All language subtitles for London (2005)

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Tell me when you're gonna come.

- Are you coming? You're coming?
- Yeah.

Hello.

Hey, bro, what's up?

I'm crashed out.

What are you doing?

What party?
What are you talking about?

Are you fucking kidding me?

Are you fucking kidding me?

Where?

Fuck!

Fuck!

The number you have reached has
been disconnected, if you feel you--

No fucking way!

Where's the phone? Payphone.

Straight to the back,
past the bathrooms, on the left.

Hey, Mallory.

Oh, hey, Syd, what's up?

You gonna go
to Becca's thing tonight?

Yeah, you know, I was gonna go
and say goodbye.

Why, you going?

Yeah, I think so.
Thinking about it. Yeah.

So you still talk to London?

Yeah, you know,
here and there. Why?

Oh, you know, I was just a little
surprised to hear she was moving.

Did she get a place out there?
Is she staying with somebody?

She didn't tell you where
she was staying? Come on, Mal.

I mean, she said something
about moving in with her boyfriend...

...or something, but, I mean,
that's pretty much all I know.

- Can I get you a drink?
- Yeah.

Can I have a vodka? A large one.

Naked, please.

Excuse me. One second here.

Here you go.

Thanks. Hey, look, I didn't--
I didn't mean to be rude.

It's okay.

- Hey, Syd, I gotta go cash out, so....
- Yeah.

- See you tonight.
- Yeah.

Listen, I'm gonna get a bit of sniff,
so if you want some, just let me know.

- Oh, really?
- Yeah.

How much is it?

Oh, no, don't worry. Just find me.

Don't tell London.
You know she hates that shit.

Yeah, like I'm gonna say something.

- All right, well, see you later.
- Yeah, I'll see you.

Your name wouldn't happen
to be Bateman, would it?

- Unfortunately, yes.
- Hey. Syd.

Nice to meet you.
Thank you for coming down.

I know you don't deliver this far down.
I just had a shitty day.

I have to clear my head out.

No worries, mate.

So where do you wanna do this?

We don't want to go in the bathroom.
It's horrendous in there.

I drove. You wanna use my car?

Your car? Why not?

So how is this shit? It's pretty good?

Can't say I've sampled
any of this batch...

...but considering the source,
I imagine it to be pretty clean, yeah.

So is this like a full-time gig for you?
A full-time job?

No, mate, I'm a banker.

Foreign exchange dealer.
Currency trader.

- Currency trader?
- Euros, pounds, arbitrage, yeah.

Okay, so you're not a dealer.

Mate, I ain't a fucking dealer.

Strictly a buyer.

I was uptown, you were on my way.
It's just a favor.

Gotcha. Well, whatever it is,
I really appreciate it, man.

Here we go.

So a currency trader, huh?

How's the money in that, good?

Not if you get stuck on this shit, no.

Yeah, I know.
God, what a stupid fucking drug.

I don't know what you're doing after
this, if you got plans or anything...

...but a friend is having a party two
blocks from here, if you're interested.

No, thanks, mate,
but I've had a shit day, believe me.

I just figured, you know,
you came down this whole way.

It'll probably be pretty good.

What kind of party is it, exactly?

Actually, it's a....

It's a going-away party for this girl,
for my ex-chick.

But it'll be good, you know,
free booze, free food, hot chicks.

I really shouldn't. Thanks anyway.
I appreciate the offer.

Fuck it, Syd. I'm gonna go.
Take it easy.

Why are you gonna go?
Don't go. You just got here.

You walked all the way down here.
Why leave?

Because I've had a horrendous day.

I've decided not to go because I don't
want to meet a loft full of strangers.

- You enjoy yourself.
- Come in for five minutes.

- Get a drink.
- No, man. You go, fuck it.

What do you got
that's better than this?

Girls, free booze, do a line.

I've just come out of the most
psychotic therapy session...

...I've had in fucking years.
Almost smacked some cunt for a taxi.

I really don't know
if I'm ready for this shit.

Just come in for five minutes.
You don't like it, you can leave.

One fucking drink, bro.

Mallory will be here.

One drink?

One fucking drink.

- How you doing, man?
- Evening.

- What is it, 5011?
- Yes.

Thanks, man.

- Hey, Maya.
- Hi, Syd.

- How you doing?
- Good.

- It's been a while.
- Yeah. How you doing?

I'm good.
Bateman, this is Maya. Sorry.

- Maya, Bateman.
- Nice to meet you.

How you been?
What you been up to?

In hell, man. I fucked up on the SATs,
I gotta retake them.

- That's it, you know?
- Right.

Just wanna kill myself. Yeah.

Well, you know, if you want to get out
of SAT mode, I picked up a lot of:

- You know, so....
- Are you dealing now?

Yes, I'm dealing. No, I'm not dealing.
I got more than I need, so if you're....

- All right, man, thanks.
- Just come find me.

- I might take you up on that.
- Did anybody--?

Coming.

- Hello.
- Hello.

- Hey, baby.
- How are you?

- I'm good. Hey, Syd, how are you?
- This, my darling, is for you.

Oh, you guys, shut up. Thank you.

- You know you are the best.
- Nobody's here yet.

Grab a drink.
Make yourself at home.

Hello? Syd and London.

- Don't disrespect them in public.
- In public.

Let's go upstairs.

Why? Who's upstairs?

Very bad. Catch me.

You're crazy.

What is this?

It's for you.

- For me? For me?
- For you.

Oh, my God, Syd, I love it.

Thank you.

I love you.

I love you.

Come on, "I love you too, London,"
you fucker.

You can say it.
I'm not gonna tell anybody.

- London, don't.
- What? What am I doing?

- This.
- What am I doing wrong?

Whatever this is, this obsession
to put a verbal label on everything.

- It's not about words.
- No, it is about words.

Because if we didn't have words,
we'd be living in caves...

- ...and still talking with our hands.
- Stop.

We haven't even
come close to a fight.

If we can avoid that first fight,
by theory we'll never fight.

Okay? Please.

It's been so perfect till now.
Don't do this.

It's been perfect for you. For you.

London.

Coming.

Wait a minute,
someone's at the door.

- Hello.
- Hi.

Wow, you look beautiful.

You look hot.
Nice hat, nice boots.

Thanks.

- Hey.
- Hey, Becca.

- Rebecca.
- Bateman. Friend of Syd's.

- Nice to meet you.
- Nobody's here yet, guys.

So just come on in
and make yourself at home.

Okay, so you're not gonna believe
who's just fucking shown up.

Great party, mate.

Oh, it'll be better. It'll be better.
Trust me. I promise you.

Okay, I've gotta go.

Please tell me
you did not bring Syd here.

Oh, my God, I just rode up
in the elevator with him.

- Why? He's not invited?
- He's so not invited.

He's fucking touching
my Buddha's head.

Hey, London, it's me.

Give me a call as soon
as you get this, okay? Okay, bye.

Fuck it.

Hey, Syd. Do us a favor, yeah?
Don't touch the Buddha.

Okay?

