Original subtitles

♪ ♪

♪ ♪

♪ ♪

This is Brandon's locker.

Uh, not anymore, they just assigned it to me.

But, uh, I could be Brandon if you want.

Morning, Andrea.

Brandon, what are you doing over here?

Well, I heard locker values appreciate quicker

on this side of the quad.

Oh, you mean, you're ducking Emily.

I just don't want to deal with it right now.

Brandon, avoidance is how you're dealing with it.

I don't know, I'm just not an in-your-face type of guy.

Hey, Bran,

why don't you get that ugly mug out of my face.

Man, what did you have for breakfast,

a skunk McMuffin?

(laughs) That's my fave.

Good morning, campers.

Morning, ladies.

DAVID (on P.A.): Before I sign off, remember,

Beverly High may trounce West Beverly High

at the annual homecoming game next week,

but that doesn't mean we can't have

the best floats in the whole parade.

So get out your chicken wire, your toilet paper,

and we'll see you at halftime.

Do we really have to enter this contest?

Yes. It'll be fun.

You guys, I'm not exactly

a member of the pep club either,

but, you know, I really think

we have a chance of winning.

You think so? Yeah.

So can we have the lumber delivered to your house?

Whoa, wait a minute.

Hold on, Brandon.

You're the only family in Beverly Hills

that actually has tools in their tool shed.

KELLY: Are Brenda and Dylan committed to the...

Brandon?

Huh?

Oh, uh, yeah.

Actually, Brenda designed the, uh, float.

In that case, we'll be there.

See ya.

See ya, bro. Later.

Andrea, you don't feel like

editing the sports page today, do ya?

It's not gonna get any easier

unless you tell her the truth.

Yeah.

"And have you noticed that all the rich kids north of Sunset

have the biggest egos and the smallest brains?"

Oh, God, don't tell me.

'Fraid so. Phantom pen pal strikes again.

What's this, like, the fourth letter we've gotten?

Are you kidding? This is like,

the seventh in the last two weeks.

Hey, I think we should give this guy his own column.

You would, Griffin.

GRIFFIN: No, no, this is pure social satire.

"Wouldn't it be hysterical

"to see what your basic West Beverly princesses would do

if somebody slashed their BMW convertibles to shreds?"

Ugh, this guy is twisted.

Really, this is not my idea of satire.

Come on, people, we got a paper to put out.

Let's do it.

Brandon?

Yeah?

Why'd you move your locker?

You want to know the real reason?

Yeah.

Well, I was just spending so much time here,

I figured it'd be more convenient.

Mm.

Excuse me.

Brandon...

how about going out tonight?

I can't, Emily.

Come on, Brandon.

It's been two weeks since we've been together.

No, I really can't.

I have to study tonight.

Well, how 'bout I come over and we can study together?

I really don't think

we'd get much studying done that way.

Listen, I gotta go.

Brandon, aren't we ever gonna...

Okay.

You have to study.

I understand.

See you later.

Dylan, time out.

Okay, Coach,

I'll sit the bench for awhile.

Time-out's over.

No, Dyl... (laughs)

Dylan, come on, come on,

we're supposed to be studying history,

not sex education.

Well, I-I'm sorry.

There's just something about this Louisiana Purchase.

You know, it drives me wild.

Dylan, I'm serious.

We should be doing more than this.

Uh, you know, I think so, too.

Let's go upstairs.

No!

Look, I mean more than making out all the time.

Uh, not that I don't like it, because I do.

I like it a lot.

It's just that it's practically

all we ever do anymore.

Oh, that's not true.

I mean, last weekend, we went to a movie.

Yeah, and we barely saw any of it.

Well, that's not my fault.

I mean, I wasn't exactly kissing myself, you know.

Look, all I'm saying is we should make

a little extra effort to do something interesting...

or cultural.

So we won't feel guilty when we're making out all the time.

Exactly.

(phone ringing)

Hello.

(dial tone) Hello?

(phone ringing)

Yeah.

(dial tone)

Great.

(phone rings)

Listen, pal, I hope you're having a good time,

'cause I'm about to call the phone company

and they're going to track you down-- you got that?

Yeah, I got it.

And you gotta get out of the house a little more, Walsh.

Steve?

Yeah. Hey, what's going on, Walsh?

You got yourself a heavy breather?

Uh, no-- hang-ups.

Ah, well, why don't you come down to the Peach Pit--

and we won't worry about it here?

Nah, I'm studying, man.

You're studying? It's Friday night.

That's immoral.

