IT'S A DATE
- Mar 25, 2016
- 2 min read
***The following was written as a 15 minute response to the prompt: "Dramatize a recent conversation you've had or overheard as a scene in a screenplay."***
INT - CAR, NIGHT. PARKED ON THE SIDE OF THE STREET, MOONLIGHT IS SHINING ON A FIGURE IN THE PASSENGER'S SEAT. SHE IS VERY STILL. HER HEAD IS DOWN. CONTRARY TO HER, ANOTHER FIGURE IN THE DRIVER'S SEAT IS SHADED, BUT ANXIOUS.
DRIVER: I'm sorry. (.) Really. The last thing I wanted was to make you uncomfortable. She just invited me out and we've been friends for years, so I thought it would be fine.
PASSENGER: It feels like a date.
DRIVER: It's not.
PASSENGER (accusatory): But it feels like one. What the hell does she want with you, anyway? You haven't talked to her in months.
DRIVER (defensive): So?
PASSENGER (provoked): So it's weird. Why hit you up now? I don't care how long you've been friends, seeing your exes alone is weird.
DRIVER (matter-of-factly): So you're threatened.
PAUSE
PASSENGER: I don't know what I am.
THE DRIVER SCOFFS, AMMUSED.
DRIVER: Kind of hypocritical, isn't it?
A QUESTION APPEARS ON THE PASSENGER'S FACE. MOONLIGHT SHIFTS, SHADING THE PASSENGER AND ILLUMINATING THE DRIVER. THE DRIVER IS REVEALED TO BE ANOTHER WOMAN.
DRIVER: You know, asking me not to see someone because you're afraid I'm going to be cheating or something?
PASSENGER (with a sigh): Stop it.
DRIVER: No, really, though, how do you think I felt? (.) How do you think I feel? When you 'go home' for the weekend, how can I trust you're there at all? What am I supposed to do-
PASSENGER: No, I-
DRIVER (continuing over her): -go blind again? Yeah, I try not to bring things up or drag stuff out because it hurts me, too, but honestly, you don't have much ground to stand on, babe.
PASSENGER IS WRINGING HER HANDS, ANXIOUS MOVEMENTS. SHE IS LOOKING DOWN, BUT ONLY IN HOPES OF AVOIDING EYE CONTACT.
PASSENGER (quietly): I know that.
DRIVER: So, yeah. I'm gonna meet up with her. I'm gonna o and catch up and not cheat on you. Not out of oblication, out of respect. Revenge is a waste. But don't think for a minute that I don't know how you feel. I've been in that chair, too.
DRIVER REACHES FOR PASSENGER'S HAND. SHE GRABS IT, PULLS IT TO HER LIPS AND LIGHTLY KISSES THE FINGERS. A QUICK SQUEEZE. TWO MEEK SMILES. THEY DRIVE OFF.
FADE TO BLACK
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