He's a fucking cocksucker.

Where did you get your hat?

It's so cute on you.

He's fucked.

To show up at someone's party.
He isn't even fucking invited.

Did they just go upstairs?

Right. Nice. Nice of them to ask.

Wait, I'm confused, did you say
you do believe in God or you don't?

"God" might not be
the appropriate word for it, actually.

It's more of an epiphany.

Epiphany?
What was your epiphany?

Well, for me, an epiphany
is when you really see the universe...

...in all it's splendor and beauty...

...and you suddenly
understand everything.

- What does that mean?
- Fucking everything.

Everything you can imagine. You don't
know what "everything" means?

I know what it means. I don't know
what you mean by "everything."

It means everything, doesn't it?
You know, everything.

- So, what's your problem?
- For someone who's seen the infinite...

...you're vague. You'd think
with someone who's had a revelation...

- ...you'd be more specific.
- It's not about specifics.

It's an energy that hits you between
the eyes and you're enlightened.

- You see everything?
- You don't see everything.

You see nothing.
But you understand everything.

And you know what
got me the most?

- Is that I understood time horizons.
- What's a time horizon?

It's like this. I understood
where I stood in relation...

...to where the Romans and the Jews
were 2000 years ago...

...and why I was here now.

Then I felt this enormous
compassion...

...for the struggle of the human race
and what it had to go through for us.

You know, for life as we know it
to come to this point.

It's truly remarkable, but at the same
time, it's utterly fucking disturbing.

I mean, we're the same people
that were living in Roman times...

...throwing boiling oil on each other
and crucifying Christians.

Not that that's entirely a bad thing.

Hey, Syd, are you in there?
It's Maya.

Oh, fuck! Fuck me.

- Fuck, fuck. Give me one second.
- What the fuck have you done?

- Sorry. Fuck.
- You clumsy bastard.

- What have you fucking done?
- Shit.

Look at that.

It's covered in fucking beer.

- Fuck.
- Oh, my God.

What are you gonna do?

- Goddamn it, Syd.
- Instant karma.

- I got it.
- That's enough to give up blasphemy.

- Get up here.
- No, we can totally save this.

What are you gonna do,
eat food off the floor?

- Fucking gross.
- Do me a favor.

- God fucking damn it.
- God, is this it?

- Yes.
- Are you kidding?

- No, it's my fucking fault too.
- Just snort it off the floor.

You don't wanna do that. I shouldn't
have put it by the fucking sink.

What are you doing?

- What's that?
- As I said, all is not lost.

- Bateman, Jesus Christ.
- Oh, my God, you fucking rock.

- Do you know this painting?
- No.

It's Van Gogh's
Wheatfield with Crows,

The most significant painting
the man's ever painted.

- Oh, well, then.
- Fuck, it's true.

That'll do for starters, won't it?

Look, this is the last painting
the man did before he killed himself.

It's his suicide note. He even put
his left ear in the fucking clouds.

There is his mutilated left ear.

Can you see it? Not everyone sees it,
of course, but there it is.

He mutilated his left ear
and put it in the fucking painting.

What does that mean?

Maya, I'm curious.
Do you believe in God?

You guys have been doing
too many drugs.

Answer the question. Yes or no?

God, that's a really long
conversation...

...but I will tell you something I read
the other day that freaked me out.

I don't remember where it was.

It was like Russia or Germany
or one of these places...

...but these scientists,
they took this pregnant rabbit...

...and they hooked up to,
like, a heart monitor and an EEG...

...which sensors your brain waves.

And, like, the second after she gives
birth, they take these babies...

...and they jump in a van
and they start shooting them...

...one by one in the back of the head
with, like, a.22 rifle.

From, like one mile away:

Five miles away:
Twenty miles away--

Don't tell me people are
killing little bunny rabbits.

What's so interesting
is that every time they'd shoot...

...one of these poor babies
in the back of the head...

...the mother's heartbeat
and brain waves would go crazy.

So I'm just saying there's,
you know, shit like that, and then--

The mother knew the babies
were getting shot--

Yes. Every fucking time. Exactly.

I mean, there's all that stuff, you know,
like those weird identical twins, right?

One of the brothers is
walking down the street...

...gets stabbed
by some serial killer,

Wait. So he gets stabbed, right?

And then 900 miles away,
at the exact same time...

...his twin brother falls down,

Weird, it's very weird, yes.

Do you want to let me finish
what I'm saying?

- Please, please, finish.
- Okay, he falls down.

Gets hospitalized
due to heart palpitations...

...at the same time
his brother was stabbed.

- Why are you shaking your head?
- You sound like London.

- It's coincidence.
- How is it a coincidence?

I've had this conversation before.
I'm not having it here.

Well, then, let's not. Then don't
ask me about God, okay, Syd?

Hey, is London here yet?

No, I don't think so.

Did you meet her boyfriend?

Yeah, a couple of times. He's nice.

Is he, like, an attractive guy?
Is he good-looking?

Are you asking me
if he's an attractive guy?

I guess.

You guess?
What do you mean, you guess?

I mean, I guess.

All right, so I'm curious. Do you think
he's more or less attractive than me?

Syd, I don't know.

Well, you do know.
You just aren't telling me.

I don't know, Syd. You guys just--
You have totally different looks.

All right, yes.
We have very different looks.

But whose do you like more?
His or mine?

This is stupid, Syd.

Okay, fine.

I guess, on some level,
I find him attractive.

That doesn't mean that I find him...

...any more or less attractive
than I find you.

Okay?

I won't lie to you.
Just because we're going out...

...doesn't mean I'm gonna,
you know...

...suddenly not be attracted
to the opposite sex.

He's a friend
who happens to be attractive.

It was one lunch.
Why are you freaking out?

You don't see me going to lunch
with a bunch of attractive people.

Okay. First of all,
it was one guy, not a bunch.

And it's really not my problem that
you don't have female friends, is it?

Because no one's stopping you
from having female friends.

I love this, by the way.

- So for the sake of conversation....
- Syd.

- Let's just pretend you and I...
- Please, can we just drop it?

...don't know each other.
Just listen to me.

Let's pretend for five minutes
you don't know me, I don't know you.

Me and what's-his-name
are in the room.

- Who do you pick?
- I do know you, Syd.

Remove that from the equation.

- You can't.
- Gun to your head. Who do you pick?

I would pick you.
I would pick you in any equation.

Are you all right in there?

Everything is fine. Thank you.

Syd, literally, this has got to be one
of the most insane conversations...

...I've ever had with you.

I don't want to fuck him. I don't.

- Fuck him?
- It was one lunch.

Who said anything
about fucking him?

- I didn't say fucking, I said attracted.
- That's what you meant.

- It's not.
- Please keep your voice down.

I meant attracted, you said fuck.

Can you just fucking
shut the fuck up?

What do you want?

I want you to answer
the fucking question.

Syd, you're a cute guy. You are.
You really, really are, but I don't know.

He has this angular, sexy,
Diesel-ad thing going on.

But I don't even know him.

- So maybe he's an asshole.
- You know what?

