All language subtitles for You (2018) - S01E01 - Pilot (1080p AMZN WEB-DL x265 FreetheFish).srt - eng(2)

[dramatic piano music]

♪

[bells ringing]

♪

- Well, hello there.

Who are you?

Based on your vibe,
a student.

Your blouse is loose.

You're not here to be ogled,
but those bracelets,

they jangle.

You like a little attention.
Okay, I bite.

You search the books.

Uh, fiction.
F through K.

Now, hmm, you're not
the standard insecure nymph

hunting for Faulkner
you'll never finish.

Too sun-kissed
for Stephen King.

Who will you buy?

♪

- [gasps]
Sorry.

- You sound apologetic,

like you're embarrassed
to be a good girl.

And you murmur
your first word to me.

- Hello.

Do you work here?

- Guilty.

Can I help you
find something?

- Paula Fox?

- That's a good choice.

- Hmm, I feel
weirdly validated.

- [laughs]

Follow me.

She's gonna be in here.

- Celebrity authors.

I thought Fox
was pretty obscure.

- She is Courtney Love's
maternal grandmother.

You're not expected
to know that.

- Good, I didn't.

- Mr. Mooney
wants anyone in here

who's even
tangentially famous.

He thinks it sells
more books.

- That's sad--
people buying books

because of what's popular,
not because they want to be

moved or changed
in some way.

- Yeah.
It's an epidemic.

- Hmm.

- Yeah, you see this guy,

here with the glasses,
behind you?

He just grabbed Dan Brown's
latest on the way in.

So he's gonna wander around
for another, like,

five or ten minutes just
to find something legitimate

to buy with it.

- Oh, like the cereal
guys buy

when they're really there
for condoms?

Only makes it
more conspicuous.

Like, own your shit.

If Dan Brown's your kink,
then be out about it.

At the end of the day,

people really are
disappointing, aren't they?

- Sometimes
they surprise you.

[soft music]

Paula Fox, top shelf.
Do you want me to...

- Oh, no, I got it.

♪

- Oh, are you
not wearing a bra?

And you want me to notice.

If this was a movie,

I'd grab you and we'd go at it
right in the stacks.

Have you read
her fiction?

"Desperate Characters" is her--
it's her best.

- Oh, that's what
I keep hearing.

- You haven't read
"Desperate Characters"?

- I know. I know.

I'm worried it's not gonna
live up to the hype.

- I can safely say
it is that good.

- That's a high endorsement.

And from a bookstore clerk,
nonetheless.

- Well, it's
bookstore manager.

- Hello?
Anyone working here?

- Asshole.

- Oh.

Whoa.
- [laughs]

- Do you mind?
Uh, I'm in a hurry.

- He's just pissed
he's gotta buy Salinger

to feel respectable
when all he really wants to do

is eat Cheetos
and jerk it to iPorn

before washing it all down
with a Dan Brown chaser.

Have a nice day, sir.

- Okay, I'm going for it.

- Good, you won't regret it.

- Better not.

- Paula Fox, nice.

You know, she was, uh,
Courtney Love's

maternal grandmother.

- That's why I'm buying it.

- You have enough cash
to cover this,

but you want me
to know your name.

Guinevere?

- Yeah, my parents
were assholes

with the whole naming thing.

But everyone
just calls me Beck.

And you're Joe?

- Goldberg.

Everyone calls me Joe.

- [laughs]

♪

- Aren't you gonna tell me
to have a nice day?

- You have a nice day, Beck.

- You have one yourself, Joe.

♪

- You smiled,
laughed at my jokes,

told me your name,
asked for mine.

- She write her number
on there?

She was on you hard.

- No, she was just being nice.

- I'd be Googling the hell
out of her right now.

You know her full name.

- That's pretty aggressive,
Ethan.

- What do I tell you?

Always be closing that shit.

If you need me...
- If you need me...

both: I'll be in cookbooks

but for work, not for fun.

I swear.

- At the end of the day,

people are really just
disappointing, aren't they?

[dramatic music]

♪

But are you, Beck?

Are you?

♪

[hip-hop music
playing on car stereo]

♪

Yes, people find "the one."

I believe that.
I try to stay open.

I was in love once.

She broke my heart, Beck.

Oh, she really
did a number on me.

I should have seen the signs.

But we never do
when we're in love.

Exhibit A:
Claudia and Ron.