Well, I already put in a 30-hour work week behind the counter.

So why don't you come down and be a customer?

See how the other half lives.

Forget it. I'm not going to bring you any hot sauce.

You know where it is.

Nat, show this young man respect.

He's a paying customer.

No, he's not.

He's part of the family and it's on the house--

both of you.

Oh, well, thanks... gramps. Thanks.

Hey, I've got to eat with you more often.

But anyway, listen.

If she's not getting the message,

you just have to be firm.

Spell it out.

Tell her, "Adios, sayonara, au revoir, finito."

The United Nations approach.

Tell her it doesn't work and then it's over.

Period.

Easy to say, hard to do.

Easy to do.

Look who just walked in.

Oh, God, I told her I was studying.

Be firm.

Hey, what a coincidence.

I thought you were committed to the books tonight.

Yeah, just taking a little break.

Well, my parents are out of town for the weekend

and I'm here for dinner.

Mind if I join you?

Well, why don't you take my seat?

I gotta make a few phone calls.

Thanks, Steve. Sure.

It's so weird.

I was just thinking about you and here you are.

Yeah.

That's called Kismet, you know.

When two lovers are destined to be together

forever and ever and...

Look, Emily, I don't know how else to say this

except just say it, so I hope you understand.

Brandon...

But I don't think we should see each other anymore.

Look, I know you're really mad about that drug thing,

and I can't blame you.

No, I'm not mad.

Well, you should be.

It was the stupidest thing I ever did in my life

and I am so incredibly sorry.

I love you.

You know that, don't you?

You know that I'd never do anything to hurt you.

Yeah, I know, but I have to go with what I feel.

Brandon, please.

Why can't you find it in your heart to forgive me?

Why can't you give me a second chance?

Please. I'll do anything.

Anything.

Just give me a second chance.

I wish it was that simple.

I really do.

(sighs)

But that doesn't mean we can't be friends.

Good friends.

Maybe if we just-- we cool out for a couple of weeks,

and you have time to think about it before you make

a final decision. Emily,

it's all I have been thinking about for the last two weeks.

And I'm really sorry, but it's just the way it's got to be.

♪ Till the end of time... ♪

If I had a fairy godmother and she could grant me one wish,

it would be to turn back the clock and start over.

Yeah, I know how you feel.

Do you?

Good night, Emily.

Oh, my God.

Brandon, look.

What a perfect way to end a perfectly marvelous week.

Any way to salvage it?

I'm afraid it's a goner.

It's probably the same guy that wants

to slash all the BMWs.

I wouldn't worry about it, Emily.

You're not exactly a "West Beverly Princess."

(voice breaking): Why didn't he just slash my throat while he was at it?

Hey, hey.

It'll be okay.

Don't worry. I'll take care of it.

Don't worry.

Well, here are some towels, and that's just about it.

Thanks, Mrs. Walsh, but you and Brandon

didn't really have to go to all this trouble.

Oh, it's no trouble. It's our pleasure.

Now, you just get some rest.

You'll feel better in the morning. Thanks.

And if you, uh, need anything,

feel free to call the concierge.

(door closes)

(sighs)

You know... even the Holiday Inn

gets a little warning before a guest checks in.

What was I supposed to do, Brenda?

Oh, well, let's see, drop her off at her house?

Her parents are out of town.

Poor baby. Afraid of the dark, huh?

Come on, Brenda, getting your tire slashed is a very creepy thing.

Anyway, it's like Mom says--

if we can't show compassion for people in trouble,

then why are we put on this earth.

Yeah, well, Mom didn't see you as high as a kite

on the U4EA Emily slipped into your drink.

Do you have to bring that up every time we talk about her?

Yes, because I don't trust her, Brenda...

and I don't like the way she's taking advantage of you.

Are you finished?

Yes, I am.

Hold on, I want to say something.

You and Dylan are the only two people

who know that she spiked my drink at the club.

I'd like to keep it that way.

Brandon, why are you

so into protecting her?

Because I don't want to see her become the "outcast"

just because I break up with her.

She's not a bad person. She's really not.

Fine.

(sighs)

(dog barks in distance)

(groans)

Is the concierge open for business?

Emily...

Hi.

No, Emily, we're not doing this.

You better go.

Brandon...

What do you want, you want to be with me tonight

and have me break up with you tomorrow morning?

Is that what you want?

If we make love right now,

I promise you won't want to break up with me.

Emily, to make love I have to be in love.

Okay.

I'll leave.

(sighs)

Remember, Brandon...

I love you.

