Grand Piano Page #2

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Jesus, look at Patrick!

Jesus, Patrick, you're terrifying.

He still scares me.

Did you hear about the

whole fortune thing?

I swear to God he thought

he was Charles Foster Kane.

Do you really think he'd want me

playing his precious piano again?

The great screw-up?

What?

Patrick. He'd be embarrassed.

- Tom...

- Come on, I always flubbed notes.

Tom Selznick, the new Rachmaninoff...

if only he didn't choke.

Tommy, listen to me.

- Patrick would be proud of you.

- No.

I'm gonna screw up, Norman.

I know it.

You can't play charts like these without

fudging a note here and there. So what?

If you're going to start playing carefully,

I'll just go get the wine and cheese.

Do you want to be the thousandth

guy to give me a respectable Bach?

Because you can keep that.

I don't need respectable.

If you're going to play music this

dense, you're going to hit a wrong note.

And they won't know.

They never do.

And you know what? I've never

seen so many people this excited.

They've waited for

this for five years.

I could have waited another five.

Really?

I have never in my life met another

human being so perfectly shaped

for one purpose.

Do what you do.

And try and have some fun.

And remember...

It's just music.

Ladies and gentlemen,

the main entrance doors

are about to be closed.

Ashley! Wayne!

Hey, you guys!

I thought I'd lost you.

I'm sorry, honey. We were at

the bar. It was Happy Hour.

I called you six times.

- Oh my God. Wayne, where is my phone?

- Yeah, it's right here.

- We should get going.

- Yeah, 6 missed calls.

Yeah? Yeah, you think?

Pay more attention. Okay, honey?

We really should get in there.

Emma, calm down.

Just can just slip in.

What a guy doesn't

know doesn't hurt him.

Here are your tickets. I'll meet

you guys right after, okay?

Wait. Are we not sitting with you?

Oh, God... No.

They really need me to sit

in this one particular place.

But I got you really good seats,

they're in the orchestra.

So we're not sitting with you?

But I'm going to meet you right after.

Ashley, I'm so glad you could come.

It's our pleasure. I mean, you're the

closest Wayne gets to a celebrity.

Let's go.

Okay. Enjoy the show.

I'll see you guys after.

Well, that was embarrassing.

Come on, doofus.

I don't know what all the rushing

is about. Don't they have an opening act?

Ladies and gentlemen,

the show will start

in five minutes.

Please, silence your phones.

Mission accomplished.

I knew it! Look, there are

plenty of seats up there.

Hey, boys and girls, come on!

It's five minutes!

Get your weapons ready.

Let's go! Yeah, yeah, come on!

Lynn, sorry!

Can you hear me?

Okay, yeah...

One second...

And... we're in.

Ladies and gentlemen,

introducing tonight's conductor,

Mr. Norman Reisinger.

Sir.

- Your score.

- What?

You left it in the dressing room.

Thanks. You just saved my life.

Anything you need.

Congratulations.

The whole place is packed.

Thought you would

like to hear that.

Ladies and gentlemen...

Sh*t.

Tom Selznick.

A**holes.

I think he's looking at you.

No, I have to go.

What?

No!

Get back on-stage.

Who is this?

I'm Patrick Godureaux.

Got your attention? Good.

Now get back on stage,

your audience is getting antsy.

- You think I don't know what you're up to?

- What am I up to?

- Did Norman put you up to this?

- Norman? I don't follow.

Look, I get it. It's funny.

The stage-fright guy. You send him messages

because you think he's wetting his pants.

- Are you?

- No.

Would you like me to change that?

- Listen to me!

- Are you sure this is a prank?

Let's have a bet. I'll bet it's

not a prank. You bet it is.

If I win, I get to spray Emma Selznick's

brains all over her Gucci purse.

If you win, you get to tell me off.

Come on, this'll be a fun bet.

Let's do it.

- I'm calling the cops.

- My friend is outside the theater.

He sees so much as one cop

car pull into the lot

and the ushers will have a corpse

to clean up in box seat five.

Now head to the left side

of the stage. Now.

In front of you.

The top step.

I see it.

Look closely.

Keep looking.

That's the entry wound

of a Rochester .47

automatic with scope

laser aim and silencer.

The most precise weapon on

the market. And the quietest.

Now you know the meaning

of "stage-fright".

Get on-stage or it's Emma's head.

Does this mean we have

an understanding? Say it.

Quietly. They'll just think

you're talking to yourself.

Another 'tee-ta-taa',

or whatever the hell you do.

Okay. Here are the rules. I can

see and hear everything you do.

Call for help and I will hear it.

Leave the stage and I will see it.

Get a cop or a guard involved,

I will know it.

If you do any of these things,

your wife will die.

If you play a wrong note, you will no longer

be of any use to me and you will die.

That's two people I can kill

when and if I feel like it.

So I'm hoping that's double the

chance you'll do what I say.

Do you see me?

- How are you talking to me?

- Look at the keys.

Your entrance is in two bars.

Come in late and it'll be the

last downbeat you ever play.

- Now you can talk.

- Where are you?

In a solo box seat. I have privacy

here. A great view, too.

- How are you talking to me?

- I'm high up.

Not only can I see everything you do,

I can see everything Emma does.

Right now she's yawning.

I think she's bored.

This isn't really her

type of music, is it?

- Does that upset you?

- What do you want from me?

I want you to keep your voice down.

We wouldn't want the audience

getting the wrong idea.

But something tells me

this time you won't.

- I'll give you all the money I have.

- I don't want your money.

Then what?

I want you to play the most

flawless concert of your life.

Consider me the voice in your head telling

you that good is not good enough tonight.

Okay. Fine. We can do this.

But you don't need Emma.

There, it's done.

- What's done?

- What you asked.

You made a good point, she was

muddling things, so I shot her.

Not sure if you believe me or

you saw how quiet I can be.

And your lovely wife

could've just slumped over

and fallen asleep,

she was so goddamned bored.

Isn't it amazing what you can get

away with in a crowded theater

when all eyes are on the stage?

Sit down or I really

will shoot her.

Come on.

Isn't this what you wanted?

You said yourself she was a muddler.

Muddling your whole life, it seems.

- You don't know anything.

- But I do, Tom.

She might get more magazine covers than

you, but you are a person of note.

She won't be in the

history books. You will.

Because you're a person of note.

I know everything

I need to know about you.

I know where you leave your phone.

I know you mutter when you play.

I know you have the fastest, most

agile fingers of any pianist alive.

And you know what's funny? She'd throw

it all away, the fame and the money,

for just a tenth of your talent.

Please, let her go.

I'll do what you want.

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