Magic Love

INT. TONY'S APARTMENT - STUDIO. SLIGHTLY DIRTY. DANCE POSTERS COVER THE WALLS. WITH A HUGE POSTER OF MICHAEL JACKSON. 

James is laying on the couch playing with the cat. Tony is sort of bouncing up and down in the middle of the room.

Angela busts in the door. 

TONY

Angela, girl, why you so late?? The show starts in an hour!! 

ANGELA

Ton, don't even start. Plus you know they'll have some bullshit opening act. 

Angela tosses a bag of drugs at James who is still laying on the couch. 

ANGELA

James! Cheer up! It's your favorite!

James sitting up. Cat still on lap. 

JAMES

It's about fucking time! 40 minutes late! 

ANGELA 

You princess!

TONY

Yeah, suck it up yah lil bitch! 

James starts to smirk. Still petting cat. Looks up quickly.

TONY

(serious)

He loves it when I call him a lil bitch. 

ANGELA

(towards James, laughing)

It's because he is a lil bitch

Angela winks at James. 

JAMES

All right, all right. 

They all start collecting their things. Walking out of the apartment, Angela, smacks James on the butt. 

ANGELA

(quietly)

Lil bitch. 

James turns around and smirks. 

EXT. THE THREE HEAD INTO NYC ON AN EMPTY COMPARTMENT OF THE TRAIN. CAMERA SHOTS OF JAMES, AND TONY TAKING ECSTASY, "ABOUT A GIRL" BY NIRVANA PLAYS.

INT. BAR AT THE VENUE 

JAMES

Okay, vodka for the both of you? 

TONY

Honey, it's a tequila sort of night.

ANGELA

I'm good for now. 

James walks away from the table, and goes to get Tony, and himself a drink. 

TONY

You okay, girl? It's time to get down! You took your share of the E, right?

ANGELA

Oh yeah yeah, just want to wait on the drinks for now

TONY

(reassuringly)

Okay, okay. 

James comes walking back.. (80s electronica starts playing), the show is about to start, and they head to the dance floor. 

Tony starts snapping with his arms in the air, struts to the dance floor.

TONY

YAAAAS!

INT. DANCE FLOOR. PRETTY CROWDED. 

The group Magic Love is up on stage, playing their 80s electronica (yet, "Limousine" by Class Actress plays). Tony, Angela, and James are dancing ridiculously, almost jokingly in slow motion. The neon lights become brighter. The camera shows James, and Tony taking more ecstasy, but not Angela. Angela moves closer to James. Tony starts dancing with a guy, they become close, then kiss long. The camera shifts to Angela, and James looking right into each other, his arms on her hips, and her arms around his neck, dancing closely in sync. Their faces get closer, and they kiss long and passionately, Angela then breaks away and runs quickly towards the bathroom. She then kicks a wallet then finds it on the ground and picks it up. She gets into the bathroom and shuts a stall door behind herself.

INT. DIRTY CLUB BATHROOM. THERE ARE 3 OTHER GIRLS IN THE BATHROOM DOING LINES OF COKE, PUTTING ON MORE MAKEUP, AND SMOKING CIGARETTES. THEY MAKE NO NOTICE OF ANGELA.

Bathroom Girl #1 does line of blow off of sink

BATHROOM GIRL #1

Ey, MirandAAAH you got a ciggeey?

BATHROOM GIRL #2

Girl, yeeAH, I gottA smoke..

Angela sits down on the toilet, opens the wallet, counts 450$ Closes the wallet, then lights, and smokes a cigarette. Starts to slowly cry. 

BATHROOM GIRL #3

Fawk, my hoohaw is on fuckin fiyah, Jimmy was all up in it this mawnin. He gets so frisky in the mawnin. 

Bathroom Girl #3 does a line of blow off of the sink.  

BATHROOM GIRL #2

Jossey, hon, yous lucky thats yah only worray. I be fuckin late nearly a gaddamn week and a haff! 

BATHROOM GIRL #1 

Whaaaaat, Adrainaaaa? The fawk now?

BATHROOM GIRL #2

Shit I dunno, I am scared, buh I know Giovanni is my love, like I wanna murry heem, but he can be such a doofis

BATHROOM GIRL #3

Ey but he so cute! With them arms!