Oh... Oh, no, not at all.

She's safe and sound.

Yes, Emily spent the night here.

It's no problem at all.

Well, we felt, with her tire being slashed...

Thank you, Mrs. Walsh. I'll talk to her.

Of course.

Hi.

Didn't you get the message?

No, my tire was slashed.

Well, Brandon drove me.

No, Mom, I slept in Brenda's room.

His sister.

Yeah.

No, it's fine. Don't worry.

I'll be home soon.

Okay. Love you.

Bye-bye.

Is everything all right?

Yeah, sure. They just got home early.

DAVID: Steve, you're doing a great job,

but do you think you could look a little more

carpenter-esque?

Silver, I'm warning you, off with the video.

Now! (drill whirring)

It's important to record this.

But why?

Because some West Beverly floats have been accused

of being built by professionals.

Well, this tape'll put that notion to rest.

Hi, guys. Sorry I'm late.

What's with the outfit, Donna?

Oh, well, Andrea said carpentry.

All right, Donna, you can, uh, help me paint.

Paint?

I'm not getting paint on these clothes.

I can't believe she's wearing that.

What?

That's Brandon's prize shirt

from the '87 series.

I mean, he's gonna go ballistic.

Talk about a fashion statement.

Hey, everybody.

KELLY: Hi. BRENDA: Hey.

Yo, Dylan,

we should probably, uh, power-sand those boards

before we put 'em in place, huh?

Cute shirt.

I spent last night here with Brandon,

and I had nothing to wear this morning.

Pardon me?

Brandon invited me to stay over last night,

and things got a little... well, you know.

He's something special.

I got to check the paint.

I thought you blew her off.

Yeah, well, she blew back in.

You didn't...

I didn't lay a hand on her.

I just can't believe you'd let someone actually

touch the 1987 World Championship shirt.

She won't leave me alone, man,

and she won't take a hint.

I've already broken up with her in clear and certain terms.

Yeah, well, obviously not clear enough.

What am I supposed to do, be brutal?

That's not me, man.

No, you're still trying to be Brandon Walsh,

the all-American nice guy, right?

What can I say?

You're afraid of what would happen to her

if you dumped her.

I guess.

Man, I'm afraid of all the things

that could happen to you if you don't.

Boy!

Come on, you two, pitch in.

I want to see you sweat.

Oh, forget it.

No way!

Yeah, well, I want to see you sweat.

Dylan, not now.

My parents are right over there.

Okay, I'll just have to wait till I get you

alone at the concert tonight.

Dylan, come on, you promised.

I was just kidding.

You're avoiding me.

You know, Emily, between me and Brenda,

we must have four dozen T-shirts and sweatshirts.

Why'd you have to choose my favorite one?

It makes me feel closer to you. I won't do anything to it.

Except get paint all over it.

A little club soda, it will come right out.

Just forget it, okay?

No big deal. I'll take it off.

Emily, what is it with you?

Are you just trying to be funny or are you trying to drive me crazy?

(string quartet playing classical melody)

Well, we're off to a promising start.

It's so...

Romantic?

(applause)

MAN: That was just amazing.

I feel so sorry for the people sitting behind us.

They must've thought we were so immature.

We couldn't go 20 minutes without pawing each other.

You guys? Never.

You know, the funny thing is that

we actually liked the music.

Maybe that was our problem, we liked it too much.

I don't think that was the problem, Bren.

Anyway, we're gonna give it another chance next week,

sort of increase our tolerance level.

Sort of like holding your breath under water, huh?

Y... no.

Brandon. Hi.

Hi. I need to talk to you.

I'm sorry about your shirt.

And I'm really sorry about that crazy stunt

of sneaking into your bedroom the other night.

And I want you to know if you never spoke to me again

I'd understand.

Well, we'll speak again, Emily.

Hell, we work on the same newspaper, right?

Well, I just want you to know... (clears throat)

that I'm ready to deal with the situation.

I fell for you hard.

But if it's not going to work out,

it's not going to work out.

And that's cool.

Friends?

The phantom pen pal strikes again.

Listen, "Geraldo,"

Andrea's worked hard to keep gossip out of the paper.

And I don't think now is the time to start putting it in.

This ain't gossip, Brandon.

This one is psycho time.

"...and it will be my pleasure to throw gasoline

on the fire that burns this school to the ground."

And he expects us to print this?

That's what he's demanding, but we're obviously

not going to give a nut case a forum.

Hey, like it or not, baby, this is news.

