shit. Come on.

- Sir.
- Yeah, we're good.

- Sir.
- Thank you. I'm good.

Sir, I need you
to stay right there.

Yeah.

I got you.

Step back to the car for me.

Is there any way I can
get a lift somewhere?

Sir, we're not a taxi.
We're arresting you.

Open container.

I was just laying down
there, that's not even mine.

Ow!

It's all right, Homer.

What are you going
to do with my dog?

Animal control is going
to take care of him.

Please don't hurt my dog.

- Please.
- Watch your head.

Please don't… Ow!
Please don't hurt my dog.

Roger that, bringing
him around now.

Haven't seen this one before.
His name is Brett Newport.

It's a New York ID. 953383.

That's Brett Newport. 953383.

Good evening, ma'am.

My name is Duane
Jones. I teach English

at the high school.

Something wrong?

Oh, no. No, no.

Not at all. As a matter of fact,

Sidney's one of our
brightest students.

I was wondering if I
could speak with him.

Make it quick. He's grounded.

Well, I'm not
getting any younger.

I almost got in an
accident on Route 9

because my mind
was so scattered.

And I was…

I was thinking about you and
all the trouble you get me in.

I hope you appreciate it.

Why didn't you tell me
you started writing a book?

Oh, I don't know.

It's just something
I was working on.

I thought I'd ask you…

I was curious about your…

Your thoughts on it.

Well, I've read what
you have this far.

And I thought it was…

Manipulative.

It manipulated me
through the first chapter.

It forced me through the second.

It dared me to reach the third.

It was honest.

Personal. Valid.

I loved it.

I wanna know what happens next.

- You do?
- Yeah.

Of course, your
choice of subject matter

is… It's a bit controversial.

And as brilliant as the
pages are right now,

you're gonna get
some heavy criticism

for it down the road.

Down the road? What do you mean?

Uh…

I took it upon myself
to send your pages out

to some friends of mine

who are in the
publishing business.

Um, but did anyone respond?

Yes.

Uh, who?

Porter House.

Porter House?

Mmm-hmm.

What did they say?

They said it was strong.

They want to meet with
you as soon as possible.

There could be money involved.

- Really?
- Yeah,

now, uh, any situation

a professional writer would
call upon someone to, uh,

hold meetings, negotiate
and things like that.

And seeing as how you're
inexperienced in those…

Those sorta things, um…

I was just wondering if…

Just wondering if…

You wanna be my agent?

Yes.

Uh…

- If you'd have me…
- Please, please, yes.

- Of course.
- That's great.

This is great.

Blowing my mind. I don't even
know what to say right now.

We'll meet with them
tomorrow at 1:00.

1:00? What about class?

Fuck it.

Brett Newport.

Newport.

You posted bail.

Mr. Hall?

You bailed me out?

Well, what do you want?

I'd like to

ask you some questions

Are you hungry?

There's a diner just
down the road and if…

If you're hungry, I'd
like to buy you a meal.

Look, man.

You wanna take me out
on a date or something?

That's cool. I'm easy.

You're just gonna have
to get my dog out too,

otherwise I'm not
going anywhere.

I've already taken care of that.

Okay, let's eat.

Hmm.

Mr. Hall, I've been
searching for you

for the better half of a year.

I'm a big fan.

I've studied both
of your novels.

Suburban Tragedy
and Stay of Execution.

I…

I find them to be

extraordinary forms of map work.

Map work, huh?

You're a psycho fan, aren't you?

No. No.

Well, I mean, maybe a little.

Life isn't very interesting
if we're not a bit psychotic.

Look…

I'm, uh… I'm not
a writer anymore.

You understand what I'm saying?

I don't have any money.

I, uh… There's
nothing I can give you.

That's not what interests me.

I've come here
with the intention of

presenting you with a deal.

In return for me
posting your bail,

I would like to ask you a favor.

However, I need you
to say yes to this favor

before I actually tell
you exactly what it is.

No. No way. You have
to tell me what it is first.

You're not really in a
position to bargain, Mr. Hall.

Your propensity for
starting fires in public places.

Has you at a disadvantage.

But don't worry, what I ask you,

it will not take long.

Oh, great, now why'd you
have to go and say that…

First it was a favor, and now
it's a time-consuming favor.

Well, there's nothing
to be afraid of,

it may even be therapeutic.

Therapeutic?