Fuck you, Maya. If you were my friend,
you would've lied.

Syd. Syd, you are at
her going-away party.

If you don't calm down,
you'll drive me...

...and you, and everyone else,
and her at this fucking party crazy.

Just say goodbye and let her go,
because she's gone.

She's gone, man.

Line, anyone?

No. No, thank you.
But do you have a cigarette?

I'm sorry.

Light. I'm sorry.

All right, all right, you know what?
I'm gonna go.

- Are you leaving?
- Thank you. Thank you for everything.

- Really.
- Listen, do me a favor.

Don't tell London I'm doing blow
in here. That'll really screw me.

You know, Syd, yeah,
you know, I'll try to remember that.

Maya, I'm serious. Please?

Hey, please tell me you're not doing
coke in my parents' bathroom.

- What?
- I saw you go upstairs.

- Where did you go?
- To the bathroom.

Swear to God, you're not doing coke
in my parents' house.

Oh, my God, I swear to God...

...I'm not doing coke
in your parents' house.

Okay, I'm sorry, darling.

All right.
Have a good time. I'm sorry.

How long were you two together?

Who? Me and London?
Two and a half years.

- You split when?
- Six months and a few days ago.

You're counting, Syd.
Not a good sign, mate.

Why? Why do you say that?

Joking.
I mean, what's the girl's name?

- Maya. Can I have one of those?
- Maya.

Maya.

I'd do some terrible things to her.

She's like an X-rated Barbie doll.

- How old is she?
- I don't know, like 16, 17.

Seventeen?

- Now I really wanna fuck her.
- You'd fuck a 17-year-old?

What, you wouldn't?

If it's not against the law,
what's the problem?

You can fuck a 15-year-old
in France.

Does that make them
all pedophiles?

Right situation, right country,
you'd fuck one too, believe you me.

Right, right. International waters,
deserted island, shit can happen.

But if any of my female friends
knew I fucked a 17-year-old...

- ...they'd lose it.
- What's the matter with you?

If we told women a tenth of
the things we think and do...

...do you think we'd ever get laid?

- Like when I asked a girl to piss on me.
- To piss on you?

Yes, mate, but I was on
a horrible amount of X at the time.

Did she piss on you?

Actually, no...

...she pissed in my mouth.

She pissed in your mouth?

It was not a pleasant experience,
believe me.

How the fuck does that happen?

What is the conversation that leads to
a girl having to piss in your mouth?

It was a fucking mistress.

- You paid an S & M chick?
- Many times.

"Many times."

Listen, it's an expensive hobby,
both mentally and financially.

So, what's the deal?
How does it work?

I don't know if I want
to go there, you know?

Come on, explain it. No one cares.
Did you get your shit wet? Me too.

It's my fucking Savile Row suit.
It's fucking 5 G's.

I've kept it out of the rain all day.
Look at the state of it.

Look, I don't wanna go there.
All right, Syd?

Come on. I'm not gonna tell.

- Why the fuck do you wanna know?
- How does it work?

- You just go over there?
- Look at you, you fucking dirtbag.

- You brought it up.
- You wanna go there...

...you fucking go there. Leave my
fucking demons to myself, mate.

- Where is it?
- Tribeca, you cunt.

Explain it. How does it work?
You just walk over?

Look, you phone from downstairs...

...and magically they let you in
through these enormous iron gates,

You get all excited,

You get all wrapped up,
You can't wait to get in there,

The whole thought of it just
gets amongst your fucking veins,

You're into it, you know?

All of a sudden,
they give you a form.

it's a five-page disclaimer
in fucking triplicate,

And you're like, "Hold on.
What is this? Paperwork?

I've come here
to get my dick sucked.

I didn't come here to sign forms."
It's hilarious.

You don't pay them,
you give them a fucking donation.

I mean, that is so American, isn't it?
Come on.

And then they give you a list and
a little pencil, like in the sushi bar,

You start checking off the
requirements, Whipping, spanking--

Come on, you fucking dirty
shit-cunt whore. Fucking whip me!

--nipple clamps, coprophilia,

- What's coprophilia?
- When they shit on you.

Shit in your mouth.

You can have it in the mouth
or you can have it over a glass table,

Can you imagine? They fucking
wheel out a glass table and they just...

...shit all over it,
and you're just like:

"You dirty bitch!"

Who the fuck
asks for that fucking misery?

I hope not you.

Yeah, what about me?

Anyway, you know, there's a lot--
I mean, the list is long, mate.

- Infantilism, you've got--
- What's infantilism?

They make you a baby,
give you a bottle,

Put you in diapers, nurse you,
turn you into an infant.

I mean, it's the sickest,
most twisted place you'll ever go.

I mean, they claw your balls.

They'll tie your cock up
with a shoelace...

...stick truncheons up your ass.
It's twisted. It's fucking twisted.

But I'm telling you,
the moment you come....

The moment you come,
you are so sober.

i mean, so fucking sober,

You're like, "What have i just done?
What the fuck have i just done?

i've just paid $275
for some stranger...

...some chick i don't even know,
to, like, whip me...

...and piss on my head,"

So where's the upside?
Why do you do it? I don't get it.

Well, on a physical level,
it can be rather pleasurable.

Psychologically-- This is without
getting too deep here.

--I think it has a lot to do
with pain and self-flagellation...

...both literally and metaphorically.

I mean, I don't know whether
it's the culture or what...

...but the English, in general,
are very into pain and spanking.

The English? Really?

Yeah, you're always reading
some story in the papers...

...about some judge or vicar
bent over a hooker's knee,

I didn't know the English
were so fucked up.

Mate, the English are very...

...I mean, very fucked up.

Yeah, one sec.

Sweating like a fucking rapist.

Syd.

Come and have a look at the view.

Yeah. It's Mallory,
the girl from the bar. I'll hook you up.

- Come back in.
- Who?

Mallory. The girl from the bar.

- She's hot. I'll hook you up.
- No, no, mate, no.

I'm too-- I'm wanked, mate.
I can't be fucking with girls.

So what? So am I.

I've been drinking this piss.
No, I can't, fuck it.

- I can't operate like this.
- Who cares?

- I'm fucking dizzy.
- She'll be in and out.

You help yourself to that,
I'm gonna leave.

- It's been a fucking pleasure.
- Don't leave.

Please don't fucking leave.
Go get a drink, come back.

- No, mate, no.
- Bateman, one fucking drink.

Come right back.
Work Mallory, she's hot.

Fuck you. A drink of what?
What do you want?

Anything. A bottle.
Jack, tequila, whiskey.

You're staying, though, right?

- One fucking drink.
- One fucking drink.

Fine, fine, just don't go anywhere.
You'll fucking thank me.

I haven't had a bump
in like three hours.

Bateman, this is my friend Mallory.

Mallory, this is Bateman.

Hey.

You're the guy from the bar, right?

Mallory, yeah?

Bateman.

Nice to meet you.

- Sorry.
- Excuse me.

- What a clumsy idiot.
- Sorry.

Well, how do you guys
know each other?