ANDREA: I'm sorry, there is nothing

newsworthy about hate mail. I mean, listen how he ends this:

"And if some of the little bitches

get caught in the flames, toss me another marshmallow."

I think we ought to take it to the police.

(phone ringing)

Hang on a sec. Let me turn this thing off.

(machine beeps)

(line clicks) Hi, sorry about that.

(dial tone) Hello?

(tape rewinding) Come on, Dad. What's up?

The suspense is killing me.

Wait, wait just a second. Listen to this.

(button clicks, machine beeps)

EMILY (on machine): Hi. It's me, Brandon.

I was just thinking of you.

It's Emily.

Your baby blues and that totally disarming smile

that fills any rainy day I have with sunshine.

I miss you, Brandon.

I miss being next to you.

The feel of your arms wrapped around me.

The touch of your skin.

The way you caress my body.

(slams button) I think we get the picture, Dad.

Are you sure?

There's 12 more here just like it

if you want to listen to them.

No, thank you, Dad.

So what the hell is going on here, Brandon?!

(phone ringing)

Hello? Hello, Emily? (line disconnects)

(dial tone) I'm getting sick of this.

We don't know that was her. BRENDA: Oh, come on, Mom.

It's pretty obvious.

And it's pretty obvious that she wanted

me and your mother to hear those messages.

Which I don't think is the sign of a balanced person.

Well, she's been pretty upset

ever since we broke up, but I talked to her

at school today, and she acted

like everything was okay.

The key word being "acted."

CINDY: Well, now, let's not be too harsh.

I mean, Brenda, remember just a few months ago with Dylan?

You said it yourself.

I mean, breaking up is hard to do.

Honey...

Mom, that was completely different.

Emily Valentine has stepped way over the line.

I mean, this isn't about a broken heart.

This is about a fatal attraction.

And how did Michael Douglas handle it?

Not well.

(phone ringing)

Hello? Hello? (line disconnects)

(dial tone)

Ready?

Ready, set, go.

Well, you have plenty of energy this morning.

Well, I got plenty of sleep last night.

Yeah. No phone calls.

I guess your crank caller finally gave up.

Or got put out of business.

You know, Brandon, beating Emily at her own game for one night

is fine, but you can't go through your whole life

with your phone off the hook.

I just don't know what to do anymore.

Do you want me to talk to her?

I'll tell her what the score is. Forget it.

The way you feel right now, you'd bite her head off.

Well, that would be an improvement.

Look,

obviously the girl's kinda messed up.

Kinda?

Give me a break. I mean,

she's bothered in the extreme.

The way she sounded on the answering machine last night,

I wouldn't be surprised if she was a hard-core stoner.

Brenda, you don't know that about her.

You don't know anything about her.

Yeah, well, neither do you.

Have you been inside her house, Brandon?

Have you met her parents?

Do you know any of her friends from her old school?

Face it, Brandon.

Nobody knows who this girl is.

What's this?

Oh, I don't know.

it's a little too early for Christmas.

It has your name on it.

It's been cleaned and ironed.

Fine.

She washes, irons and cooks.

Homemade cake with a note:

"Sorry to you and your family. Emily."

Maybe we were a little off

on the Fatal Attraction theory, huh?

No, Brandon, we're dead on it and keep in it.

Oh, looks good.

Brandon, don't eat that.

Look, this whole thing could be dosed with U4EA-- or worse.

I repeat.

You don't know who this girl is.

Morning!

Hey! What's that?

A folding Corona.

God, that's beautiful.

Yeah, it's a work of art.

My dad gave it to me when I was ten.

All the great old reporters used to travel with these.

This has probably seen wars,

maybe even typed a novel in Paris. Who knows?

Mm. You can feel the keys.

It's got a real strength, this machine.

I love it.

I'm glad you like it.

I'm giving it to the paper.

Oh... I, I can't accept this.

You really care about your work.

I know you'll respect it and take care of it.

So let's just call it a parting gift,

and thanks for your letting me write for you.

Wait a minute. Are, are you going somewhere?

Yeah, I'm quitting the paper.

You're joking.

No, it's for the best.

Let's face it, I really blew it with Brandon,

and for his sake, I shouldn't be where I'm not wanted.

Emily, you're writing's getting really good,

and if you want to stay, it's... it's okay with me.

Thanks.

I'll see you at the inauguration?

Where?

You know, when we finish the float.

I don't know.

Hey, you helped build it.

I'm really not in a big rush to be where I'm not wanted.

Look, you belong in that picture.

You sure?

Absolutely.

Thanks, Andrea.