Do you have any idea
what kind of fucked up things

I'm imagining right now?

- Then I suggest you say yes.
- Yes!

Sure! Jesus Christ,

just tell me what it is before
I have a heart attack already.

I want to write a
book about you.

Say again?

I want to write your
biography. Your life.

You want to write
a book about me?

I would like to write
a book about you.

Absolutely not. No. No, no, no.

Yes. Yes. Yes.

Have you ever written
anything before?

I know what you've written.

You're one of the
best writers of our time.

Don't get ahead
of yourself, I'm not…

That would be Francis Bishop.

Have you ever
read Francis Bishop?

Won the Pulitzer the
year I was nominated.

Maybe he didn't deserve it.

No, he, uh, he
deserved it all right.

His follow-up book was
proof enough of that.

My follow-up was
self-indulgent and pretentious

so if you want to write about

the greatest writer of our time

I suggest you write about

Francis Bishop.

No, I'm no good
at autobiographies…

Look, I don't know
what to tell you then.

You're Francis Bishop?

Nah. The badge you flashed me.

The badge.

To tell you the truth, I
got this at a dollar store

and it must be a
very good replica

because I've never
had a single person

ask me a question about it.

A dollar store? You
mean like "Just-a-Buck"?

"Just-a-Buck."

Hold on… Do you
mind if I see this?

No, please.

Oh, my God. This is not real.

This is fake. You're
not fucking lying.

No.

How many people
have you shown that to?

Just about everyone
from here to New York City.

Wait. Wait, you impersonated
an officer of the law.

You know that's illegal, right?

I showed that to real
police, they didn't even flinch.

You're crazy, man. I
thought I was fuckin' nuts.

You're fuckin' crazy.

You know, I always wanted to

get into investigative
journalism,

I never really did, but
I went full out on this.

And/or it could have something
to do with a mid-life crisis,

I'm not sure which. However,

nonetheless, here I am.

Wow.

- You have a family?
- A son.

Very handsome son.

What are you doing here?

Visiting my wife.

Well, she's busy.

What is that?

You found it?

I bought it.

For you.

And we can go there
whenever you want.

We can go there right now.

It's yours.

You wanna go there right now?

- I can't do that.
- Why?

Because we're not
kids anymore, Sidney.

What about…

I can't just get in a
car and go off forever.

What about being
spontaneous. Going west?

Remember we used
to talk about that?

New beginnings.

You're a photographer. You
can shoot from anywhere.

- I can write from anywhere.
- Sidney…

Don't do that, please,

just if you don't
want to go west,

we don't need to go west,

we can go north, south,
east, Europe, Asia.

Wherever you want. I
just want to be with you.

I'm pregnant.

It's yours.

So no.

I can't just go west.

I don't get to be
spontaneous anymore.

Do you even care?

Of course I care. Don't…
Don't do that. Please. Please.

Because if you care,
things need to change.

I will change everything. I'll
change anything you want.

Are you cheating on me?

No.

- This is your only chance…
- I'm not cheating on you.

This is the only
time to tell me.

I get it, we haven't
been together.

I'm not…

This is your one
get-out-of-jail-free card.

I'm not… Listen, I'm done.

I'm done with that. I promise.

You're my best friend.
I miss you so much.

Please. Just give us a chance.

I want to bring up
this child with you.

Oh.

If we want this to work,

we need to get
back to this moment.

The rest of our lives have to
be as true as this moment was.

Here.

Look, Francis, you
know, I'm a fan of yours.

I like your
writing. I really do.

But I'm not exactly the
kind of guy that opens up.

You realize that

both your books are still on

The New York
Times bestseller list.

I had no involvement in the
release of that second novel.

I know it was a success.

I know that they hailed it

some sort of
stream-of-conscious bible.

But it's just a bunch of
unfinished sentences.

- Unfinished sentences.
- Unfinished sentences.

Probably some of
the most honest writing

that you have ever done.

That's why it's even
bigger than the first book.

I wrote a story,
people bought it.

Mr. Hall. You have
become the story.

- You are the story now.
- Bullshit.

You know what
I think bullshit is?

I think bullshit is…

It's people who wander
around the country

pretending to be other people.

You wake up in the
morning, you look in the mirror.

I don't care what
you tell yourself,

you're going to be
Sidney Hall period.

