Original subtitles

(electronic buzzing)

(coffeemaker clicks)

(cup dings)

(puts down cup)

(click, beep)

Well, good morning.

You haven't been waiting for me, have you?

Nah.

Like, maybe a little.

W-- Things ended all weird last week.

I-I can do weird if you can.

Well, who do you think you're talkin' to?

Weird is my shit.

(both laugh)

Hey, did you lose an earring?

Oh.

It's around here some place. (laughs)

Uh, heh, uh,

I wanted to tell you that

I am a woman of my word.

I said that if you dug in with me, I would make an assessment.

And I have.

I spoke to a psychiatrist I want to refer you to.

I appreciate that. And-and they'll write me a script?

Well, she might. Yes.

-Wait, might? -I asked Dr. Ahmadi for a second opinion,

so, at first,

she's gonna do her own assessment.

This isn't a one-and-done situation.

It's an ongoing relationship,

so she'll evaluate you and determine if--

Yeah, wait, wait, wait.

"Ongoing relationship"?

(scoffs) Dr. Taylor,

I-I can't afford that. That-that's not what we talked about.

You will be able to attend these sessions.

I'll make sure of it.

Are you...

paying for it, or...

Brooke: I'm letting you know

the resource is available to you.

Um...

Okay.

But, Eladio, I want to be honest

about my analysis,

about what I've shared with Dr. Ahmadi.

Yeah?

Brooke: I have serious doubts about

the validity of your bipolar diagnosis.

Yeah, I know that's gonna take a second to digest, so

I am going to walk you through every step

-of my thinking, and I'm gonna-- -(beep)

-(clicking) -What?

(light piano music playing)

♪ ♪

(birds chirping outside)

(line ringing)

Eladio (on voicemail): You part of the problem, hang up now.

-You part of the solution, leave a message. -(beep)

Eladio? It's Brooke.

We got disconnected, but it's still your hour.

Give me a call so we can continue.

-Everything okay, babe? -Oh Jesus!

-(laughs) -You... You scared me.

-Forget I was here? -(laughs) Impossible.

-I found your earring on the bathroom floor. -Oh, thank you!

Um...

I was about to make a coffee, you want some?

-God bless you. -(laughs)

Um,

-my next patient is in 20 minutes. -Okay.

(coffeemaker buzzing)

Coming here...

-...to the house... -Oh. Oh.

-So that's my cue. Mm-hmm. -(laughs) Yes.

Um, but dinner tonight?

Maybe Japanese?

We could get takeout

from some place on Sawtelle.

Maybe I pick up some Kiriko on my way back over?

Oh. Well, God bless you.

(laughs)

Gimme five minutes, it'll be like I never existed.

(laughs)

♪ ♪

(typing)

Brooke: If I'm hearing you right, Marsha,

it's more than that, isn't it?

The way you describe him, it's almost a...

ritualistic iciness.

This is a gorgeous time to be in New York.

I'm glad you made it safely.

Patient 1 (on computer): Me, too. Check it out.

Oh my goodness! That is a penthouse view!

(patient 2 crying)

Mm-hmm.

♪ ♪

(sighs)

(line ringing)

Eladio (on voicemail): You part of the problem, hang up now.

You part of the solution--

(typing)

(door opens, shuts)

-(sends text) -Goddammit.

Whoa!

Easy, Tiger.

Come on in here. I got the cure for whatever that was.

Come on.

My buddy, Will, turned me on to Nigori.

I mean, at first, it kinda freaked me out.

I mean, I do not like milky liquors, like...

White Russians and Brandy Alexanders, like, hm...

-(laughs) -Fucking disgusting. But-but this? I mean...

-Do-do you mind? It's bad luck and all. -Mm.

-You sure you don't want any? -I've had sake before, Adam.

Fair enough.

Do you wanna talk about what's going on with you?

Been on edge all day.

Not all day.

It's my patient.

Young guy? Think he's upset.

Okay.

(sighs) We got disconnected today,

and he hasn't responded to my messages or texts, or anything.

(R&B music playing)

-What'd you do? -What did I do?

I did my job.

I've been questioning

a previous psych diagnosis of his for weeks,

and I thought that I should share that with him,

and he hung up.

(music continues)

And you've never had a patient get mad at you before?

-Of course, I have. -So what's so special about this guy?

(music continues)

What's today really about, babe?

It's complicated. (sighs)

Is it?

Because if...

if this is about you needing to care

for this kid in a...

on a deeper level because...

you haven't been able to be a mom,

I get that.