- Went out
for a couple of drinks.

Get off my back, Claudia.
- [yelling indistinctly]

- Claudia's a nurse.
Single parent.

- It's every night!
- It's not every night!

- You think she knew
Ron was a shitbag

when she fell in love?

No, she thought
he was a prince.

Hey, Paco.

- What's up, Joe?

- And now hers is not
the only life she ruined.

- Leave me alone!
I don't wanna talk to you!

- Is everything cool in there?

- Yeah, Mom and Ron
are just talking.

- No, man,
this isn't your house--

- Wow, you are burning
through that book, aren't you?

- Reads quick.

It's good.

- Well, let me know
when you finish.

I'll--I'll get you another one.

- All right, well,
I don't care about that!

- Are you hungry?

- [shouting indistinctly]

- 'Cause, you know, I just got
this meatball sub,

but I remembered I have Thai
from last night.

- [shouting indistinctly]

- No, my mom will just
make me something later.

- It's a shame.
This won't keep.

It's getting tossed.

- You sure, Joe?

- All for one
and one for all.

The point, Beck:
love is tricky.

- ♪ Shiny, shiny

♪ Shiny boots of leather

♪ Whiplash girl child
in the dark ♪

♪

- A guy needs
to protect himself.

I had to be sure you're safe.

And your name was
a glorious place to start.

Not a lot of Guinevere Becks.

And there you were.

Every account set to public.

You want to be seen...

heard, known.

Of course, I obliged.

Born and raised,
Nantucket Island.

A brother, Clyde,
and sister, Anya.

Your parents really were
assholes about the names.

Your folks split
when you were 12.

Your dad dropped out
of the picture.

Went to Brown, where you
majored in lit, cool.

And minored in douchebags,
mm.

And then on to NYC
to conquer an MFA

and make your mark,
presumably.

Now, you still write.
Barely.

Too busy living out moments
you won't remember

five years from now.

I know this because you
post about this life

all the goddamn time.

[indistinct chatter]

Candidly, it's
the least appealing thing

about you, Beck.

You posted this
hours after our encounter.

I was concerned.

You didn't mention that
cute guy in the bookstore.

And then I realized,
your online life isn't real.

It's a--it's a collage.

You paste this Beck up--

this, uh, together,
lovable, cute,

bendy little creature.

If anything, the fact
that you didn't share me

with your followers only
confirms we really connected.

The next thing our little
friend the Internet gave me

was your address.

♪

There it is,
with its big,

naked windows.

It's nice--
too nice.

I'm thinking subsidized
school housing.

Jesus, it's like you've never
seen a horror movie

or the news.

[soft dramatic music]

[beep]

♪

But you want people to watch,
don't you?

You know, I plan on asking you
about this quality

when we get to know
each other better.

A proposal:

why don't we spend the day
together tomorrow,

just you and me?

- To everyone out there
chasing their dreams,

don't give up.

And in the meantime,

Mac N Cheese!

- It's cute.

Not deep, but cute.

Is there more to you?

Let's find out.

♪

- ♪ You're mine

♪ And we belong together

- Our day starts
at the ass crack of dawn.

I know from your posted
schedule that you teach

a 6:30 class called
Get Up N Flow.

You caress the sweaty backs
of bulimic,

dead-eyed Real Mommies
of Soho...

- I am loving your form
today, Tasha.

- Offering smiles
and lies of encouragement.

♪

By 10:00, you're at campus
to TA a romantics class

and play Vanna White
to some shirt.

- Good morning,
Professor Leahy.

- I told you, it's Paul.

Are you ready for class?

- Professor Obvious
wants to fuck you.

But you're smart.

You--you let him think
one day, he might.

And what's the harm in that,
right?

- ♪ Together

- After class, you head
to your favorite cafe

to write for the first time
all day.

[cell phone buzzes]

But your life
doesn't cooperate.

Your wealthy girlfriends
have just now woken up

and have nothing better to do
than plan their next

pointless yet
Instagrammable night.

Can we get real for a second?

You have questionable taste
in friends, Beck...

- ♪ You've been holding back

♪ For a lifetime

- Cheers!
- Cheers!

- Oh, yes, happy birthday!

[laughter]

- And expensive taste
in lives.

- Ready?
- Thank you.

[gasps]
- Do you like it?

- No, I hate it.

Of course I love it!

- Jason didn't even get her
something that nice,

and Annika finally
let him do anal.