A friend of a friend.

What friend?

I don't know, Mallory.
What's with the 20 Questions? Fuck.

Just asking. So, what,
are you leaving or something?

I'm just gonna grab us a drink
and then...

...I'm coming back.
Do you want one?

Sure, I'll have another one.

- I'll see you in a minute.
- Good.

I'll see you in a minute, Syd.

Damn, kid.

So how do you know that guy?

He got this blow. He's not
a dealer, he just knew the guy.

- Oh, yeah?
- Yeah. Good guy, right?

- Yeah.
- Hey, you don't know if London's here.

Yeah, she got here like a minute ago.

What'd she say?
Does she know I'm here?

No. She didn't say anything.

I can't believe she's leaving tomorrow.
That's just so fucked up to me.

Well, instead of staying here all night,
why don't you go out and talk to her.

- I'm sure she'd love to talk to you.
- I doubt that.

Why wouldn't she wanna talk to you?
You guys in a fight?

A fight? Mallory, she hasn't
called me in two months.

I wasn't invited tonight.
Don't you think it's odd...

...she wouldn't tell me she's moving
across the fucking country?

- She didn't call you?
- No.

- That's fucked up.
- Didn't even leave a message.

- I know that girl better than anybody.
- When's the last time you talked?

- I don't know, two months.
- Really?

- I'm sure she was gonna call you.
- When? I just checked my messages.

- Is she gonna call me from LAX?
- Dude, I don't fucking know. Man.

Fucked up!

Hey, Syd, can I ask you
something personal?

What?

Well....

It's probably-- I don't know if it's true,
that's obviously why I'm asking...

...and since we're cool and all,
I just figured-- I'm kind of concerned.

But I-- Anyway, I kind of heard that--

- What? Something about London?
- I heard-- It's probably bullshit.

- But I heard you--
- What, Mallory? Spit it out. Fuck.

Dude, I kind of heard that
you tried to kill yourself.

- What? Who told you that? London?
- No, it wasn't London.

- Who told you that? Who?
- Dude, I don't know.

I don't even remember.

London's the only person
that knew about that.

So any way you heard it,
it's pretty fucked up.

- So, what? It's not true?
- No, it's not fucking true.

Dude, I don't get it.
What the fuck happened then?

You tell me what you heard happened,
then I'll tell you what really happened.

Just after this bump. Hold up.

All right. Okay.

I heard that, like, you guys had a fight
or something, and you broke out...

...she drove to your place,
found you unconscious...

...next to some sleeping pills, and you
had to get your stomach pumped.

Okay, now do you wanna know
what really happened?

Yeah. I mean, that's why I asked.

- You know my dog, Toker?
- Yeah.

- Yes, well, he's epileptic.
- Okay.

- So the vet prescribed phenobarbital.
- Pheno--? What the fuck is that?

They're barbiturates.
They're downers, for his fits.

Wait a minute. Your dog has epilepsy
and got prescribed--?

Let me finish. Anyway...

...it was our two-year anniversary
and she thought I'd forget.

- So--
- Syd, you always forget, Always,

Oh, fuck.

- I feel like such a bitch.
- Well, you are a bitch.

Open it.

- Open it.
- Okay.

Oh, my God.

This is so gorgeous. How did
you know I wanted this dress?

I saw you drooling all over it
last time we were at Valentino.

I love it!

Oh, it's so beautiful.

Thank you so much, baby.

There's more.

- What is that?
- It's a basketball.

What--? Oh, my God. Oh, my God.

Hi, little guy. Hi, little guy.

Oh, baby.

- I love you so much.
- I love you.

Look at him.
I can't believe you did this. I--

Thank you. Okay. Okay.

Hello?

Hey. Can I just call you back?

No, I'm just
in the middle of something.

All right, bye.

- Who was that?
- It was Mallory.

Look at his paws.

- What? What is it? What's wrong?
- I heard a guy's voice on the phone.

What? Are you fucking crazy?
That was Mallory.

You swear to God?

Yes, I swear to God.

If you don't fucking believe me,
go ahead and call her.

Syd. Are you really gonna
fucking call her?

Yeah, is Mallory there?

This is London's boyfriend.
Who the fuck is this?

London, what the fuck is this?
Who was that? Why did you lie?

- Let me just explain.
- You better fucking explain.

What? Why did you lie?
Are you cheating on me?

No, no. Listen.

I was really fucked up.
I was out with the girls.

- Fucking perfect.
- Are you gonna let me explain?

Yes, yes, you better
fucking explain, London.

Okay, the clubs were closing, we went
back to Becca's boyfriend's loft.

I fucking passed out.
I wake up the next morning...

...and the guy-- There was someone
lying in bed next to me.

Then he didn't try anything?

You're fucked up in his bed,
he didn't try anything.

I find that hard to believe.
And don't fucking lie to me.

If you fucking lie to me,
I'm walking out the fucking door.

He tried to kiss me. But there was
nothing because I pushed him away.

- It was not a big deal--
- Define "tried."

I wanna know
every single fucking detail.

Were you on or under the covers?
Was his hand on your tit?

No, Syd. He tries to kiss me
and I pushed him away.

- You pushed him away?
- Yes. I walked outside.

Mallory called me a cab,
and I went home.

If you went home,
why is he calling you?

- How does he have your number?
- I don't know.

Maybe Becca's boyfriend
gave him the number.

But I definitely didn't give it to him.

Nothing happened. I swear to God.
Don't you fucking believe me? Please.

I don't know what to believe.

You swore that was
Mallory on the phone...

...and it wasn't.
So, what the fuck?

We've dated for two years. I believed
everything you said until now.

Now I don't know
what the fuck to believe.

It's like your words are meaningless.

I just don't trust you anymore,
London.

I made a mistake.
I made a fucking huge mistake.

- I'm sorry.
- If it was one fucking mistake...

...why did you say
you were gonna call back?

Why would you tell a guy
who you don't know...

...whose number you don't have,
you're gonna call him back?

What the fuck is that?

So I took a couple
of Toker's phenobarbital.

Wait, you took
your dog's medication?

Phenobarbital is phenobarbital.
It doesn't matter if it was for my dog.

People have been taking it
recreationally for years.

Smoke that.

So wait a minute,
what does it do to you?

They make you feel good.
They're like downers.

- Okay.
- Anyway...

...I was pretty drunk
and I took like five or six of them.

- Five or six doggy downers?
- Toker's 50 pounds, he takes two.

- I'm 170, five or six seems pretty good.
- Shit.

The problem is that if you're drunk,
you can fall into a coma...

- ...if you're not careful.
- You went into a coma?

- What's wrong with you?
- No, I didn't go into a fucking coma.

London came back
to apologize or whatever.

Syd? Syd!

Syd! Somebody, please, help!

It's so fucked up. The fact she's telling
people that makes me so furious.

I would never do that to anyone.
It's just fucking rude.

- They never pumped your stomach?
- No, I went to the hospital.

I took a few coherency tests.
That's it. That's all.

Do you see how reality gets twisted
when little fucking girls gossip?

