Death in Love Page #4

it's a crap shoot out there.

"You just didn't have the stuff.

So I'm actually

protecting the operation.

And you know, if you get enough

girls working around here,

this place might be,

like, a real agency.

Some speech.

If that's

what you're looking for,

why didn't you join a real

agency in the first place?

'Cause I don't want to start

in some horrible mail room.

And gradually slave my way up.

So that by the time

I'm old and bored,

I might have a stake

in some stale company.

Did you express

these sentiments to...

I heard you were gonna teach

one of these acting classes

yourself.

You mind if I drop in,

pick up a few pointers?

Suit yourself.

Okay.

I heard your spiel out there,

by the way,

and if anything's unnecessarily

cruel, that was it.

Excuse me?

That whole line

about keeping expectations low,

keeping things realistic,

that's horrible.

I mean, if I promise a girl

the moon,

then at least for a while,

she's high

on the possibility she may

actually get it some day.

And if she feels

f***ed over afterwards,

you know, she can tell herself

it was temporary madness,

that she allowed

her basest desires

to get hold of her for a moment

and now she's back on track.

But you're hitting her

right where she lives.

That is the most honest, decent,

practical part of her soul.

And when she realizes

she's been f***ed over there,

in the part of herself

that she trusted in the most,

what are you

leaving her with, then?

When she can't

trust anything anymore,

what does she have left?

# #

mom?

Mom.

Don't touch it, mom!

Look, look, look,

just forget about it.

Just move it

back it into the room.

Just forget it.

Forget what?

You're not gonna move it now?

I don't know.

I don't know.

I mean, I... I can't deal

with them moving the piano.

I just can't deal with them...

And you'll go stay at your

brother's place without it?

Come, let them do their work.

Here. Here.

It's too soon.

It's too soon.

- What's the problem?

- Too soon?

Too soon for what?

What are you talking about?

What's going on?

He doesn't want to let them

move the piano.

What?

Guys, could you just... I'm sorry.

Could you just wait downstairs

for five minutes?

A few minutes?

I'll be right down.

There you are.

Thanks.

You know the piano

wasn't always here, right?

You know it had to be

moved in here somehow.

It's fine.

But why do they

have to move it now?

This has nothing to do

with a piano.

It's me.

He won't leave me.

He won't leave me alone!

Why won't you leave me alone?

Don't touch me!

Don't...

Don't touch me!

Don't touch me.

Leave me alone!

I'm not going to feed you!

Do you hear me?

I am not going to feed you.

Crash!

Leave me alone!

All of you.

Leave me alone.

Hello?

I'm sorry, but now

isn't such a good time to...

I see.

It's for you.

Yes.

Hold on a moment.

She's coming.

Yep, I understand.

She'll...

She'll be right here.

She's just coming now.

All right.

Here she is.

Hello?

What happened?

An old friend

of your mother's died.

He was found gassed

in his apartment.

I'm getting the movers

back up here.

# #

hello.

Hello.

Click!

Click!

Hello.

Hello.

Hello?

Hello.

Click!

Oh.

I can't.

I can't!

It's been too long.

It hurts too much...

Stop.

Stop.

Stop right there.

You're doing too much.

It's boring.

You're boring.

The more you do, the less room

you give your audience to feel.

It might not be

what you want them to feel,

but at least they'll feel

what they think

they should be feeling,

which is better than having them

feel the wrong thing.

Never show what you feel.

Hide it.

Keep it to yourself.

Keep your secrets.

If you have a secret,

everyone wants to know

what it is.

If you have no secrets,

I don't care how smart you are,

how interesting you are,

you're boring.

'Cause you've got

nothing to show us

that we don't already know.

You keep a monster

in the closet,

it's scary.

Open the closet,

I don't care how terrible

that monster is,

you look at it long enough,

you grow numb to the horror.

And it works both ways.

You put a poor man in a palace,

he'll sing like a bird.

But after two weeks,

he starts bitching

about how long it takes to walk

from the bedroom to the kitchen

for a snack.

We despise what we know,

because once we know it,

it becomes part of who we are,

and we all despise ourselves.

It's what we don't know...

The mystery that holds within it

the possibility

for transcendence.

Never mind

that we never transcend;

that every mystery,

once revealed,

leads to bitter disappointment.

When you walk into that room,

whatever part you're playing,

be it a queen or a clown,

what you're selling

is the mystery,

because you're boring.

You know it, I know it,

the people in the room know it,

,

and if I'm sitting in that room

what I want you to do

is to fool me,

even if it's just for a moment

while you're spouting

some idiotic line

from some idiotic script

that I've heard

1,000 times before,

over and over,

since the dawn

of human comprehension.

You're nothing.

You've got nothing to offer.

Even though

in our heart of hearts,

we all know it,

we still want to fooled,

because we are terrified

of our own emptiness.

And it's up to you

to take advantage of that fear;

to use it for your own purpose.

Give us nothing,

and we'll always want you.

Give me nothing.

I can't.

I just can't.

It's been too long.

I can't do it ever again.

That's what's

so deceptive about...

That nothing thing

was a neat trick.

I'm gonna use it myself

if I ever give one of those.

Neat trick?

Yeah,

it's like a poker face, right?

You keep your cards

close to your vest,

you've got nothing.

People think you got something.

It's not a f***ing trick.

Okay, what is it?

It's the truth.

Maybe if you've got

a nothing hand.

You know, I don't...

I don't totally understand you.

I mean, you're up there, you've

got all that gripping oratory,

and you're standing

in front of a bunch

of bamboozled girls

off the street and housewives

who never considered

taking an acting class before

in their lives.

And you're dropping

existential philosophy on them,

and they're just sitting there

hoping for some stupid

modeling job

they're never even gonna get

an audition for, much less book.

At least they get something

out of it, right?

No. Mean, you said it

yourself;

you're giving them nothing,

nothing they can use, anyways.

You know

what I don't understand?

Why everyone

under the age of 30

feels the need to lecture me

about myself.

Is it fear?

Is looking at me

like gazing into the abyss?

Are you talking

just to fill up your ears

so you don't

have to hear the truth?

Who made you the one

who decides what the truth is?

Now, listen.

That's the second time

that you've accused me

of giving you

a speech or a lecture

for saying a few words back

after you talk for so long, man,

it makes my ears bleed.

And maybe one of us is talking

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