BATHROOM GIRL #1

(laughing)

But he is like half retahded! 

Angela busts out of the bathroom stall, and quickly walks through the dance floor (towards the exit) still smoking her cigarette. James notices, and grabs Tony to follow her. James starts yelling at her, and running towards her. Tony follows behind. Angela gets to the outside of the club to a dark city street. Starts walking down the sidewalk away from the club. 

EXT. DARK NYC STREET. NOT TOO MANY PEOPLE AROUND. 

James runs down Angela, and grabs her by the arm, and Tony is running towards them. 

JAMES

What the hell was that?

ANGELA

          Nothing! Fucking nothing! 

Tony is now catching up, slightly out of breath. Clearly drunk/high.

TONY

Girrrl! Honeeey! Is you having a bad triip? 

ANGELA

I didn't take any!

JAMES

Why? 

Tony lights a cigarette. 

TONY

This shit has got me feeling some sorta way (laughs)

Angela sits down on the curb and puts her head in hands. James, and Tony sit down with her. 

ANGELA 

You guys just go back in and have a good time, I'll stay out here. 

James puts his arm around Angela. 

JAMES 

We're not leaving you out here on the street, the hell? 

TONY

YeeeAH, plus, daddy needs the air.  (waves arms in wafting motion) 

ANGELA

I'm gonna stay the night in the city. 

TONY

Like hell you are girl! Without us?

ANGELA

I have to take care of some things, it's personal, guys. 

JAMES

We're all friends Ang, what is going on? 

ANGELA

We're friends James? Do friends fuck their friends and get their friends pregnant James? You delinquent! 

Angela stands up, and flicks cigarette at James. James jumps up, and backs away. 

JAMES 

You're joking. You're fucking joking Ang, please tell me you're fucking joking! 

TONY

Oh Christ almighty. 

Tony still sitting down, hands on top of his head.

ANGELA

I wasn't going to say anything. I was gonna take care of it, but I couldn't take it any longer!

JAMES

What are we going to do?

ANGELA 

Your ass is gonna do nothing. I found a wallet on the ground inside. I think there was enough in it to cover the costs. 

TONY

Cover the costs of what? 

ANGELA

To get it done. 

TONY 

Oh honey.

JAMES

You sure that's what you want to do? 

ANGELA 

I've never believed in it, but I don't know, I don't fucking know! 

TONY

Why don't we get a hotel for the night in the city? Why don't we treat ourselves? Think about this tomorrow. 

James walks towards Angela arms out.

JAMES 

I don't think that's a bad idea Angela. Think tomorrow when our heads are clear. Whatever you want to do Angela. 

James brings Angela close to him, and hugs her. Angela breaks into tears, and slightly hugs James back. Camera shot moves to a bird's eye view. Cuts to black. The end. 

Sunday (SILENT FILM)

INT. SUBWAY TRAIN 

Ian enters the subway and stands alone. Subway train is somewhat full. 

Ian sits down at a seat near the doors. 

Camera angle is shooting down the aisle of the subway train, behind Ian.

Zoom in slowly over Ian's shoulder.

Ian looks into window and sees himself. Holds look for 15 seconds. 

Camera shot is just the right side of his face. 

Ian looks forward down the aisle and continues to stare intently. 

Ian lets out a sigh, and shakes his head. Slight laugh. 

Ian reaches for his phone and calls, July. Phone rings, and no answer. 

Ian puts his phone in his pocket. Looks at window. 

Close up again at the right side of his face. Slow zoom in on the reflection of himself in the glass. 

Ian pulls out his phone again (camera over his right shoulder), and texts Sara, "I feel sick to my fucking stomach about last night". 

Subway train doors open, and a random man bumps into Ian, phone gets sent flying out of the open doors. 

Ian runs out of the open doors to grab his phone. It gets accidentally kicked by another person. Ian is trying to find it while running through a sea of feet, and legs. 

Ian finds his phone and turns around to get onto the same train, but the doors close and the train goes away. 

Ian tries to call July again, but the call gets dropped half way through the ringing. 