[laughter]

Please.

Open my gift next and tell me

how much you hate me then,
lady.

- ♪ I'm not going
to let you go ♪

- [gasps]

A butterfly?

It's my spirit animal
for the year.

You remembered?

- Only 'cause you wouldn't
shut up about it.

- You want so badly
to be one of them.

- Happy birthday.
- You guys are so beautiful.

- They've got nothing
to do after this,

so yeah,
they'll party till 5:00

and scrape it together
tomorrow.

But you can't.
You have to work for a living.

- A McQueen, Beck?

How much was it?

- [chuckles]
It was on clearance.

- They haven't put
a McQueen scarf on clearance

since he hung himself in 2010.

It'd be too much
even if she did deserve it,

which she does not.

- Hmm, not all your friends
are dumb.

- You always do this.

You make, like, a big gesture
that you can't afford

because, I'm sorry,
you're too nice.

- It's no big deal.

I had, um,
a gift card.

- How broke are you?

Just tell me what's up.

- Actually sounds
like she cares.

- Look, I appreciate--

- Why don't you just let me
loan you some cash, okay?

I keep telling you
it's nothing.

- Also sounds condescending.

- You know I'd do
anything for you.

Don't forget that.

Sure you can't
come out with us?

- I gotta write.

- Virtuous.
Catch you later.

- ♪ There is nothing
in this world ♪

♪ That can keep me
from loving you ♪

- Is that the best friend
you've got?

If so, Beck,
you really are alone.

- ♪ I'm gonna break down
your walls ♪

- Your social media's a liar.

It says you're
a happy-go-lucky dilettante.

But underneath it all,
you seem like

the genuine article.

Stretched ADD thin, sure,

but as soon
as the door closes,

you're back at the keyboard,

trying to write.

[cell phone buzzes]

[dramatic music]

- [sighs]

♪

- Thanks.

♪

Keep the change, man.

♪

Hey, let me up.

- Uh, Beck,
who the fuck is this?

[dramatic music]

- My best friend walked in
on you getting your dick sucked

by some random woman
in a bathroom

at a party
that I took you to.

- I was wasted.
I didn't even finish.

- That's your apology?
"I didn't come?"

That's the one
you're going with?

- And I obviously shouldn't
have gone in the bathroom

with any girl
that wasn't you.

But she said
she had good coke,

and I've been
seriously stressed.

I thought when Johno and I
started our line,

it was gonna be, like,
picking out flavors and shit.

It turns out
it's 16-hour lectures

on microbial management.

And that's why no one
starts their own

artisanal soda company
and why America has to keep

drinking crap
that's giving them cancer.

- You actually managed to
connect your illicit blow job

to curing cancer.

I'm genuinely impressed.

- Beck, I--

- Seriously,
I am drowning in work.

I don't have time
to keep hooking up

or whatever it is
you're even capable of.

- I know I've done
some stupid shit.

But I'm on it now.

I don't wanna be just some guy
that you sleep with.

God, you make me insane.

♪

- Way to go, Beck.
Looks like a catch.

♪

Benjamin J. Ashby III.
Oh, there's three of them.

Greenwich born,
boarding school bred.

His father is the Ben Ashby
of Ashby Brokerage.

Two failed careers.

Model--oh, boy.

And cocreator of a dating app

that connects people
through musical tastes

called LoveHooks.

Current CEO of Home Soda
Artisanal Beverages.

Motto: Drink Better by Hand,

which makes no sense
but evokes a homespun quality

that lines up with a guy who
wears $600 Japanese sneakers.

The hair.

The privilege he tries to hide

with retweets
of Black Lives Matter.

Not to sound judgy,
but this guy

is everything wrong
with America.

♪

See, this is why
I do my research.

You fall for the wrong men--

bad men.

You let them in.

You let them hurt you.

Too far away to know for sure,

but my guess is,
if he came anywhere close

to making you come,
you'd have made

a Broadway show out of it.

But you didn't...

'cause he didn't.

- [sighs]

"Desperate Characters"?

- Yeah, I just got it.

You can borrow it
when I'm done.

It's supposed to be her best.

- Johno's consultant
we brought in,

she's been all over me
about this kind of thing.

Saged the crap
out of the office.

The book title has the word
"desperate" in it.

You don't wanna
think of yourself

as a desperate
character, Beck.

'Cause you're
the opposite, babe.