I mean, some writers they
don't even find their voice

until they're I don't know what…

And here you are, you're
out wasting your time,

what are you, age 30?

But what do I know?
What do I know…

You don't know
anything about me.

I'd really like to.

Mr. Hall.

I understand your reservations
about the biography.

I respect your decision.

I do suspect, however,

that once I leave here, you're
not going to be contacting me.

So before I leave, there's
something I want you to know.

This has been a very
personal journey for me.

I want you to know that

my son probably
wouldn't alive today if…

If he hadn't randomly
picked up a book

called Suburban
Tragedy out of my study.

His mother passed
away recently and he…

He didn't really speak to anyone

until he read your book.

So I guess you could say that
you brought my son back to me.

And he is everything to me.

He's all I've got.

If our paths never cross again,

it's been an honor meeting you.

Only for a brief moment.

Francis.

You deserved it.

The Pulitzer.

You really did,
it's a great book.

You know you should
really call your Dad.

Your mom walked out on him.

Just in case you wanted to know.

Okay, I'll change the subject.

- So I was thinking of names.
- Names?

For our baby.

- Baby names?
- Mmm-hmm.

- The little nugget.
- Mmm-hmm.

If it's a girl… Helen.

Which is really pretty. And
then if it's a boy, Homer.

- Homer. Homer. No…
- You don't like it?

Homer, no. He's going to get
his ass kicked with that name.

- You can't name a kid Homer…
- MELODY: Why? I like it.

I don't know about that…

Is it like Homer in
the Odyssey, Homer?

Or is it Homer like
Homer Simpson?

No, it's neither…
It's our Homer.

- It's his own thing.
- Doh.

Just think about
it, I think it's nice.

Do you recognize him?

Um, no. I thought
it was… Someone…

- Are you okay?
- Yeah.

Uh…

- I saw a doctor few weeks ago.
- What for?

Nothing, it was just a checkup.

Uh, some, you know,
headaches I've been having.

Well, we know where
those come from.

- Yeah, I'm fine.
- You're not fine.

You're obviously not fine

if you had to go
see a doctor about it.

I promise. It's nothing.

All right. Well, I have
to go to the bathroom.

This conversation
isn't over, okay?

Okay.

Sidney… Sidney… Sidney…

I'm still your friend, Sidney.

He writes about confrontation,

but in real life, he avoids it.

Sidney… You lost
the Pulitzer to Bishop.

The core of our nation is etched

inside these plastic smiles.

Endless rows of nowhere houses.

Are you fucking my
daughter, Sidney?

Are you fucking my daughter?

You have to talk to
the press, Sidney.

You can't avoid them forever.

You should be
ashamed of yourself…

Are you fucking my daughter?

Hi, Sidney.

Are you married, are you
not married? What's going on?

'Cause I'm getting a little
confused. Where is she?

Hey, there was a long
line. Thanks for waiting.

Um, I think I've decided,

I'm just going to
have the risotto.

She wants the risotto.

What's going on?

She's a hallucination.

Yeah, I'm a fucking
hallucination, Sidney!

What's going on is I've
been fucking your husband.

In case you didn't
already realize that.

Or I don't know, is
he your husband?

Is he not your husband?
'Cause I can't really tell,

sometimes when he's
fucking me so hard,

I assume he's not your husband.

Then here you guys
are having a great dinner.

Wow, you're so surprised

because he's never
done this before.

I fucked your husband
in case you didn't get that

across your little
princess brain, baby!

Melody!

What is this? What
are you doing?

I'm leaving.

What do you mean you're leaving?

I'm leaving, that's
what I'm doing.

I'm leaving tomorrow, for good.

You're not leaving,
the hell you are!

I'm getting the
rest of my things.

Stop it, just let
me explain myself!

Just talk to me. Talk to me…

Explain what?

That you're a fucking
liar and a cheat?

With what money? You can't
even afford to get on a bus.

I sold a book.

What do you mean
you sold a book?

I got an advance
on a book I'm writing.

For how much?

That's none of your
business, how much.

It is my business!

How many were there?
How many were there!

- Please, don't do this.
- Two! Four! Ten! How many?

It didn't mean anything to me!

You're the only
one in my entire life

- that means anything to me.
- Don't give me that bullshit!

Everything is your business.
You go through my things.

You breathe down my neck!

I can't… I can't breathe
when I'm around you!

I've put every dime
I've ever earned,

I have put towards you!