Ian runs up the stairs to the street level. Tries to call again, and it again goes to voice mail. 

INT. SUBWAY TRAIN

July walks onto a train, and sits down at a window seat. 

Camera angle is facing straight at July.

July looks at her phone and sees the 2 missed calls from Ian. Swipes the notification away and looks at a text from Sara saying, "call when you can sis".

A handsome man sits down next to July, and they make eye contact as she looks over at him. 

Camera angle still from the front. The man looks over at July who is looking down at her nails. 

July pulls out her phone again, and texts Sara back, "what's going on? I'm on the train."

July puts her phone into her purse. 

The camera angle shifts to the man's right side and he looks over at July. 

Camera angle changes to back to straight at them both. 

The man leans over slightly and says something to July. 

July turns to the man and nods her head, and smiles. 

They shake hands. 

The man points to a folder July has in her hand. She shrugs and shakes her head. They both laugh. 

The man puts his hands up in the air with a large smile. July puts her hand over her mouth to contain her laughter. 

EXT. CITY STREET. SUMMER NIGHT. 7-8 PM. LIGHT RAIN. 

Ian smoking a cigarette pacing back and forth at the top of the stairs that lead into the subway. 

Camera is on the subway stairs looking up at him.

Camera angle changes to POV of Ian's vision, and attention.

Ian looks up to a building, eyes over a few windows, and then he focuses on one window, staring intently at it for about 12-15 seconds. 

Camera shifts to his left side, full body shot, and he takes a long last drag from his cigarette, and then tosses it on the ground, and puts it out with his shoe. 

He looks at the cigarette butt on the ground for 10 seconds and then reaches for his pocket. 

Ian takes out his phone to a text from July saying, "hey babe, going into the train, can't talk. I'll call when I get to Queen Anne." 

Ian texts Sara, "come meet me, I'm up on the hill, at that bar on minor, the electric". 

Sara responds back, "okay 15 min or so". 

INT. SUBWAY TRAIN

The camera angle is from behind July, and the man. The train stop lights up above them in letters reading, "Approaching Capitol Hill"

July is still sitting with the man that she met. She laughs and puts her hand on his arm, then takes it off slowly but has a somewhat confused look on her face -- almost as if she didn't realize what she was doing. 

The camera angle shifts to directing in front of them again.

The man looks into July's eyes, and she looks back at him and smiles, then looks down at the ground. 

He says something, and then she looks up at him again. There faces get closer together, but then he breaks away, and nods his head at the opening doors. 

They both get up and walk out together.

The camera follows them from behind, through the lobby, and up the stairs to the street level. 

INT. THE ELECTRIC (CAPITOL HILL BAR). AROUND 9:30 PM. MILDLY CROWDED. 

Ian is sitting in the back corner of the bar. It's small, dirty, a stereotypical dive Seattle bar. Riders on the Storm plays in the background softly. 

Ian sips his gin and tonic. 

Camera angle is looking straight at him in his booth alone. 

Ian takes out his phone, and texts July, "babe are you to Queen Anne yet? I really want to talk to you."

Sara walks into the bar, the camera cuts to a frontal view of Sara as she is approaching the booth, and then cuts back to Ian. Ian looks up from his phone to see Sara walking towards him. 

Ian shakes his head, and moves farther into the booth to make room for Sara. 

Sara stops as she is about to get into the booth, and walks over to the bar to order a drink. 

Ian looks at his phone again, and texts July, "is everything okay?"

Ian stares at the sent text for 20 seconds or so and then sends a follow up text, "I love you."

Sara walks over from the bar, and scoots into the booth. She puts her hand on Ian's leg. Ian shoves it off gently, but holds onto her hand for 10 seconds or so. 

Sara smiles cunningly, and takes a sip from her vodka cranberry. 

Sara moves even closer to Ian, but he backs off and looks the other way. 

The camera moves in on them, almost as if its on the middle of the table. It slowly zooms in on Sara's face looking at Ian, then cuts quickly to Ian's face, but he's looking away, then jumps quickly to a shot of them both looking at each other. 

Ian moves in closer to Sara.

Sara moves in closer to Ian. 