You're the smartest
girl I know.

Honestly, you blow me away.

[dramatic electronic music]

[cell phone buzzing]

Oh, shit.
Gotta roll.

Johno's blowing up my phone.

Hey, you should
come by the office,

test out some new flavors.

We're doing cumin.

I know how much
you like Indian food.

- Sure.
Sounds good.

- Looks good on you,
by the way.

♪

The extra weight.

♪

Yeah, hey,
I'm on my way, bro.

You guys ordering pizzas?

Yeah, don't dick me over
like last time.

Gluten-free crust.

Not from that vegan place.

Vegan cheese tastes
like asshole.

[door closes]

♪

[door opens]

I'm talking French
gourmet shit.

[door closes]

No, Johno,
Johno, listen to me.

They can't do half gluten-free
'cause of the dough.

They have to use
a spelt dough.

♪

- [sighs]

[Rob Simonsen's "Night Drive"]

♪

- ♪ Ah, ah, ooh

♪ Ooh

- So you didn't finish.

♪

- ♪ Ooh

- ♪ Ah, ah

♪ Ah, ah
- ♪ Oh, oh

- [moans softly]

- ♪ Ah, ah
- ♪ Oh, oh

- [gasps]

- ♪ Ah, ah

- ♪ Oh, oh

- ♪ Ah, ah
- ♪ Oh, oh

- ♪ Ah, ah
- ♪ Oh, oh

- ♪ Ah, ah
- ♪ Oh, oh

- ♪ Ah, ah

- Just like that.
[moans]

- ♪ Ah, ah

[door opens]

- [clears throat]
Here.

- Oh, thank you.

You're so kind.

I don't suppose you can help me
get a cab, can you?

- Of course.

- Thanks.
- Yeah.

[dramatic music]

♪

- [moaning]

- Wow, don't tell me
you're finished already.

- Almost.

It's so good.

Sometimes the dialogue's
weird, though,

like when they're
killing each other

and still all nice about it.

- Well, it was
the 19th century.

People still had manners.

- I was hoping we could
go get another one.

- Ooh, I mean,
it's pretty late, Pac.

I don't know.

- [moaning] Oh, yeah.
Oh, I want you to come.

- Ugh, something's
in the air tonight, Beck,

'cause everyone but me
is getting action.

Even the lovebirds made up.

Yeah.
Yeah, why not?

♪

- Did you know Dumas
was a black dude?

I Googled him.

His grandmother was a slave,

and his dad was
a brigadier general.

He killed, like,
half a battalion.

You probably knew that
since you work at a bookstore.

- I didn't.

- How'd you get
to work here, anyway?

- Mr. Mooney gave me a job

when I was just
a little older than you.

He sort of took me in.

- He seems nice.

- He was a dick.
But he loved books.

And he taught me
to love them too.

- I never see him
around here.

Is he dead?

- No, he's just old.

I'm sorry, Pac.

I had one back here for you,

but Ethan must have sold it.

- Sold what?

- Your next read.

Come on, I'll show you
where we keep the good stuff.

♪

- Freaky.

♪

- It's the cage.

It's where we keep early
editions and collectibles.

- It's cold.

- 65 degrees for the books.

- If the zombies come,
this is where I'm hiding.

- Why don't you set
that milk shake down?

♪

[door whooshes]

♪

- Careful, Joseph.

When it comes
to the value of a book,

it's all about condition.

I'll show you.

- It's always 65 degrees,
humidity 40%.

Too moist,
the pages can mildew.

- Too dry, they get brittle.

Always keep books upright
so the spines don't become

rolled or warped
or what we call cocked.

- And we never want
to fold or crease the pages.

And we dust the covers
with a chemical-free duster.

- Always towards the spine.

- Under no circumstances
is there any sunlight

in this room.

- Sunlight can ruin a book
as fast as fire.

- Faster.

- It's a lot of stuff
to remember

just to take care
of some old books.

- The most valuable
things in life

are usually
the most helpless.

So they need people like us
to protect them.

You know?

- "Don Quicks-oat"?

- "Quixote."

It's about a guy
who believes in chivalry,

so he decides to be
an old-school knight.

- What's chivalry?

- It's treating people
with respect,

especially women--

like men should.

It's good.
It's one of my favorites.

- I probably shouldn't
take this home.

- It's not a first edition.
It's just an old one.

Besides, I trust you.