That's Dad's money.
It's called disability.

It's not bullshit!

- Get the fuck away from me.
- All right.

You got to be
fucking kidding me.

This can't be fucking happening.

You wanna hit me? You
wanna slap your son?

- Come on, do it again.
- Don't you disrespect me!

Oh!

Maybe this is a
blessing in disguise.

We can finally talk about

the things we never
get to talk about.

I'm feeling claustrophobic.

You don't get to choose
when you leave me!

You don't get to choose.

When I had you, I
didn't have a choice!

I didn't get a choice
when I had you!

- You don't have a choice!
- Stop.

Let go of me! Why
are you defending him?

He's leaving me!

He can't… I won't…

Velouria…

Velouria…

- Let him go.
- No…

Lights won't come on…

Hello!

Can anyone hear me?

Is it because of the journals?

It's not just one thing, Mom.

It's not just one thing.

Hello! Hello! Can
anybody hear me?

Mel?

Mel, honey?
Where's your inhaler?

Where's your inhaler?

It's not in here. It's
not in your purse.

All right. Did you leave
it at the restaurant.

All right, just listen. Breathe.

Uh, we're going to be out
of here real soon, all right?

You'll be out of here
real soon. Just relax.

- Can anybody hear me?
- Yeah, you're down there?

Yeah. Hello! Hello!

My wife and I have been
trapped in the elevator

for quite some time
now. She has asthma.

She can't breathe very well.
We don't have her medication.

I'll call 911, but it
might take a few, okay?

Just hurry. Please.

Honey,

just hang in there,
it'll be all right.

It'll be all right. Please.

I'm sorry…

I'm so sorry.

Mel…

I failed…

You deserve so
much better than this.

You deserve more than me.

I'm right here. Can you
hear that? Can you hear that?

They're almost here, just
a few more minutes, okay?

All right?

I'm here. I'm right here
with you. Just calm down.

Breathe…

The entire Southwest
on wildfire alert…

I'll be back, the day before.

We'll get some dinner,

I'll take you out
with all your buddies.

I look forward to meeting her.

Sidney Hall was recently
declared deceased…

All right, I love you too…

…has reemerged an hour ago.

All right, goodbye.

Renowned author was admitted

to Taos General Hospital,
in Taos, New Mexico.

This is the first time that

the notoriously reclusive
Mr. Hall has been heard from

or seen in public
in over seven years.

Those at the hospital
say his condition is critical.

Hello?

When he gained consciousness,

we asked him who
he wanted us to call.

You were the only
one he mentioned.

You're the only person
he wants in the room.

What happened to him?

There are
indications of scarring

on the right side of his brain.

His liver is barely functioning.

And he has a history
of seizures. Simply put…

He's been going for years
with no medication or treatment.

Is he going to be all right?

His body is failing
him, Mr. Bishop.

But his mind still seems sharp.

He claims it's the comfiest
bed he's slept in, in years.

Well, I guess I'll go in then.

This is the home we've
been waiting for, all right?

I haven't seen
her in a long time.

Almost forgot.

I swore I'd never forget this.

Mr. Hall.

Call me Sidney, for fuck's sake.

Okay.

Where's Homer?

He's at the house.

I promise you I'll
take care of him

until you get out of here.

You see that, right there?

There's a package…

It's just a portion
of my writings.

And scribblings. Just
stuff from over the years.

It's yours if you want it.

Use it.

Do what you want with it.

There are three reasons
why I called you here today.

One is that…

I want you to write
this little book of yours.

Two.

…is that there's something
I never documented

that I need to get off my chest.

And the third is…

You're the only person I know.

Where do you want to start?

We'll start with the person

Suburban Tragedy is based on.

His name was Brett Newport.

And this is how I killed him.

What's in it?

None of your business.

Here, hide this. Now! Go…

Get out of the car!

Remember, you hold the
key. All right… You hold the key!

He wasn't in school on Monday.

He was probably
grounded and beaten,

which would have explained
the bruises I saw on his face

later that week.

Hey, so, um, you
still have that thing?

Yeah. Yeah. I can bring it

to the finals on
Monday if you want.

I stared at that lunch
box for over half an hour.

What was the best
way to go about this?

Melody was still
forefront on my mind.

Somehow I felt
obligated to bring closure

to this current development.