The camera zooms out slowly as they kiss each other,the kiss is held for 5 seconds or so, and then Ian grabs the side of Sara's face, and then Ian abruptly breaks away. 

Ian says something to Sara, and Sara backs away from Ian in the booth. She shakes her head, and punches him in the arm. 

The camera angle shifts to Ian's left side with Ian and Sara in the shot. 

Sara takes her drink, and shoves it off the booth table, and it breaks on the ground. Sara starts walking towards the door, and the camera zooms in on her walking away. 

Then it cuts abruptly to Ian with his head in his hands and holds this shot for 20 seconds or so. 

A bartender walks over to Ian and says something, Ian just puts his hands up in the air, and the bartender points to the back of the bar. 

Ian nods acceptably and gets out of the booth and walks to the back of the bar to grab a broom. 

EXT. CITY STREET. 10:05. 

The camera angle is looking straight ahead at July, and the man from the subway. Full body shot. 

July and the man from the subway walk down the sidewalk. She looks up at him and smiles, and he looks at the camera. 

The man then looks at her, then back at the camera and points to a glowing neon sign which reads, "The Electric".

The camera zooms in slowly at July, and she pauses then nods her head, and says something. 

The man grabs the door, and they walk in. 

INT. THE ELECTRIC (CAPITOL HILL BAR) 10:07. PRETTY CROWDED.

Ian is sweeping, and then looks towards the door, and sees July, and the man walk in. 

Ian quickly jumps into the booth, attempting to not be seen.

The camera shifts from Ian's POV from the booth. 

July and the man sit at the bar and continue to talk. The man orders drinks from the bartender. 

The man leans over to July, and she leans into him, and they kiss. 

Camera cuts to Ian's face. His mouth his open with his left hand slightly over it. 

Camera cuts back to the POV of Ian from the booth. Before the bartender can bring the drinks to July, and the man they both get up and leave the bar. 

THE END. 

Three in the morning, down the street from Colonel Fabien

My newfound friend apparently from Jamaica, which also apparently made us America brothers, had thrown off his backpack, and a small French man had whipped off his belt swinging it high above his head towards the 3 AM Paris moon.

The three young women sitting down watched on as if a brawl was soon to unfold. Then shooting eyes at me to keep the peace.

It was madness, certain wild crazed madness.

My Jamaican drinking buddy pulled out of his backpack the last bottle of red, garnishing more than just his dukes.

“FUCK NO!” I had yelled and jumped on his back, holding back his arms.

“Listen big guy, you don’t want to wreck this old fool, because you know when the cops show up who they’ll come for first.”

“He no mahn, fuck em.”

“You really think this bitch is worth it?”

“Maybe no, I don’t know man, this wine – it make me angry. You’re right.”

“I know I’m right motherfucker, now grab your bag and just get out of here before you hurt this son of a bitch.”

"Come sit with us, that was good, you're good." One of the young women said.

She had big green mystic eyes, and messy hair. She handed me some whiskey. 

Everything after that seems even more now truly unreal. Hoping in that cab, when it got to be 5 AM because the Paris skies started pouring rain.

"Come with us."

 Not knowing where the hell I was headed. It was okay though, because it ended up arriving at the Parisian utopia.

Now I just have flash backs, and see things or smell things that remind me of those dream like nights, and days sitting in that apartment, rolling through Hemingway territory all because I broke up a fight, and was supposedly good company.

From violence to wine to bliss, and to the canal cutting through the dark Paris streets.

And then those half French, and half Spanish eyes looking into me every morning, and night. Calling me a stupid American, and lighting up those reds, opening the windows to let the sun wake me up.

5,000 miles away and yet it feels like a different life separate from any reality ever imagined. It’ll never be the same, and it won’t ever be so real, and I’ll never let myself forget.

Golden Hours

The sun and clouds cut colorful bright reveries down on the coastal countryside.

“No God here, babe, this isn’t the Italian Dream.” Verita said.

“Oh yeah, yeah, how about Utopia? Maybe further?”

It seemed as if the hills just kept rolling and colliding over one another, the dropping sun closing in on the far reaching horizon on the cusp of creation and where the land falls into the deep blue.

“You feel that breeze coming around?”