♪

- Where you been, Paco?

- We just grabbed
some milk shakes.

- You just walk off
with strangers?

- Joe's not a stranger.

- Yes, he is.
Inside, now.

Okay? All right.

♪

Keep away from
my girlfriend's kid.

- Look, I'm sorry.

But he was out here and he
could hear everything in there.

- Don't you tell me
how to parent.

Look, this whole nice-guy act,

this might work
on other people.

I'm a parole officer 15 years,
and I can see what you are.

- Well, you're an alcoholic
shitbag who beats women,

so, please,
enlighten me.

♪

- You're a freak.

So stay away from Paco,
because if you don't,

I'm gonna grab a steak knife

and I'm gonna cut
those freak eyes out.

♪

- There are scary people
in the world, Beck.

That's why it's important
to be safe.

♪

[door closes]

And why I have to do

what I'm about to do.

- Fun fact:
did you know the law

requires gas leaks
to be investigated?

I've been learning a lot
since I met you.

Hey, Beck, you left
the door open again.

I thought we said we weren't
gonna do that anymore.

I was careful to call
the gas company

on a day when you had
a full schedule.

Wouldn't want to scare you.

Hey, is Beck here?

- Nope, super let me in.

Someone reported a leak.

- Right, yeah,
she mentioned that.

Is everything okay?

- Yeah, all clear.

Tell your girlfriend
there's no leak.

I'm done, so...

- Okay, thanks.
Well, I can just lock up.

[door closes]

[dramatic music]

I just need to know
who you really are,

besides a broke poetry student
in a subsidized apartment

you could never afford.

Where is it, Beck?

When we live together,
your place won't be a pigsty.

I'll clean for us.

And you won't eat
all this frozen shit.

I'll cook for you every day.

I promise.

♪

I'll even do your laundry...

♪

And take care
of your favorite books.

♪

I'll make our bed
every morning.

Oh, there it is.

No matter how hard
you fight me,

I will always make sure you
password protect your devices.

♪

- "One day, you won't
need love anymore.

"One day, you won't
walk through the world

"as though it was your job
to hold everything up.

The sun, the sky,
the hard part of the night."

It's good.

It's quite good.

But, Beck, where's the rest?

You owe me 20 more pages.

- I've been honestly working
every day and grading papers.

- If the schedule
is too rigorous,

drop back to part-time.

- But then I won't
qualify to TA.

I-I need the cash, the housing.
I'd lose my place.

- I'm sure you'll
figure it out.

You're smart,
or you wouldn't be here.

- Please, Professor Leahy--
- Paul.

- Paul.

I'll get you the pages
by the end of the week.

I-I can't go
to part-time.

Okay?

- I'm rooting for you.

You just need to keep up.

Happy to discuss further,

after class some evening.

If we're gonna seriously
discuss poetry,

it should be over a drink.

There's a little
gastropub I love.

- I would love that, Paul.

Just, uh, how would your wife
feel about you--

- About me helping out
an aspiring writer?

She's--she's used
to my generosity.

- [laughs]

- So Thursday night, then?

♪

- Thursday night it is.

- Excellent.

And don't worry about
the next few days.

Just go home
and get caught up.

♪

- Need to see you tonight.

♪

- Well, if I can, babe.

Working late.

PS, I can still smell you
on my fingers.

- I learned
two definitive things

by scouring your computer.

First, there are no
recent pictures of your dad

because he's dead.

He OD'd, and you were
the one that found him.

You've started a few poems
about that day,

but you never finish them.

I'm so sorry, Beck.

But none of this matters
because of my second

and greatest discovery.

11:06 a.m., an hour after our encounter at the bookstore,

amidst a group text
on the merits

of, uh, vaginal detoxing,
you wrote...

- Wow. Just met a human male
who actually reads.

Alert the media.

What if it's finally
time for me

to date someone
good for me?

- Thank you
for letting me know

I wasn't crazy after all.

[door opens]
No!

- Yes.

I remember what you said

when you sent money last.

Yes, I'm grateful.

♪

[laughs]
I'm working constantly.

There's no place cheaper
to live.

I did.

He basically offered
to sleep with me.

No, I can't report him.
That's not how it works.

- I'm not worried.

I've seen enough
romantic comedies to know

guys like me are always
getting in jams like this.

- Not the school,
the world.

That's not how the world works.

♪

I know how much
you helped me.