He's taking you where?!

Out for an evening of Paganini.

Oh, their pasta is supposed to be excellent.

Donna, Paganini is a composer.

He wrote all this wild stuff for the violin.

And you guys like that kind of music?

Don't you know?

Brenda and Dylan go to concerts

so they can make out to music. Not!

Look, in addition to listening to some very interesting music,

we are also showing that we're mature enough

to restrain ourselves in public..

(clears throat) Hmm!

Speaking of restraint, I would really just like

to bust that girl's chops sometimes.

What is your problem with her?

Yeah. I mean, she's always nice to me.

Look, I really don't want to get into it.

Just trust me.

She's doing a major obsession job on Brandon.

I used to do that all the time.

Kelly, not like this.

Uh-huh. In eighth grade,

I sent Ronnie Lightstone perfumed love letters

and called him ten times a day.

And what happened?

Well, his mother paid a visit to my mother

and I got grounded, lost my phone privileges,

and learned the gentle art of subtlety.

Yeah, well, Emily Valentine

has stepped way over the line of being subtle.

(bell ringing)

Oh, don't forget. Andrea wants us

to take a picture in front of the float

for the paper, okay? I'm there. Me three.

Right. Bye. See ya. Bye.

DYLAN: All right, you guys, hoist it up there.

There we go, Steve. Right there.

DYLAN: There. All right.

(sighs)

DAVID: Wow, check it out.

Check that out.

Looks terrific, Brandon.

Thanks.

Why'd you have to bring her?

Come on, Brandon.

She worked as hard as everybody else.

I couldn't leave her out.

All right you guys, she's ready to go-- let's roll.

ANDREA: All right, everybody.

Let's get in place for this picture, huh?

I'm gonna start the timer. Is everyone ready?

(timer whirring) (clears throat)

Ten, nine, eight,

seven, six, five,

four, three...

Damn it, Emily! Enough!

(camera shutter clicking)

Don't touch me, don't call me,

don't leave cakes on my doorstep.

Don't manipulate situations so you wind up in my bedroom,

and don't lie to my friends about some night of passion

that never happened, all right?!

Brandon... No. I'm sorry.

I tried to do this the nice way, but you won't take a hint!

I can't help it.

I love you.

Emily, listen to me...

No, no, you listen to me.

When I first moved to L.A.,

a lot of guys were hitting on me, and I had my pick,

but then I went out with you.

I thought you were different.

I thought you were special.

I thought what we had was special.

That's why I wanted my first time to be with you,

so my first time would be something

I'd always want to remember.

(Emily laughs)

You gave me something to remember, all right.

When I first moved here, everyone thought I was a slut.

Well, Brandon, you've managed to make me feel like one.

Thanks for the memories.

Brandon... let her go.

(sighs)

(sighs)

Brandon Walsh sure knows how to dump a girl.

I've never seen anybody so smooth.

What was I supposed to do?

She wouldn't leave me alone.

Well, maybe now she will.

It's not that I don't like her.

It's just, the minute I tried to cool things off,

she went ballistic.

What did you say to her?

Well, basically, he told her to drop dead.

CINDY: Brandon!

I did not! I just put my foot down.

It was out of control.

Well, I feel bad for her.

I mean, at that age, overwhelmed by emotions,

you don't always act rationally.

I'm sure she's ashamed of herself, and

I just hope that whatever you said,

you didn't say it in front of anybody.

(phone ringing)

I'll get it.

Hello.

Hello?

(line clicks)

(dial tone)

Well, whatever you said didn't cure her phone habit.

(sighs)

(keypad beeping)

(phone ringing)

That's it. I'm calling the phone company.

No, no, no.

Let me handle this.

(New York accent): How youse doin'?

This is Sal's Pizzeria.

We got 'em large, small, plain, and your choice of

14 delicious toppings just-a for you.

(dial tone)

Hello?

(clicks tongue)

Well, that got her.

Look, making fun of Emily

is not the way to deal with this.

We should just call her parents.

(doorbell ringing)

I'll get it.

Come on, ring.

I'm just getting warmed up.

BRANDON: Andrea, what are you doing here?

Shouldn't you be putting the paper to sleep?

It's "to bed," Steve. To bed.

Brandon, you know those... those bizarre letters

we were getting at the paper?

Yeah.

Well, we got another one, and it's worse than the last.

So?

So, I'm no Columbo, but, uh,

all those letters were written on Emily's typewriter.

Let me look at that.

"West Beverly, heed my cry.

"Abusers of love deserve to die.

