Original subtitles

You know the rules, tenant.

It's Nate.

It is one thing to throw a party

that rose above a dull whisper.

It is another thing for me to crash that party,

ingest a series of chemicals and take a bath in your sink,

and it is quite another for me to beg your friends

and/or family to take my virginity,

for each of them to look me in the eye,

and for most of them to say no, but a book club?

Can you go back a second?

Did I or did I not tell you I was reading

the war section of War and Peace?

Did you?

I did.

And who wrote War and Peace?

Leo Tolstoy.

What else did he write?

Anna Karenina.

You see my problem?

Yesterday, I was minding my own business,

reading your mail, when I saw a group

of smartly-dressed women leave your apartment

all carrying copies of that book.

To be fair, it was the SparkNotes.

I haven't felt this alone since I was

surgically separated from my twin,

and then my birth mother left me in a trash can

outside Bloomies, and now I lay awake most nights

thinking hey, where's my twin?

Tenant, you have one week to move out.

What?

Ruth, no, no, please!

Don't beg.

Look, I'll give you back your security deposit.

One.

Two.

Three.

Four.

Five.

Six.

You heard her?

Who?

Ruth, you heard our conversation?

No.

Then why are you packing?

We're being evicted.

Sorry to hear it.

That's all you're gonna say?

Are these yours or mine?

Can you please stop?

We're not getting kicked out for another week.

Fine, we'll split them.

I don't get it.

You're the one who lied to me yesterday,

and why, what's the point?

Did you wanna hurt me?

Humiliate me?

And now what, am I supposed to beg you to stay?

It'll never work.

It's worked before.

No, us.

This.

I don't think we're supposed to be together.

What are you talking...

Relationships are hard.

They're about compromise and sacrifice,

and you're just, I mean, we can't give up

every single time we get in a fight.

And by the way, you're the one

who gave me Walker's number.

You told me to call him, so why am I the one

getting punished?

I've just been trying so hard to make you happy.

Like, you wanna move in together?

Let's move in together.

You wanna invite Aaron to our party?

Okay, text our address to your ex-boyfriend.

You wanna sleep with other guys,

'cause it's still not enough?

Fine, sleep with Walker.

Do it in our bed, while you're at it.

So there you go, you got everything you asked for.

I'm just...

You didn't wanna move in with me?

Blaine, can you get that?

I don't know, Nate.

You're my best friend.

I thought Chloe Sevigny was your best friend.

You FaceTime every night.

I've never met her.

What happened, did he cry?

Was it funny?

You can stay with us.

Charlie Puth got us a hotel.

Wait.

If you have something to say, you know my number.

I don't, actually.

I have it saved, but I don't actually know it.

If somebody held me at gunpoint and told me to recite it.

Bye, Nate.

What's going on?

He's moving out.

Why?

What did I do?

No, no, no.

This isn't about--

No, no, no!

Luke!

She was just a pawn, man.

Who?

His mom, okay?

Wait, what?

We don't all grow up like you.

It was too hard for me to say, "Hey, I'm queer

"or questioning.

"Hey, I wanna be spanked by other men."

But you two made me feel so comfortable,

and I screwed it up.

I'm sorry, is this actually happening?

I just wanted him to notice me.

You slept with his mother!

Because I love him!

I can't believe he was right about you.

Wait.

He knows I'm into him?

He knows I like to be spanked?

He knows.

I guess this is the part of the movie

where the hero gets the guy.

Nate, thank you.

You've been a great supporting player.

Okay, I have something to say.

Hello?

Nate, honey, I--

No, wait, mom.

I'm sorry I yelled at you.

I know I shouldn't have said those things,

but I just, I felt like this wasn't my home anymore.

I shouldn't have yelled at you.

And in front of Nancy.

It was her first time at book club.

Yeah, but mom, if you wanna come over,

you have to call me first.

Whenever I call, you don't pick up,

so I just stopped trying.

Because you don't give me a chance to call you.

I'm your mother, of course I'm gonna call you.

How else am I supposed to know you're okay?

You don't, you just have to trust me.

I want to, sweetie, but you don't clean up

after yourself or fold your clothes right

or buy the good smoked fish, and the dust in New York,

you know it's out of control, and I don't see you

wiping down your own countertops.

Because you keep wiping them down for me!

I just, I feel like I'm with you

more than I'm with my own boyfriend!

Or not my boy- I mean, I guess I don't know what he is.

Did something happen?

Should I come over?

God, no, mom.

Just let me...

It's not that I don't want you around,

because I do want you around sometimes,

but you have to let me do things on my own.

I just want you to have the best home and the best life.

Right now, I barely have a life!

Sometimes I just don't know who else to call.

Dad's out of town and your brother's doing Birthright again,

and I know you can clean your own countertops,

and if you don't wanna buy the low-fat whitefish salad,

you don't have to buy the low-fat whitefish salad.

I still need you to work on folding your clothes, so,

but I know I go too far sometimes,

and I'm trying to be better.

I'm sorry, Nate.

You are the greatest person I know.

No, mom, I mean,

I'm not like...

I mean, maybe I do need your help,

and I wish I didn't because I really wanna do things

on my own, but maybe I'm not so great.

That's not true!

I mean, sometimes I don't know who to call either.

Nate.

You are as good as they come.

You are kind and handsome and smart and talented,

and you just have to start seeing that.

Why don't you get out this week?

Go to the park or the movies.

What are you gonna do?

I'll figure it out.

Maybe we could do dinner this weekend,

if you're around, no pressure.

Okay.

I love you, Nate.

I love you too.

Blaine, beloved.

Why don't we go to Coney Island?

We can ride the loop-de-loop, eat some ice cream,

get your portrait painted, by me.

Call me back.

Blaine, did you get my voicemail?

I have trouble with these phones,

and I'm banned from the Apple Store

for staging an interactive dance piece

in response to Enron verdict.

Blaine, I just read my own tarot cards

and it turns out you are receiving my voicemails.

Call me back, I'm pregnant.

Blaine, I'm not pregnant, but I do believe

that you are screening my calls.

Do you know that the Village Voice called me persistent?

Blaine, I'm moving on.

I don't wait for any man longer than 20 minutes.

Unfriend me.

Hello?

Ellen?

Lenora!

Let's go to Coney Island.

Oh, um.

I'll pick you up.

Well, actually--