It's just,
it's hard here, Mom.

♪

[sighs]

Okay.
I'll figure it out.

All right,
love you too.

Bye, Mom.

[crying]

- It's okay, Beck.

- [crying]

[cell phone rings]

[groans]

- Hi, Becks!
- Hey, bitch, where you at?

Come play!

- Oh, I can't.
I just had the worst day.

- Aww, Beckalicious,
whatever it is,

there's nothing
that we can't fix, okay?

- Yes, us and copious
amounts of alcohol.

- Oh, my God.
There's a sale.

- [laughs]

[groans]

You guys love me?

- Of course!
- Why would you even say that?

- Okay, then.
Meet me in Greenpoint.

- Look, why don't
you come here, okay?

Come here.
- It's actually really fun

where we are.
I promise.

- Yeah.

- There's something
I need to do for myself.

I'll text you on my way.

- See you soon.
- Bye.

[cell phone beeps]

♪

- I guess we're going
to Greenpoint, Beck.

- ♪ So tired of feeling
this way ♪

♪ Feeling like I can't go on

- I never go to Greenpoint.

But the things you do
for love, right?

- Hi, um, okay,
so we're gonna get

a few more drinks.

Hold on one second.

Guys?

- What is she thinking?
Open mics are for

models/
singer-songwriters/vegans.

I mean, these people don't
wanna hear some wannabe

read a poem about the bleakness
of life or whatever.

- Your friends are disloyal.

And that Peach is the worst.

[laughter]

- Another round
of picklebacks.

- Beckish, do we think
now is the night?

- Positive.

All my life lately
has been about surviving.

I need to remind myself why
I came here in the first place.

- Yes!
- Yeah.

- You go.
- Who do you keep texting?

- I invited Benji.
- Beck.

- What?
He likes poetry.

- For sure.
- And he texted he was coming?

- He texted a row
of smile emojis, like,

45 minutes ago.

- Some guys are assholes,

and you just have
to realize that.

- I get it, Peach.

- No, you're the one who
told me to keep reminding you

he's a bastard.

- Up next, we have
Guinevere Beck.

- Whoo!

- All right.
- All right.

- To vulnerability and shit.

- Yeah.

Cheers.
- Okay.

- Okay.
- Okay.

- Kill it, Beck.

- Hey, everyone, um,
I'm Beck,

and I'm--not to sound like,
you know, whatever,

but just--
I'm a--I'm a poet.

- Yeah, you are!

Whoo!

- Yeah, you are!

- One day, you won't
need love anymore.

One day, you won't
walk through the world

as though it was your job
to hold everything up.

The sun,
the hard part of the night,

the secret time when you wake
to the sound of beating,

rise to answer the door,
but he's not there

because that sound
is coming from inside you.

And you cannot answer it
no matter how far in you go.

- Wrap it up!

[dramatic music]

- Whoo!

- You loved him the way

fragile kids
love gorgeous bullies.

You wrote songs about him--
uh, I mean...

[laughs]
You wrote poems about him.

You still write poems
about him.

You're writing one right now.

- Why are you so sad?

Just so sad.

Just something happier
for a change might be nice.

I think everyone agrees.

Can we get the singer back?

She was--

- Sorry, I, uh--

I just, um--I lost my place.

It'll just take a second
to find where I was.

- I can't stand seeing this.

I'm sorry.
I-I just can't.

It's obvious what you are.

You're blind with love.

And what you love--
writing,

this city,
your friends,

most of all, men like Benji--

what all those
have in common is,

they will never love you back,

while you give everything.

♪

It's crazy, the lengths we go.

We're a lot alike, Beck.

Last of the true romantics.

♪

- ♪ Engine number nine

♪ On the New York Transit line

♪ If my train...

- I was considering this
with my new friend,

Mr. Batshit Homeless Guy,

when the second luckiest thing
this week happened.

♪

Could it really be?

It feels like I'm dreaming.

- ♪ Pick it up

- I'm not.
- ♪ Pick it up

- Beck, you're too drunk
to be alone.

What if some sicko
had followed you down here?

And you're too wasted
to be standing so close

to the tracks.
Beck!

Beck, stop texting
that arrogant club soda

no-show dickhead.

- ♪ New York line

♪ If my train
jump off the track ♪

- You want Benji.

- ♪ Pick it up, pick it up,
pick it up ♪

- You need Benji.