"Smug and secure in their well-mannered house,

"they won't have long,

I'm as quiet as a mouse."

And a poet on top of everything else.

Don't you see?

She wanted me to discover these.

These letters-- they're-they're a cry for help.

Cry for help?

They're a pretty obvious threat.

(phone ringing)

(dial tone)

(keypad beeping)

(busy signal)

(sighs)

( tuning violin )

I hope tonight's concert is a little livelier than last week's.

Don't worry. We will not be bored.

Oh, yeah? Since when did you become such an expert?

Hey, I'm just into passion,

wherever I can find it.

Hey, behave yourself.

(violin playing)

I don't get it.

One minute, she's this nice sweet girl.

The next minute, she's writing these weird letters.

I don't know. I think Emily has

what is called a borderline-type personality.

Andrea, she's nuts.

Yeah, but something causes that, Steve. I mean, think about it.

She has moved from high school to high school.

She probably has some deep-rooted dependency needs.

I mean, she's looking for something more stable.

Something permanent to latch onto.

Me?

Well, it's like I said, she's nuts.

Well, her parents aren't listed.

Are you sure you don't have any other number for her?

Just the one she gave me.

It's probably her private line.

Well, it's off the hook.

Brandon, give us her address.

I want to go over there tomorrow

and have a talk with her parents.

Dad, I really don't think that....

Brandon, it's gone far enough.

Parent to parent is really the best way to deal with this.

(violin playing)

(violin playing)

(audience applauding)

♪ ♪

BRENDA: Dylan, look.

Emily, what are you doing?!

DYLAN: Brenda, wait.

It's covered in gasoline.

BRENDA: Emily, come on. Let's talk about this.

Hey, this is dangerous.

EMILY: What is there to talk about?

I know you hate me, Brenda.

You've hated me since the first day I started school here.

Emily, I don't hate you.

Don't lie to me, Brenda. Not now.

Hey, Bren, wait a minute.

She is whacked.

Dylan, she's talking to me.

I have to listen.

You've never forgiven me for going out with him.

And you resent the fact that Brandon liked me.

Emily, that's not true.

Don't lie to me, Brenda.

You think I'm fooling around here?

Do you think I'm interested in your two-faced talk?

You turned everyone

against me after I worked so hard

to become part of your precious little group.

I don't want to be a part of anything anymore.

Emily, don't talk like that.

You are a part of our group.

Are you kidding?

After the way Brandon dumped me--

humiliated me in front of everyone?

Why doesn't your brother like me, Brenda?

What did I do?

Emily, Brandon's a trusting person.

And you betrayed his trust.

It's gonna take time to get that back.

He won't.

He won't ever forgive me.

Yes, he will.

I swear to you he will.

Look, if you want Brandon to give you a chance,

you have to give him a chance.

I know my brother.

Believe me, he has his faults.

But probably one of the greatest things about him

is his amazing ability to forgive.

And if you want him to forgive you Emily,

you have to give him his space.

And I swear to you, he will.

I'm sorry, Brenda.

I'm sorry.

It's okay.

(gasping): Emily!

Emily, what's going on?

I'm sorry, Brandon.

I'm sorry for everything.

I'm sorry for the phone calls...

for making up that story about my tires being slashed,

so I could spend the night with you...

for those disgusting letters I didn't mean...

but most of all...

I'm sorry for slipping you the U4EA.

I don't expect you...

to ever want to forgive me...

or even to talk to me again.

I guess when I lost you, I went crazy.

I thought I hated you.

I thought I hated all of you.

But the person I hate most of all, right now, is myself.

Emily, you need to get some help.

Has anything like this ever happened before?

A year ago, we moved,

and I locked myself in my room for three days,

and played loud music and screamed.

But...

moving to Beverly Hills was a whole new kind of pressure.

This place is tough.

You all made it easier.

But I gotta admit...

I do need some help.

I really need some help.

(knock on door)

Bren, you asleep?

No.

What did Emily's parents say when you dropped her off?

Well, they couldn't say enough.

They wanted to talk to me... and Mom, Dad...

Her mom told me she's been seeing a psychiatrist,

on and off, for years.

Brandon, what do you think is wrong with her?

I don't know.

It's like she's incredibly lonely.

And, at the same time, she can't deal with the idea

of being close to anyone.

I don't know, I'm no shrink.

No, you're definitely not.

She told me what happened out there.

What'd you say to get her to come down off the float?

I told her that she would always

have two friends in Beverly Hills.

Good night, Bren.

Good night, Brandon.