I do.

Do you wanna be a mom, Brooke?

'Cause we could do it.

We-we could do it, Brooke. I mean,

it-it's not something that... (scoffs)

I thought I'd be interested in doing with anyone,

but with you? I-I'd do it tomorrow.

(laughs)

You don't think I'm too old?

Too old? What, are you kidding? This is LA.

It's Never-Never-Land. Until, one day,

it's, you know, it's now.

Yeah, but we're...

we're...

-You and me... -Yeah.

Yeah, but maybe...

this could be the thing

that finally makes us an "us."

It's not crazy, Brooke. I mean,

it's not even a stretch. I mean, you're hardwired.

You-you take care of people all day.

(laughs) I deal with people one hour at a time.

I-I get to show up,

and, yes, I do invest in them.

But once that time is over, I move on.

That is not what a child is.

(laughs) Like your patient today?

When you got to the end of his session, you just moved

-right along with your day, right? -I love you.

Mm-hmm.

Which is another

perfectly good reason why we should do this.

I love you, and I have something I need to tell you.

I've started searching for my son.

♪ ♪

So far, it's been a dead end, but...

I talked to an adoption lawyer, and he's convinced he can help.

Hm.

And Rita seems to think it's a good idea.

It's just, uh...

And I would explain it if I could...

(inhales, exhales)

It's just that my whole life, it's just...

been this, um...

I'm real.

My son is real.

I know. Of course.

But mostly...

he's an idea.

I'm real.

And we have a chance to...

make something real together.

A family.

What's stoppin' us, Brooke? We can do this.

We could figure this out.

-We-- -(phone ringing, buzzing)

-(scoffs) Hey, we're in the middle of something here. -(ringing, buzzing)

(ringing, buzzing)

-(ringing, buzzing) -I'm sorry,

but it's not like we're gonna solve

this heavy, huge forever decision right this second.

You're really gonna take that?

I have to.

Eladio?

Are you there?

Say something, Eladio.

Eladio (on phone): What do you care?

I was worried.

Eladio: Yeah, okay.

I don't... I don't understand what this is all--

Why you trying to get rid of me, yo?

Brooke (on phone): I-- What?

Just admit it.

You know, just admit that you don't wanna treat me anymore,

and we can be done with it.

Why would I not want to treat you?

If I'm not sick, you don't have to help me anymore.

Isn't that what this is?

It's, like, so transparent, I'm-I'm insulted.

That's not it, Eladio.

I have plenty of patients who aren't bipolar.

-I-- -What am I to you?

Brooke: I just said, you're my patient.

No, really. Me to you.

What am I? Because, I'll be honest, yo,

you fuckin' confuse me. Some days,

it's like I think you're mad at me, that I'm too much for you,

and you'd be happy if I just stopped showing up.

Some days, I'm like, "Does this lady wanna adopt me?"

It's like Jeremy and his fuckin' harem of aides.

He's always thought those people really care about him.

That there's something more than just

a professional obligation on their part.

Like they like him or some shit.

But the second they're gone, they're gone.

But you like him.

I love him.

Dude deserves so much more than he gets,

and if I'm the only person that cares enough about him

to just cut through the bullshit and keep showin' up for him,

-then so be it! -And is it impossible to think

that other professional relationships

may share the same dynamic?

(insects chirping)

You know the doctor I saw in college?

-The one who diagnosed me? -Brooke: Sure.

She was young, like you.

Easy to talk to, like you.

I saw her for two fuckin' years. You know, she--

I thought she was my friend.

There are all different ways to describe friendship.

Eladio: Yeah, but she wasn't. I know.

You don't have to sugarcoat it but it doesn't change

how it felt.

Old girl knew everything about me.

Every sexual encounter.

Every abject thought.

Every insecurity, every relationship,

she knew all my shit.

Till one day, years in, she says,

"Eladio, I have a diagnosis."

And that made you mad.

Eladio: It was fuckin' betrayal, yo!

Like, I share all of this shit with you

just so you can use it against me?

I imagine...

that she thought she was helping.

Yeah, but two fuckin' years in?

Isn't that malpractice?

It can take time to gather enough anecdotal evidence--

I don't need you defending her

because your motives ain't clean. You know, like...

You and me, we got our own shit. There's somethin' there.

And I don't think it's just my personal mommy issues.

There's something.

You earned my trust,

which is no small task, and then you wanna

flip the script and rip the fuckin' rug out?

The way you talked about your bipolar diagnosis,

it sounds like it brings you pain.