You hold that phone
like it is Benji

'cause it's your only means
to stay connected.

Forget Benji.

[cell phone buzzes]

And to hell with that phone!

- [grunts]
- Pick it up. Pick it up.

Pick it up. Pick it up.
- [coughing]

- ♪ Engine, engine number nine

- [gasping]

- ♪ On the New York
Transit line ♪

- Hey, hey, hey!

You okay?

Are you all right?
Can you stand up?

Just stay still.

Half that shit down there
can electrocute you, all right?

So just give me your hand.

- Pick it up. Pick it up.
Pick it up. Pick it up.

Pick it up. Pick it up!

- Sir, please shut up!

- Pick it up!
- Give me your hand.

- The train's coming.

- Pick it up. Pick it up.
Pick it up. Pick it up.

Pick it up. Pick it up.
Pick it up. Pick it up.

[train clacking]

- Your hand, now!

- Pick it up!

- [grunts]
- Pick it up!

[train whistle blows]

[dramatic music]

♪

- [vomits]

- [groans]

- Oh, my God.
Oh, my God.

- Whoo!
- I am so sorry.

- No, it's fine.
It's fine.

I, uh--I hated--
I hated this jacket.

- I really am sorry.

- It's okay.

- Do you mind?

[sighs]

- Sure, um...

You know what? Let's get you
in a cab, all right?

- I'm not always like this.

- I figured you had
some kinda night.

- Some kinda...

Hey, I don't wanna sound
like a stalker, but...

I think I know you.

Paula Fox?

- Oh, right, right!

Of course.

I remember.
I'm sorry.

- This is what I look like
when I'm sober

and have my hair up.

- Yeah, no,
I remember.

- It's okay.
I have a pretty bland face.

- No, you don't.

Yeah, uh,
"Desperate Characters."

I remember.

- Yeah.

- Where you headed?

- Village.

Are you anywhere close?

Ride with me.

It's the least I can do.

[dramatic music]

- Okay.

♪

- Did you move here
to be something?

I did,
but it's not working out,

and I'm just running around
18 hours a day.

Why?

♪

Oh, God, never mind.
Sorry.

- No, please.

I feel the same way
sometimes.

This guy I know,
he owns the bookstore.

He once told me
that all books

add up to one
essential truth,

which is, if your IQ is above
a certain number...

♪

Life is pretty much
unbearable.

And the number
is not even that high.

♪

- I do think I'd be happier
if I was stupider.

- [laughs]

But then the world
wouldn't know your poetry.

- How'd you know
I write poetry?

♪

- Doesn't every young writer
in New York?

I mean, I read
a lot of poetry.

♪

- Who do you like?

- Strand, Sexton, Merrill.

- You're describing
my nightstand.

- Well, if you read them
to get to sleep every night,

then you definitely
belong here.

- [chuckles]

What was your last name again?

- Goldberg.

♪

- Where did you come from,
Joe Goldberg?

- I grew up here.

♪

I left for a little while,

chasing a girl.

- Mm, but you came back?

- Yeah, I missed it.

And I'm not a good chaser.

- Hmm, me neither.

♪

Oh.

Oh, this is, uh...
this is me.

- Mm, it's not bad.

- Thank you for sobering me up.

And for saving my life.

- No, I didn't--
I didn't save your life.

- Yeah, you did.

♪

[knocking]

Oh, God.

- Of course.

Benji.
- Hi.

Um, this is Joe.

He literally
saved my life tonight.

I-I fell on the tracks.

It was crazy.

- Babe, I told you,
people are basically good.

It's a great job, bro.

- Bro?
You waste of hair.

- Okay, Beck,
it's freezing out here.

- Wait, uh, maybe I can
get your info.

- Yeah, um...

Shit, my phone.

I must have dropped it
in the subway.

- Oh.

Oh, okay, well, um,
just maybe give me your number

for when you get a replacement?

- I'm basically
enslaved to email.

- I get it. Smart.

I'm practically a stranger.
Can't be too careful.

Okay.

- It's
beckinreallife@gmail.com.

- All right.

♪

Beck in real life.

- Thank you.

♪

- So here's what I learned
this week.

- I'm sorry I didn't make it.
You know.

- You are special.
You're talented.

You're passionate.

You're smart...

♪

Except in the ways
you're really not,

like not locking your phone

and falling for men
like Benji.

You know better,
but you can't stop because...

well, because everyone
needs someone.