Yeah. Yeah, I mean, I guess.

- What? Do you not believe me?
- No, of course I believe you, Syd.

That's why I asked. I was concerned.

Makes me so livid
that she's out there...

...telling people this warped version
of what happened.

You know what? Just please don't
go out there telling her I told you this.

That's the last thing you need.

The last thing I'm gonna do
is mention your name.

Well, honestly, if I were you, I wouldn't
even bring the shit up, okay?

It's her last night here.
Focus on something positive.

She don't wanna hear that shit.

Fuck.

What? What's wrong?

I don't know, I don't know.

Because I start sweating
and my heart starts pounding...

...and I feel like my head's spinning
and the world's crashing.

And I get pulled down,
further into, like, the darkest...

...meanest places of my brain,
and I start suffocating.

And you feel like you're dying.

What? What? Say something.

- What would you like me to say?
- Anything. Something. I don't care.

I can't be your crutch, Syd.

Oh, you are such a miserable
fucking human being.

Miserable in what way?

The way that you're sitting there,
taking my fucking money...

...and I'm dying. Nothing you do
helps me. The Prozac doesn't help.

The lithium doesn't help. The Zoloft
doesn't help. Nothing you do helps.

You're kind of a fucking asshole.

I just wanna fucking
turn the pain off, you know?

Just give me something that
the pain can go away with, you know?

Can you do that? Don?

I think you're doing great.

When that anxiety hits,
it's terrifying...

...because you're like,
"Maybe I'm really going crazy.

Maybe I've finally
fucked with my head enough...

...that I just detached from reality."

- You have these horrible revelations.
- Like what?

I started freaking out about death.
I became obsessed.

I couldn't conceptualize not
being here. Just not being here.

One day, Mallory, you and I
are gonna be dead. Buried. Gone.

You think about religion. People are
just swallowing these concepts.

Like God and heaven,
just to suppress our deepest fears...

...that we don't know why we're here.
It makes no sense.

It totally makes sense, okay?

At the same time it allows people
to go on living their everyday lives...

...without constantly obsessing over
these things. These realities.

Life, death, heaven, hell.
Existence, why we're here.

You know, who knows,
it's possible that a god does exist.

Energy, force, spirit, whatever
you wanna call it. I believe that.

Fair enough.
So, what happens when you die?

I don't know. You fucking die. Why
does there have to be an answer?

Why can't there just be mysteries?
I don't know. Your body dies.

Your actual physical being dies,
but your spirit, I do believe, lives on.

It lives on in the world. Man, it's this
continuing thing of existence.

It doesn't have to have
a perfect answer why.

I buy that a little bit more
than an invisible guy...

...taking checks and balances
on 6 million people.

That sounds like Santa Claus to me.

It's like a fairy tale for adults
who can't handle death.

Yeah, because if you think about it...

...there was a time that we didn't know
that the world was round...

...or that the atom existed
or whatever, right...

...because we didn't have
the technology to observe it.

And then... one day we do, right?

So, I mean, it's totally
conceivably possible...

...that in our lifetime, we will have
the technology to observe God...

...or whatever it is that created us
and the planets...

...and the universe
and everything else. Right?

It's important to at least have faith
in the possibility...

...of a higher being
or something, or whatever...

...because otherwise, you're just--

You're gonna drive yourself
completely fucking insane.

Right, but that really is
the operative word isn't it?

What do you mean? What word?

"Faith." Because without faith,
what do you have? You have nothing.

You got a few stories written 100
years ago, thousands of years ago...

...by people who are more
clueless than we are.

The same people who were crucifying
people who said the world was round.

So, you know. I just need more proof.
I need logic to support this religion.

Okay, if you want proof,
I will give you proof.

There was a study that was done
in Japan with physicists, okay?

They took two vats of rice...

...they put one in one room,
and one in another room.

They put a time-lapse camera on it
so they could observe it for a month.

They let all these people
come into one room...

...and they would say, "i love you,
rice, You are the best rice,

You are the most beautiful,
most gorgeous, sexy rice there is."

And in the other room,
they say, "I fucking hate you, rice.

i hate you, You're the worst rice,
Fuck you, rice, you're the worst rice,"

After a month, the rice that they
said "I love you" to still edible.

The other rice looks like
fucking black sludge.

I saw the pictures. I saw, you know,
the time-lapse video.

It's a study. It's real.
I saw it with my own eyes.

That's your proof right there. I mean,
it's energy. We're affecting something.

- God is energy.
- London, you're talking about rice.

Rice. It has nothing to do with religion.
Nothing to do with God.

- I gave you proof.
- I'm sorry, I don't find proof in that.

You know what your problem is?
You're so undyingly convinced...

...that everything your parents
and teachers taught you...

...you hold it as
this indisputable, almighty truth.

Syd, can we please just drop it?
Can we just fucking drop it?

You wanna drop it because
you know I'm right. Admit that...

- ...we'll talk about whatever you want.
- Shut up.

- Shut the fuck up.
- Just admit it.

You're scared to question authority
because what if they're wrong?

What if all your parents
and all your elders...

...were as scared of death as you,
and brainwashed just like you?

You're just blind to see it.

Okay, so I'm brainwashed...

...because I happen to think
that believing in something...

...other than meaninglessness
and nonexistence is a positive thing?

- Okay. That's really smart, Syd.
- I'm glad you agree with me.

I was being facetious, you dipshit.

Why are you calling me a dipshit?

Why are you calling me a dipshit?

Because...

...you always have to be right.
Why do you always have to be right?

And your ego.
Your ego, it's just huge.

- It's just out of fucking control.
- There's no need to freak out.

Syd, because you don't know
when to stop.

You keep going
and going and going...

...until people just wanna
smash your face in.

Okay, okay.
Maybe God doesn't exist.

I guess me and the billions upon
billions and billions of other people...

...who actually pray to something
are completely deluded...

...and you are right.
You are all-knowing.

You're God, Syd. Isn't that what
you wanna fucking hear anyway?

- That everyone else is wrong and--?
- Doesn't everybody?

And I'm deluded?
And I am fucking deluded?

You are-- You're sick.
You're sick, Syd.

You need fucking mental help.

God, you make everybody crazy.
You're making me fucking crazy.

You just-- You blanket people with
your pseudo-intellectual bullshit...

...and then they can't fucking breathe.
You just suffocate people.

You don't talk to people.
You talk at them.

At least I talk about real shit.
We've been going out for two years.

What's the most intelligent
conversation we've had?

How many grams of fat
are in a slice of vegetarian pizza?

- Fuck you! You're so annoying.
- No, fuck you, London!

You are more annoying than me.

You get away with it
because no one listens.

They stare at your tits,
thinking of ways to fuck you.

I can't fucking believe that I ever fell
in love with a fucking asshole like you!

- You're such a fucking asshole!
- Stop!

- I fucking hate you!
- London. Take it easy.

Stop, stop, stop.

Stop. Stop.

Stop.

Baby. Come on, now.

I'm not gonna get her back, am I?