I don't understand why you're suddenly so attached to it.

Eladio: I'm not attached to being bipolar.

I'm attached to fuckin' certainty.

You think I wanna be bipolar? Fuck no.

Everybody already thinks I'm crazy as it is.

I'm gonna give them ammunition to be fuckin' right?

Fuck that.

But that diagnosis was years ago, like...

I processed it. I read about it.

I went to support groups,

built relationships around it.

I met fuckin' Soyoung at a bipolar support group,

and we don't have much in common other than that,

but we have that.

-It, like, bonds us. -Brooke: I don't see how

my doubting your bipolar diagnosis

makes anything different between you two.

Two years ago, I tried to get into therapy by myself.

Told them I was bipolar, thought it'd be good to be upfront.

And they asked me if I was on medication, and I said, "No.

"You know, th-that's why I wanna be in therapy,

so I can get medication."

And they told me it was against their policy

to take on an unmedicated bipolar patient.

So I would have to somehow get back on medication

in order to get into the therapy I needed

to get back on medication.

That's a frustrating catch-22.

Eladio: So now, I'm, like, who should I be mad at?

What do you mean?

Should I retain my initial anger at my therapist

for misdiagnosing me, or should I be mad at you

for fuckin' with this thing I've already processed?

I can't answer that for you, Eladio.

All I can say is that

your feelings are real, and that you should

let yourself feel them.

Look, I'm not a doctor,

but I do live inside my body.

And, yeah, you know what? Some of the--

Maybe some of the things that other bipolar patients

talk to me about, I don't relate to.

I never tried to call the White House or talk to God.

I don't have delusions of grandeur or any of that, but...

I do believe my feelings are bigger

than other people's feelings. Good, bad,

don't matter. My feelings are bigger.

And how do you know your feelings are bigger

than other people's feelings? How do you determine that?

Well,

I talk about it,

and I see how people react.

Talk about what?

I know that when my heart starts to break,

and someone asks me what's wrong,

and I say, "Nothing. It's just that that cloud

is too beautiful to exist."

People tend to back away slowly

and get back into their vehicles.

I know that when my hands start shakin' with rage

in the booth at El Cochinito,

and the dude I'm on a date with asks me what's wrong,

and I tell him,

"Well, on my way to work, I saw a guy

"who looked like he had been sittin' in wet clothes

"for three days, and I did nothing to help him get dry,

and now I-I feel like I deserve to die."

Motherfuckers don't really seem super interested

in continuing to have breakfast with me.

Brooke: There's a lot of pain in the world.

A lot of beauty, too. We all respond in different ways.

It's really fuckin' hard for me to believe that what I feel

is the everyday, run-of-the-mill pain of being alive.

It's like with the bipolar...

like, it's rough, but at least it has a name.

It's somethin' to understand.

You-you can begin to cope with it because it's...

it's codified. It has a taxonomy.

It-it-it's understood.

It's verified. It's real.

In a way, it demystifies my suffering and allows me

to suffer in context.

And without it,

the pain doesn't have a name.

Yeah.

So, what the fuck do I do now?

I built an identity from the bones of this diagnosis,

and now you tellin' me...

I'm, what, I'm not bipolar?

I'm just an asshole.

Brooke: (laughing) You're not an asshole.

I think you have a superpower.

Get the fuck outta here.

Brooke: You care, Eladio.

You care so much about other people.

Eladio: I care 'cause...

-it's my job. -Brooke: No,

you are good at the job.

You got the job because you care,

and that's not...

(sighs)

We live in a world that's largely brutal.

A world where

cruelty and apathy are the air we breathe.

To tend, to care, to nurture.

(sighs) You might as well be able

to leap tall buildings in a single bound.

Yeah, well, you do the same thing.

I can't be that special.

You're right.

We are very similar in that way.

That's the difference between us.

I don't dismiss my power. I acknowledge it.

-(wind chimes ringing) -Are you there?

I'm here.

Brooke: And that's what I want for you.

For you to get the same care reciprocated.

You spend all your days, your time,

your energy, your heart.

You spend it...

purely in the service of Jeremy's dignity.

Why is it, Eladio,

that you can't bring yourself to expect

the same dignity in return?

(insects chirping)

♪ ♪

It's late.

(sighs) That's enough for tonight.

I want you to...

think about what I said, okay?

Really think about it.

(water lapping)

I'm around tomorrow, if you wanna talk.

All you gotta do is call.

♪ ♪

You're precious, Eladio.

♪ ♪

♪ ♪

♪ ♪