What you really need
is someone to save you.

I can help, Beck.

Let me help you.

- Joe.

[dramatic music]

- Pac, hey.

What's going on?
What are you doing out here?

- It's Ron.

He came home drunk.

He started yelling,

saying I thought I was smart,

reading my books and looking
at him like he's dumb.

- What--what happened?

Did he hurt you?

- No, he didn't touch me.

♪

I tried to stop him.

I'm sorry.

- Paco, Paco,
it's okay.

Really, it's okay.

You know what?
Come with me.

We can fix this together,
all right?

♪

So, you know, the first step
to fixing something

is to know no matter
how destroyed it seems,

it can always be saved.

Books are no exception.

You got it?

- Got it.

- So what we have here
is a line press.

Basically just a huge clamp.

Polyvinyl acetate glue means
no acid to burn the pages.

Got your needle, thread,
and finally--

right out of "Bugs Bunny"--

a trusty mallet.

[dark music]

You see this?

♪

[book rips]

We don't need this.

♪

- Johno, listen to this!

"Dear Benji,
heard about your soda.

"I'm interested
in including you

"on my fall list
of must-tries.

"Would love to discuss,
perhaps even try some.

Jeff Pevensey."

- That's the dude
you're always retweeting?

- It's the culture guy
from "New York" magazine.

♪

- Hit him back, bro.

- No shit.

Back off while I think.

Jeff, comma,

so nice to hear from you, bud,
period.

Yeah, our sodas are legit,
period.

I would love to meet up

to have you try the goods,
period.

Let's set something up.

♪

- Scrape carefully
along the spine.

Of course,
you gotta watch your fingers.

♪

[cell phone buzzes]

♪

- "Sounds great.
I can call between meetings

to see if you're available."

- This is gonna take us
next level.

What time you think
we'll meet?

♪

- No offense.
We discussed this.

It's best if the product
has one clear face

at the beginning.

That's just more me.

♪

- Okay, the spine is sewn.

So take this.

Pull it as tight
as you can that way.

♪

Yeah, that's it.

♪

- Jeff!

- The glue is set.
We've applied the binder.

Now...

♪

You gotta be precise

and use exactly
the force needed.

♪

[tapping]

[pounding]

Hey!

♪

- Nice to meet you, man.

- Nice to meet you too.

Have you--
have you been here before?

It's, uh--not a lot of people
know about it yet.

It's an incredible after hours.
Very exclusive.

- Yeah, I've been here
a couple of times.

- Yeah?
- Mm.

- Huh.
Well, good.

So you'll feel
right at home, then.

♪

Please, after you.

- All right.
[chuckles]

♪

- It's just down to the left.

♪

- Hey, man,
I'm thinking maybe--

[thwack]

[bottles shatter]

♪

[soft music]

♪

- It's 2:00 p.m.
when the door chimes,

and I'm ready.

- [speaking indistinctly]

- You told your girlfriends
you'd come by.

I know this because
I have your phone.

- I'll be in back.
- Okay.

- Hey.

Remember me?

Almost dying
on the train tracks?

- Uh, it rings a bell.

Hang on. Hang on.
- [laughs]

Well, I wanted
to say thank you.

- No, you already did that.

- Well, uh, thanks again.
[laughs]

And I'm sorry for, uh,
running off the other night.

- You had a guest.

- Hardly.

So I got you a present.

- No, no, no, please.

You don't have
to get me anything.

- Shut up and just look at it.

[dramatic music]

- "Engine, engine number nine
on the New York Transit line.

"If your girl
falls on the track,

pick her up, pick her up,
pick her up."

We already have in jokes.

- So...

anyway, that, and I'd better--

- Maybe if you're not too busy,

we could get a drink sometime?

- Sure.

Oh, but I still
can't find my phone.

- I know.
Email.

- That's right.

♪

See you, Joe.

- See you soon, Beck.

♪

- Well played, sir.

Well played.

- I'm not always right.

I'm human.
I make mistakes.

You'll see.

I have to check
on a shipment downstairs.

Can you--um,
can you watch the register?

- Yeah.

[door opens]

- Hell, maybe I'm just
a fool in love.

But I'm right about you.

And I'm going to help you get
the life you deserve, Beck.

♪

- [groans]

[gasping]

♪

Please,
whatever you think I did,

you got the wrong guy.

- No...

I don't.

[tense music]

♪