I don't know.

Why don't you go talk to her.

Are you leaving?

I'm getting really claustrophobic.
I need to get some air.

- I'm not freaking you out, am I?
- No, I'm so high right now.

I need a drink.

- Here, let me give you some of this.
- Can you bring that purse over?

- Yeah, of course.
- Thanks.

Here.

- Oh, thanks, man.
- Here, this is for you.

- That's way too much.
- No, please, take it.

- You sure?
- Yeah.

Thanks, man. That's really sweet.

So you--? Do you wanna
come out there or what?

Yeah, I'll be out there in a minute.
I'm gonna...

- ...just hang here for a minute or two.
- All right.

See you out there, okay?

You gotta come out.

Hello, girls. What's your name?

We're at a party, come on.
What are you reading a book for?

Fancy a smoke in the little room?

We're reading, actually,
about robopathology.

Complicated little thing, aren't you?

I was gonna leave,
then I had to make a beeline to you.

Like I feel I know you
or something like that.

On a one-to-ten scale...

...you're a four. In dim light.

One lantern so I wouldn't have to
see your heinous, disfigured face.

You are absolutely--
You're beautiful.

I have to go.
That's my chopper. But before I do--

- It's picking you up?
- Yeah.

I invented this move:

She likes me. She's laughing.

- How old are you?
- Eighteen.

Eighteen.

Let me just get another drink now.

Stop. I'm not hitting on you.

- I like your shoes.
- You do?

- Excuse me. Hey, girl, I'm out of here.
- Already?

- I'm gonna miss you.
- I'm gonna miss you too.

- Thank you so much for coming.
- You're welcome.

- Don't get shallow on me.
- I promise. Are you kidding me?

- I'm sorry. I'll see you later.
- Nice to meet you.

Call us when you get home.
Let us know you're okay.

All right, all right, all right, come on.

Come on, Syd.

You gotta mellow out.
You gotta mellow out.

You need a beer.
You need a bottle.

Okay.

Stop doing blow.
You gotta stop doing coke.

Don't grind your teeth. If she sees
you grind your teeth, you're fucked.

Come on, Syd.
Mellow out, mellow out.

Be a man. Be a man.

There. Get a drink.
Go out there, get a drink.

What's the worst that can happen?
What's the worst that can happen?

I can see London. So what?

Fuck. Fuck.

Okay. You fuck up tonight, it's over.

Okay.

Come on.

You know I do.

Well, if you do, if you love me,
why don't you just say it?

Why can't you just fucking say it?
Why is it so impossible for you?

It's-- It's three words.

It's-- L-O-V-E Y--
It's eight fucking letters.

You can't say eight fucking letters?

It's not a lot of letters.

Say it.

Tell me you were not doing
cocaine in my parents' bathroom.

- What are you talking about?
- Don't "what are you talking about" me.

- I saw you go upstairs.
- Yeah, I went to the fucking bathroom.

- Really?
- Yeah, I had to pee.

Well, swear to God
you're not doing cocaine.

Who the fuck is Bateman?

That's his friend or some shit.
I don't know.

He's hot.

I think I want to have
hot coke sex with him.

You fucking did cocaine!
Don't fuck with me. Are you?

Yeah, man, he's hot.
I like guys with accents.

Oh, my God.

I gotta go.

- So I met your girl, mate.
- What do you mean, you met her?

Mallory, she introduced us.

I didn't say I knew you.
I didn't wanna blow your cover.

But, my God,
she is painfully gorgeous.

Yeah, no shit.

I'd go out there
and speak to her immediately.

I can't go out there like this.
I'm not thinking right.

If she knows I'm on blow,
she won't even talk to me.

Fuck! How do I look?
Do I look like I'm on blow?

- No, you're fine.
- No, look at me. Look at my eyes.

A bit, yeah.

Come on. Drink some more booze.
You'll be fine.

What was I thinking,
getting these tonight? So stupid, Syd.

I just wanted to clear my head out.
Try and think a little bit clearer.

Now I'm so fucking spun
I can't even think straight.

- Fuck.
- Happens, mate.

I've never been particularly social
on this shit, anyway.

It's a lonely, lonely drug.

This is fucking crazy.

I should bail. I can't do this.

- Should I bail?
- You could.

- I think you'd regret it.
- Why? Why do you say that?

Personally, I'd rather
regret something I'd done...

...than something
I was too afraid to do.

No shit.

But I haven't talked to this girl
in two fucking months.

Everybody here hates me.
These are all her friends.

If I go out there, it is gonna get
fucking ugly. Fucking ugly.

You'd think they'd have something to
take the edge off a chick leaving you.

That'd be nice.
Look, they have this theory.

Maybe it'll help. I don't know.

Fuck knows where it comes from.
The broad strokes of it are...

...that it takes a third of the time...

...to recover from a relationship
as the relationship was long.

So, for example,
if the relationship lasted a year...

...you'll be good in four months.

- Two years, you'll be clean in eight.
- It's not a third, it's a half.

- Mate, it's a third. Trust me.
- No, mate, it's a half.

Maybe in England it's a third.
In America it's a half.

I dated her for two years. It's been
six months and it's getting worse.

Six months? Come on.
What are you complaining about?

You've got two months to go.

Good behavior, maybe a month.

Bro, I appreciate the pep talk...

...but if you haven't noticed,
I'm trying to get this girl back.

Look, I don't know if first love
applies to that theory, anyway.

It's been years, I still have these
horribly lucid dreams about Helen.

It's almost like your brain is trying
to compensate for the absence.

You know, you think you're
still married, you're still in love...

...life's just beautiful.

All of a sudden, you wake up, look
over and she's been gone for years.

- Fucking horrendous.
- Yeah, no shit.

So you were married before?

How long ago?

Divorced three years ago.

- Who divorced who?
- It's not that simple.

Well, what happened?
Why did you guys split?

- Long story, mate.
- Give me the abridged version.

"The abridged version."
Look, I don't know.

The relationship just didn't work
on so many levels.

We both had one foot out the door
for two years...

...of our two-and-a-half-year
marriage.

You know, but it's weird. You know,
when they tell you they're leaving...

...it's like you don't even
feel the hollowness.

It's an emptiness
within an emptiness...

...and you're left with
slightly less than nothing.

The person you were when you met
doesn't exist anymore. You're gone.

- So she left you?
- Syd, it's very fucking complicated.

What happened?
Did you cheat on her?

- No, no. It's irrelevant.
- Irrelevant? How is it irrelevant?

Besides money, infidelity's the most
relevant reason why people split up.

Yeah, yeah. True, true.

Come on, man.
I thought we were talking.

Let's talk, let's talk.
Why did your wife leave you?

Syd, it's not a pleasant scene
for me, please.

Oh, my scene's pleasant?

Mate, I've been 21 before.
I know your pain.

But where you're pushing me now
is not a place you wanna go.

Wait. Are you trying to say
that since you're older than me...

- ...your pain is somehow more?
- That's the case.

Listen, first of all...

...you don't have the slightest clue
what pain I've been through.