“Mhm, I can almost smell the salt.”

The trees in the Italian hills were plush and perfect from above it would be like a great green carpet tossed over rolling rocks.

“This is where they used to bury their dead, right here in these tombs.”

“Dark and dreary, not a place where I’d like to lay my soul.”

We sat down in the near café watching the heat rise, yet the soft cool breeze rustle the trees. True happiness, true peace, I could feel it everywhere in me.

“What for tomorrow, en la manana?”

“The ocean, the sea, that deep blue out there.” I looked over at Veritas, exhaling a drag, and uncorking the white. As she poured 2 heavy glasses,

“Love.. if this isn’t living, I don’t know a damn thing.”

“I think many would agree.”

The sun dropped, and bottles clanked. The next morning rose, and with it the heat. Veritas and I hopped on the scoot and rod the graceful winding cypress filled hills down to the oceanic beauty. She clutched my waist and leaned in with me on every turn. On one long stretch and I reared my head to the empty heaven sky and bugled nothings up at the sun god, and we reached the beach without a soul around.

“Let’s run down the water’s edge, right down with every vibration.” She proposed.

“Oh hell, sure.” We ran and tossed in the water, then set up the big beach umbrella and hid from the sun. I pulled out the gin, limes, and tonic, and started brewing.

“Oh hey love, I have some fun little things I picked from Jupiter’s garden.” She hands me 2 pieces of angelic looking remedies, and I threw them back. “Supposedly you’ll feel God, the holy trinity, and maybe some of those good old boys of the past.” Veritas said.

“If you say so.”

Modern love I thought, what a ride, for reality or for not, it’s hard to tell some of these days. I sipped my gin and listened to the rhythm of the waves, and crashing, and receding, and the dripping of life. It was a different time right then and there, rolling down the edges of the red, white, and green, creating our own stories, and possible truths, not caring about the whole damn world, but maybe just reason, and the answer to the moving of time.

“Yeah.. I see that grin, how is it?” Verita asked.

“Wild, but I think I’m here.”

“The Italian Dream, I’m pretty sure we found it.” She said.

“Yeah, yeah maybe.”

“You see him?”

“I think I feel him, like a quacking out there in the blue, I don’t know, is this the point? The reason and all?”

“I think, not everyone sees the big man, some see other things and feel other dreams.” She said.

“What? The ole boys? Them toga-ed cloud dwellers?”

“Whatever fits with you, whatever you want to see, right?”

“I don’t know Verita, what about you?”

“I think it’s all bullshit, it’s just the high.” Verita said with a smile and then with no warning to any heaven she faded into that cool zephyr flowing off of the sea.

The gin still poured, the palliatives worked, and it was all good and fine because it I knew it was real at one point, and never actually too far from the truth. I took a deep breath and looked at the unveiled sky, and then that’s when the strange music started to play, but I swear I could’ve died in those days without a worry in the world.

The Louvre

I wonder what Hemingway really thought, what he didn’t think to say – if that feast really never moved. Whenever I go to a large tourist city I feel obligated to see every sight, walk every bridge, all that shit. Is that what it’s all about? Snapping a photograph at every turn, thinking about posting it online before taking a next breath. I don’t know, I suppose it’s all relativity.

“Did you see that?”

“Did you do that?”

“No, but I met people, I ate lamb for dinner at 10 while the sun went down in the heart of a buzzing Parisian intersection with a bottle of red lust to end it, staring into the eyes of a woman I met hours before.”

I wrote a letter to my little brother, on the postcard was a sort of pin up girl that had her emerald dress falling off, holding her tits, looking back with a smile. I think of  Cormac who is away from Seattle for the summer, riding horses, and working on a ranch in the steep wild mountains of Wyoming, and receiving that postcard that I drunkenly wrote up one night. On the postcard I wrote about sitting in a café, buying another flight to another foreign land. I told him the people were funny and the most of all that the women were beautiful. I hope it painted a picture of it all, the typical romantic bullshit so the so-called dreamy cigarette butt town lives on in someone’s mind, and he’ll someday seek to lose himself in the gentle rhythms of some Parisian women’s dancing reverie shadowed eyes, not thinking of the next moment but only the happening of now.