Even now, deep down I knew
that once I opened that box,

it would ultimately
not be the ending

or rather the beginning of
something very unfortunate.

Did you watch it?

Look man, it's, uh…

It's really none of my business.

Did you watch it?

There, documented on video

was Brett's Father,

Judge George Newport,
having sex with an underage girl.

And when it was finally over,

he would arrange for a car
to take her back to school,

middle-school
by the looks of it.

And then just minutes
after the Judge left,

it all came together.

Smart kid.

Who would have known

underneath that football helmet

was such a damaged soul.

A soul that may well have
been on its way to greatness

had it not been
stilted by an upbringing

I couldn't even
begin to imagine.

I'm gonna kill him,
I swear to God,

next time he tries to touch me,

I'm gonna take a knife

and I'm gonna stab
him in his fucking neck.

Okay, look, man,

if you turn the tape
in to the authorities,

he won't be around
anymore. You know?

He rapes Darcy…

Okay. You're going to have to

turn in the tape as
soon as possible.

She doesn't say anything,
but I know he does it, man.

Because I can hear her cry,
some nights, through the wall.

Listen. Listen, this has to end.

All right. This has to end

and that's why we
dug it up. Right?

That's why we dug
it up. So this can end.

I'm gonna stab
the fucking bastard.

Listen to me, man,
don't do anything stupid.

Alright? Just wait until
Monday, we'll turn it in.

I'll go in with you.

Okay? I'll go with you.

I should have
turned that tape in.

I should have
listened to his words

and taken them more seriously.

But I didn't.

- This is Melody.
- Hi.

Are those my notebooks?

What's going on?

I found this in your VCR.

No… No, it's not what you think.

I don't know what to think.

I mean, I don't
know if it's porn

or some black market S'n'M shit

but it is much sicker than
I imagined you to have.

You know. And
after watching this,

I thought I better
read your journals,

because I better get
some insight into my son.

And all I read about was
drugs and masturbation

and black high school teachers,

and let's not forget about
the beautiful passages

about your mother, the whore!

The high school cheerleader

that got knocked
up by the tight end.

You don't understand, all right?

- Just give me…
- Don't understand?

- Stop it.
- Fuck you!

No! No! No!

You will learn about respect

when you write
about your mother!

Maybe next time
you'll think twice!

- No! No! Stop it! Stop it!
- Oh, fucking…

No. No.

Brett called me to ask
when we should meet up.

And I had to tell him
the tape was gone.

And he hung up on me.

He died on an
unusually cold Sunday.

Stabbed himself, in the stomach.

There were rumors

that he did it to
avoid military school.

But I knew the truth.

I killed him…

You can't blame
yourself for that.

I may not have been there
when the knife went in,

but I was there ever since.

He's been with me.

I know the entire
course of a person's life

can change, in a millisecond.

Do something.

- Do something. Do something.
- I'm trying to.

I'm trying to, let
me do something.

Sing.

- Sing what?
- Sing…

- Sing?
- Sing.

What do you want me to sing?
What do you want me to sing?

I'll sing anything you want.

All right… I'll sing.

I will.

Yeah…

If today was not
a crooked highway

If tonight I could
finally stand up tall

If tomorrow wasn't
such a long time.

Then lonesome would
mean nothing to me at all

Stay with me… Stay with me…

If only my love
was standing by me

If I could hear her
heart a-softly poundin'

If only she was lyin' by me

I'd lie in my bed

Once again

Stay with me.

I only know the first verse.

I don't know the second verse.

You want me to keep singing,

I'll keep singing for you.

If today was like
a crooked highway

If tonight I could
finally stand up tall

If tomorrow wasn't
such a long time

Then lonesome would mean nothing

To me at all

Breathe. Honey?
Honey? Sweetheart…

Mel? Mel? Mel… Wake
up. Come on, breathe.

Oh, no.

Once Melody left me,

it dawned on me,

looking out at all those
wonderful city lights,

that I was just one of
those millions of city lights,

a tiny little pixel,

buried within the
white noise of life,

blinking on for just a
brief second in time.

I didn't want to be a martyr.

I wanted to be nobody.

And I walked out
of that apartment

with only the
clothes on my back.

To become nobody.

I never returned again.

I just keep
replaying that scene.

Hoping against hope that
the ending would change.

That she would just wake up…

And say, "Sidney…

"I'm not leaving you just yet.

"I'm still pregnant."

Sidney.