Just since you're
a couple decades older...

...doesn't mean that your pain is more
than mine. It doesn't.

Secondly, don't make
blind comparisons...

...when you have no fucking clue
what you're comparing.

You think having your heart broken
is pain? You think losing God is pain?

Mate, I went through that trivial shit
when I was 20.

I'm 40 now, mate.

Where you're trying to push me now
is not a place you wanna go.

So why don't you do yourself a favor,
and don't fucking go there with me.

You're a fucking child.
You're just a kid.

A kid?

Listen, you pompous, limey fuck...

...if you had one tenth my pain,
you'd be psychologically crippled.

Mate, seriously, fuck off.
All we're doing is projecting shit here.

Look, take a step back.
Let's relax, shall we?

- Do a bit of gear. Come on.
- Fuck the gear. I don't want that shit.

- More for me.
- It's Bateman, right?

- Nice to see your memory is still intact.
- Well, Bateman...

...let me give you a glimpse into
my life, insight into my fucking pain.

- Mate, it's not necessary. Truly.
- No, it is necessary.

And if you didn't think it was,
you wouldn't have pushed my buttons.

But you did.
And if you don't wanna hear it...

...stop snorting my shit
and get the fuck out of the bathroom.

Technically, it's my shit,
but I can see you're passionate, so go.

So this fucker...

...this fucking guy out in L.A.,
who my chick is now in love with...

...he's, you know, endowed.

- She told you that?
- Yeah. So I needed to know how big.

Not that I give a fuck
about another guy's dick.

It's one of those things
you feel like you need to know.

So we're in an argument,
and I was pushing her.

I was like, "How big is he?"

She was like, "Let's not make an issue
out of it." And I said, "No, fuck that."

And she says,
"Ten and a half inches."

- Jesus.
- Yeah, you believe that shit?

She could have at least
rounded it down.

- The girl's trying to hurt you, mate.
- Yeah, no shit.

But it really fucked with me, you know.
Knowing that this guy is in L.A...

...with the only woman I love,
fucking her with 10 and a half inches.

I'm chasing her around like a puppy,
doing anything I can to get her back.

And it crushed me!
It still fucking crushes me!

Sorry, mate.

- How exactly do you deal with that?
- You don't deal with it.

It deals with you.

God, it eats at you
and it eats at you, you know?

We'd get in these fights,
and I'd say the most horrible things.

I'd be like, "You just want a fat cock
in your fat snatch, you fucking whore."

You know, I'd--
Just mean, horrible things.

I'd be so fucking angry, you know?

I used to say the same shit, mate. I
used to say the most horrendous shit.

Why? What'd she do?

She didn't really do anything.

You know, I imagine that
a lot of it had to do with me.

A lot of it had to with my hang-ups
and depression and shit.

But, my God, I used to say the worst
shit to her. I tormented that girl.

I lived with her for three and a half
fucking years and I hated her.

So, what was the final snap?

Did you cheat on her?
Did she cheat on you?

No, no. God, no.

- How do you know?
- Because I didn't, you know? I didn't.

- How do you know she didn't?
- I know she didn't. It wasn't her thing.

How do you know?

I was with the most beautiful girl
in the universe.

She didn't fuck me
for two fucking years!

- Why?
- I don't know.

Because we fought. I was in therapy.

I don't-- I don't-- Look, I don't know.

If you wanna know it is, I'll tell you.

You remember sentences
that people say to you.

They stick in your mind like gunshot
wounds that never fucking heal.

I remember what my ex-wife
said to me when we started dating.

She said, "I love it when a guy
fucks me four, five times a night."

- Four, five times a night?
- Yeah. Truly.

I was like, "You was with some guy...

...who fucked you
four, five times a night?"

- You wanna know what pain is?
- What?

- I'll tell you what pain is, you fuck.
- Why you calling me a fuck?

- I'll tell you what pain is, you fuck.
- Why you calling me a fuck?

Because, my friend,
you brought me here...

...and I didn't particularly
wanna go here, but now I am.

If you don't wanna go
where I'm about to go...

...then tell me right now
and I'll walk out the door...

...I'll phone my therapist
and that will be it, okay?

No, fuck that, I wanna hear this.
You're not going anywhere.

- You wanna know what it is?
- Yes, I wanna know what it is.

Motherfucker, you wanna know
what it is? Pain, my friend...

...is when the woman you love
wants to fuck you...

...four, five times a night,
and you can't!

- Why?
- Why? Why?

I'll tell you why.
Because I'm an impotent man!

Motherfucker, that's pain!

That's fucking pain!

When your wife wants
to fuck you four times a night...

...and you fucking can't!

You know that some fucker
before you could.

And you know that some fucker
after you will!

Well, I couldn't
cope with that, could I?

That sense of ruination...

...that insolvency
that burns in your soul.

I couldn't fuck my wife!

Do know what
that fucking means, mate?

Do you understand
what impotent rage really is?!

- I'm sorry.
- You have no fucking idea, mate!

- I'm sorry.
- Oh, you're sorry?

Oh, you're sorry, are you?

You dare, you fucking dare
ask me if there's a God?

Well, man, I feel forsaken.
I feel cheated, you cunt!

I've lost in the big game,
and nothing else fucking matters.

It doesn't matter what you do.
If you can't hack it in the sack, mate...

...if you can't hack it
in the game of love and sex...

...you are shit, my friend.

Because you can't do what the other
man can do to your fucking wife, mate!

I know what you mean.

No, motherfucker,
you do not know what I mean!

You couldn't possibly know
what the fuck I mean!

I failed.

I fucking failed, mate.

And I'm still failing
every fucking day of my life!

Every day.

Every fucking day.

You know....

Thought you were gonna
clock me for a minute.

I wasn't gonna hit you.
I'm projecting.

You should see my group therapy
sessions. They're fucking psychotic.

Yeah, I'll bet.

Mate, do yourself a favor,
please, for me.

Go and talk to your chick.

I can't. To be honest, I'm thinking
about making for the elevator.

I can't go out like this.
She doesn't even want me here.

Look, I hate to break it to you, mate...

...but by now
she knows you're here...

...and, unfortunately,
time is not on your side.

What are you gonna do,
wait outside like a fucking stalker?

Wouldn't be the first time.

- Go, man, go. Come on.
- No, I can't, I can't, I can't.

Listen to me. God.

Listen to me, you might not have
a 10-and-a-half-inch cock...

...but at least you can still fuck her.

So quit worrying about
all the bullshit.

The fact is, she's here, you're here.

Life's too short
to be a pussy, mate. Truly.

Come on.

Not a whole lot going on in L.A.,
but we'll find something.

Hey, London.
Could I talk to you for a second?

Yeah. What is it?
What do you want?

I wanna know if we can go somewhere
and talk for a second, please.

You don't wanna talk here?
We can't just talk right here?

Please.

Syd,
A, this is my going-away party...

...and I think it would be pretty uncool
to the people who threw it for me...

...if I left just because
you wanted to talk.

And, B, I don't know
if you noticed...

