Sing Street Page #12

CONOR:

I don’t want special treatment. At

all.

BROTHER BAXTER:

You’ve a fine face, I wouldn’t

worry about covering it up with

make up.

He smiles. Conor stands there, trying to work this one out.

BROTHER BAXTER:

You can use me own bathroom there.

If you like.

He gestures a door off his office.

CONOR:

I’m going to go back to class now.

Conor exits. We hold on Brother Baxter.

64.

INT. THE CORRIDOR - MOMENTS LATER

Conor exits the office, but Brother Baxter is hot on his

tail. He grabs Conor by the hair, and drags him down the

corridor. Conor shouts and wriggles, but BB means business.

It’s like a red mist has descended over him. He slaps him a

couple of times across the side of the head. Other kids look

on, clearing the way.

BB kicks in the door to the students’ bathroom, pushing Conor

through in front of him.

INT. THE TOLIETS - CONTINUOUS

Conor falls into the toliets. BB follows, picking him up and

forcing him over to one of the sinks.

CONOR:

You can’t do this!

BROTHER BAXTER:

You wanna bet?

BB turns on the taps, and as the sink fills up, plunges

Conor’s head into the water.

Conor bucks like a drowning animal. Brother Baxter pulls his

head back out. Conor gasps for air, spluttering water.

Brother Baxter slaps a bar of soap into Conor’s face, mushing

it into his face.

BROTHER BAXTER:

(shouting)

We’ll get you clean! Don’t worry!

We’ll clean you up! And get that

shite off ye.

Then down into the water again. Conor splutters. Again, he is

pulled back out, now crying and coughing, his make up mixing

with soap and dripping down his face.

Brother Baxter wipes his hand with a towel, and turns to go,

leaving Conor leaning over the sink shivering.

He exits. We hold on Conor.

INT. ART CLASSROOM - LATER

Conor is back in regular class. He has makeup stains under

his eyes, and his hair is wet. He looks like a drowned rat.

He is shivering, but holding back tears. All eyes are on him.

Some giggling, others shocked. He looks very alone.

65.

EXT. SYNGE STREET SCHOOL - DAY

Students exit the main gate at the end of the day. Conor

pushes his bike out.

To his surprise, Raphina is leaning against the school gates

up ahead.

She is listening to music on massive, 1970s-style headphones

with a curly lead. They are plugged into her battery operated

tape player from home. She’s smoking a cigarette.

She gives him a wave and one of her killer smiles. Just

seeing her lifts him.

RAPHINA:

Hey Cosmo.

CONOR:

Who?

RAPHINA:

That’s what I’m calling you now.

Cosmo. You need a catchy name if

you’re going to be in a band.

CONOR:

Right. What are you doing here?

RAPHINA:

Waiting for you. What happened to

you?

He looks pretty rough.

CONOR:

Oh. Nothing.

(off her tape machine)

Does that work?

RAPHINA:

(shouting)

For about half an hour. Then the

batteries run out. And I have to

rob more. But it means I can take

my tapes anywhere.

CONOR:

Wow. Portable music.

She smiles. Links his arm, and walks off with him.

EXT. THE PARK - LATER - DAY

A small, city centre park. Some kids play on the swings.

Others drink cider and smoke on a bench. Conor and Raphina

enter.

(CONTINUED)

RAPHINA:

I really liked your song. It made

me cry.

CONOR:

Oh, I’m sorry.

RAPHINA:

No no, that’s a good thing. But

write me a happy one some time.

CONOR:

What if I don’t feel happy?

RAPHINA:

What have you got to not feel happy

about? Big house. Family. And we

don’t live in the Lebanon!

He smiles. She has a point.

CONOR:

Who’s the guy, with the car?

RAPHINA:

Evan?

CONOR:

Yeah. Is he your boyfriend?

RAPHINA:

We’re on and off. It’s complicated.

We’re kind of on a break right now.

CONOR:

Yeah. That’s a good idea. Take a

break for a year or so. Get some

perspective.

RAPHINA:

You’re funny. He’s actually a

really nice guy.

CONOR:

Yeah. Sh*t taste in music though.

She smiles.

RAPHINA:

He’s taking me to London. I’m too

young to go on my own.

He’s organized everything. Booked

the tickets, and got us an

apartment and all. We’re going

after I get my portfolio shot. It’s

a really big deal to get your shots

done just right. For modelling.

Your whole career can depend on it.

66.

(CONTINUED)

67.

CONOR:

Yeah. And what’s in it for Evan?

She pauses, falling behind.

RAPHINA:

Are you jealous, Cosmo?

CONOR:

Why would I be jealous?

RAPHINA:

Exactly. Write me a happy song. I

need a laugh.

CONOR:

What if I don’t feel happy?

RAPHINA:

Your problem is that you’re not

happy being sad. That’s what love

is, Cosmo.

(beat)

Happy/Sad.

Cosmo searches her for the meaning of this. She just smiles

back.

She checks her watch.

RAPHINA:

Sh*t, I gotta go. We only have a

half an hour dinner window at my

house.

CONOR:

Oh yeah, so what’s that house like,

where you live?

RAPHINA:

It’s fine. Better than some of the

other places I’ve been.

CONOR:

Cool. So... where are your parents?

RAPHINA:

My da’s brown bread. He got hit by

a car.

CONOR:

Oh my God. Sorry.

RAPHINA:

No, don’t be. He was drunk. He

deserved it. Me ma’s in and out of

hospital.

(CONTINUED)

68.

CONOR:

Why?

RAPHINA:

She’s a nurse.

She laughs. He gets it.

RAPHINA:

No. She’s a manic depressive.

Cosmo is shocked by this. But tries to lighten it.

CONOR:

So, like, “Happy/Sad”?

RAPHINA:

You’re funny. I like that.

She kisses him on either cheek again, and turns to go, but

then turns.

RAPHINA:

Let me know if you need me for

another video before I go.

CONOR:

Okay. When are you going?

RAPHINA:

Soon.

(beat)

You don’t have any problems, Cosmo.

She winks, and sprints off, leaving Cosmo to decode.

INT. BRENDAN’S ROOM - LATER THAT NIGHT

Conor is standing in the doorway of his brother’s room.

Brendan sits on his usual chair.

CONOR:

...what did she mean by that?

BRENDAN:

She means that you’ve got to get to

a place in life where you’re okay

with your sadness. That you’re not

fighting it anymore, but that

you’re almost... happy with it.

It’s monastic. She’s like a monk. I

like this girl.

CONOR:

(Half-getting it)

Right. Happy/sad.

(CONTINUED)

69.

BRENDAN:

So her dad’s dead, and her mum is

mental? And you thought you had

problems?

(beat)

So that’s what the older boyfriend

is about. Daddy issues. I used to

know chicks like her. They can be

tricky. And need a lot of

protecting. Think you’re up for

that, Conor?

CONOR:

I don’t know. She’s not even my

girlfriend.

BRENDAN:

So what’s it all about then?

CONOR:

I think she’s just an amazing human

being. I’ve never seen anything

like her. The way she talks. And

looks. She wears these sunglasses,

and when she takes them off, her

eyes, it’s like the clouds clearing

past the moon. And sometimes, I

just want to cry looking at her.

Brendan pauses, smiling.

Brendan has taken a new album down from his shelf. He slips

out the record, and throws the sleeve to Conor. An 80’s band,

all dressed in black, looking gloomy. Conor is mesmerized by

their look.

Rate this script:3.8 / 4 votes