...but we were kind of
in the middle of a conversation...

...so I don't know what to tell you.

Listen, I'm gonna grab another drink.
Can I--? Can I get you something?

Actually, yeah.

I'd love something.
Something strong.

- Fuck me up.
- All right.

What about you, bruiser?
What are you drinking?

Is that a bottle of cockblocker?

So....

I heard you've been snorting drugs
all night. Really productive.

I heard you told people
I tried to kill myself.

That's really fucking great of you.
I really appreciate it.

Who the fuck told you that?
I would never say that.

- You know that.
- The fact is, I have known you...

...since you were 10.
We have been through everything.

And you don't have
the decency to call--

- Please keep your voice down?
- What the fuck is that?!

- You wanna talk? Fine, let's go.
- Get the fuck off me.

I'm sorry, excuse me.

- I'm sorry, excuse me. I'm sorry.
- What?

- London, are you okay?
- Yeah.

We're just gonna--
We're gonna go and talk.

Yeah? Because if you want, I'll call
security and have him taken out.

Becca, could you do me a favor?
Stay out of this?

You've been doing coke in the
bathroom all night so don't tell me...

...what I can and can't do
in my own fucking house...

...considering you
weren't even invited.

It's cool, Bec. We're gonna go.
It's gonna be fine.

It's not cool, London.
Baby, he wasn't invited.

You didn't want him here,
I didn't want him.

- No one wants him here.
- Becca, can you relax? Please?

- Don't tell me to relax.
- Why can't you relax for two seconds?

- We're leaving.
- You're shouting at my fucking party.

Also you're psychotic.
You couldn't take a hint...

...if it smashed you in the face.
She doesn't want to be with you.

- Not even 20 seconds.
- We're leaving. Let's go.

- Bec, we're leaving. I'm sorry.
- You know what?

I'm sorry, London, and I'm not
trying to be a bitch here...

...but when you come back,
you come back alone.

I don't want you
in my house again, all right?

Or I will call the cops.

Becca, I'm really trying
to be calm here, all right?

Fuck off. I'm so tired of you
and your psycho fucking shit.

You wanna talk about psycho?

- Let's talk about your fucked-up life.
- Stop it.

- Fuck you!
- Fuck this! You wanna fuck with me?

You wanna fuck with me?
Let's do it right fucking now.

I think I would love to do that. I don't
really know a lot of people there.

Why don't you fuck off, alrighty?

You weren't even invited to this.

- You wanna fuck with me?
- Stop it. We're leaving right now!

How many friends did you fuck
freshman year? Fifteen, 20?

I think I lost count. Was it
the whole fucking pledge class?

Jay, you never really know
your girlfriend.

Isn't that a total mind-fuck?

You're a fucking bastard!

You fucking wanker! Get the fuck
out of my fucking house!

Hey!

- Fuck you.
- Come on, then!

Fucking prick.
You want some, you fucking slag?

Hey, Syd!

Here, you cunt.
Have some of that, you fuck.

Fuck off. Come on, then.

Hey, Syd!

Get off, you fucking asshole.

You fucker. Get the fuck off him.

Come on.

Wait a minute, I gotta get Bateman.

What? Who the fuck is Bateman?

Come on, you cunts!
You want some, do you? Do you?

Let's go, Bateman. Come on.

- My coat. My Burberry coat.
- Fuck it, leave the jacket.

- I've had it 10 fucking years.
- I'll get it.

- Are you fucking crazy?
- We'll be downstairs.

Guy's fucking nuts.

- You're bleeding.
- I am so sorry.

- Where?
- This is fucking insane.

- You are insane.
- I am so sorry.

If you wanna go back, I understand.

- You don't wanna talk?
- Yeah, I wanna talk. I mean....

Well, where?
Where do you wanna go?

My car's two blocks away
if you want coffee.

- Yeah, okay.
- All right. Okay.

Look, you're probably not
gonna believe this at all...

...but I was kind of glad
when I heard you were at the party.

Ever since you and I broke up,
I've wanted...

...to have a normal conversation,
just a normal conversation with you.

And I just feel like every time
I see you, it just gets so, like....

Like, weird and chaotic and scrambled,
and I can't organize my thoughts...

...and I can't even express the most
basic things I want to say to you.

I know. Me too.

Whatever we had when we were
together, when we were in love...

...that feeling of just being able to lie in
bed with someone for days and days...

...and not give a fuck
about the outside world...

...is gone.

And I feel like there's nothing
I can do to ever get it back.

Do you know how painful that is?

Yeah. Yeah, I do.

I cried for weeks when we broke up.

You cried for weeks?

Yes.

The hardest thing
I've ever dealt with in my life.

How long did you go through that?

A long time. A long time.

I mean, the first month,
it was so fucking bad. And then...

...you know, slowly, it gets better.

That's the difference
between you and me, London.

I'm still going through it.

I tried to call you
a dozen times today.

I'm terrified. I'm-- I'm afraid.

Of what? What are you afraid of?

I'm afraid of falling in love
with you again.

- Sorry, Syd.
- Yeah, yeah, yeah.

Yeah, man, you fucked
your eye up.

Yeah, great party, mate.

It was fucking insane.

- But good chat, seriously.
- Definitely.

You know, they say the greatest
conversation you'll ever have...

- ...is with a stranger?
- Who says that?

Some useless cunt.

You guys need a ride?
We can go uptown.

Me and Mallory....

Don't know. We're gonna
catch a late drink...

...cup of tea, something or other.

Raise the flag, perhaps.

Good luck. Thank you.

That's it. Thank you, mate. Truly.

London, lovely name, darling.

- Thanks.
- Nice to meet you.

- Have a safe flight.
- Nice to meet you.

- Come by the bar, all right?
- I will.

London, call me. Have a safe flight.

We're gonna catch a little drink.

All right.

Can I ask you something?

Yeah.

You do love him?

I never said I was in love with him.

Listen, Syd.

It's gonna be a really,
really long time...

...before, you know,
I fall in love with anybody...

...the way that I was in love with you.

What time is it?

It's like 6:30.

Six-thirty? Fuck. Shit.

My plane leaves in like an hour.
Shit. Shit. Shit.

I will see you again.

I promise.

I'm gonna miss you so much.

I'm gonna miss you too.

I gotta go.

Sorry.

- Hello.
- Hi.

Sorry, I am-- I'm just really late.

- I don't even know my flight number.
- That's all right.

Just for one second, okay?

- Here's my ID.
- Thank you.

Just give me a few minutes
while I look for your information.

Okay. Bye.

Goodbye.

Bye.

Bye.

Okay, miss,
I have your flight information.

Sorry.

I think I might have missed my plane.
Can you make sure I'll be all right?

London?

I love you.

- Can you give me a second, please?
- Sure. No problem.

That's the first time you said it first.

- Here you go. You're all set.
- Sorry.

Okay.

- So I'm set? Great.
- Yeah.

- Here's your ticket.
- Thank you.

- I'm not really sure where to go.
- Gate 35. Upstairs.

Thank you and have a great flight.

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