The Adderall Diaries Page #3

imagining

what might be in there?

Imagining.

Man:

And who asked you to draw it?

Cori:

The psychologist.

Man:
Now, did you remember

the part about your dad

carrying the bag before

the psychologist talked to you?

I'm not sure.

Do you have trouble with keeping

things straight sometimes, Cori?

Do you get a little, you know,

confused, sometimes?

I don't want to do this anymore.

Can I stop now?

Okay. Thank you, pal.

Did Cori always call his parents

by their first names?

No, I don't think so, actually.

It seemed at some of the earlier custody

trial statements, he would say "my mom",

but I don't know when he started

calling Hans "Hans".

Do you think we could get

the family court documents?

Some of them.

Anything public record.

Can I see it?

All right. So this is

the first one

where Cori is calling

his mother Nina,

and Hans was already

called Hans.

Hmmm.

This was three months

before she disappeared.

Mm-hmm.

Hey, can you get documents

from other states,

not just New York?

Uh, yeah. Wha...

What are you thinking?

Illinois.

Yeah, sure. Why?

'Cause I grew up in Chicago.

What are you looking for?

How about the hearing

where my father was convicted

of neglect and abuse

and I was made

a ward of the state.

What are you gonna do with it?

I don't know. All my book

deals went to sh*t,

and my editor says

they're gonna stay that way

until I come up with some proof

that all that stuff

actually happened.

I have to publish it

in an important publication.

Like say the times?

Stephen:

I wouldn't ask you to do that.

I kind of just did,

but that's okay.

I'd love to help.

Does this look like

what you're looking for?

Stephen:

Yeah.

Now the only problem is

I can't write it.

Of course you can.

Write whatever you want.

Stephen:
No, I just can't write.

I mean...

It just happens.

Last time it lasted six months.

Lana:

And then what?

Then I started taking Adderall.

Okay. It's printing.

What if we published

this as is? Hmmm?

Print it full page,

complete with your

handwritten annotations.

That's something

people would notice,

and you wouldn't have to

write anything.

I think that you're brilliant.

I know.

There's a term

for what you are right now.

C*nt struck.

- F*** you.

- C*nt struck.

That's not a word.

Yeah, that is.

It's an old word,

old-timey word.

It's like cuntwinked.

Or the more politically

correct version, hoodwinked.

Come on, you don't know this?

No.

Huh?

What's the male version?

- Cock hobbled.

- Shut the f*** up!

Come on. You gonna match with

me and you don't know that?

Hey. I put this on

so I'd remember

to give it to you.

Remember this?

Yeah.

Yeah. I was going through

this old box

and thought

I'd give it back to you.

- Yeah?

- Yeah.

You sure you're ready to part

ways with that?

Thought it would make you happy.

- Yeah, it did.

- You could give it to Jax.

It belonged to my grandmother.

Stephen:

Yeah, I remember.

You gave it to me

the night after I overdosed.

Remember, you said

it would protect me?

I sure don't.

It meant a lot to me

at the time.

Yeah? That's interesting.

'Cause I didn't give it to you,

Stephen.

- What?

- It got stolen

from my jacket at a party.

What are you talking about? I was

in the hospital at Northwestern.

You snuck in to visit me.

No, doesn't matter.

Forget it.

It matters to me.

Look, you were pissed off at me

'cause I made that shitty joke

about your mom

in the wheelchair

peein' herself, yeah?

- Yeah, I remember.

- Yeah, and the chain broke,

and I had it in my jacket pocket

and then it went missin'

at the party.

This is not how I remember it.

I believe that's not

how you remember,

because you have a convenient

way of rememberin' things.

- What? We're done?

- Yeah, we're done.

Roger.

Lana:
Why don't you just tell me

what you're looking for?

What you like?

Because I don't want to

scare you away.

Do I seem like

somebody scared to you?

Stephen:

No.

You're the last person

I want to show my flaws to.

You're showing them to somebody.

I know you're not getting

these marks on your own.

No, I'm not.

I just don't want to wonder

who else you're with.

Give me a chance.

Tie this wrist.

Now tie it to the bed.

Now tie this one.

Tie it really tight.

Like that?

Yeah.

Take one nail.

Run it down.

Slower.

Slow.

Harder.

Harder.

Like that?

Stephen:

Yeah.

Kiss me.

Well, fine,

but I like the Hans idea.

Jen:
Look, I think they have

the right to voice a concern.

This doesn't even

resemble the book

they're paying you to write.

Okay, no, fine.

I did that,

but it's a better idea.

Yeah, I'm not really sure

that I can sell this, Steve.

Look, Norman mailer,

Truman Capote...

They were both

at the top of their games

and then they got

massive writer's block, right?

- And then?

- They fell into addiction.

Exactly. And what happens?

A murder trial.

Truman Capote writes his masterpiece,

changes American literature.

Norman mailer wins

the freakin' Pulitzer prize.

Jen:
Oh, so Hans Reiser is

gonna win you a Pulitzer now?

No, I'm just... He's interesting,

that's all. It's what I want to write.

Fine. As long as you're

actually writing something.

I don't know.

I guess we'll figure it out.

You're gonna have to

get me some pages

if you want me to pitch

this change, actual pages.

Um, cool.

You got it.

Yes, I promise.

I promise. I promise.

Okay.

Okay. Bye.

I made breakfast.

I see that.

Eggs Benedict.

What's wrong?

Nothing.

It's just um...

This was taped to my front door.

Motherf***er!

You stay away from her.

If you ever hurt them,

I swear to god

I'm gonna f***ing kill you.

Oh, come on.

You're so dramatic!

- Come here.

- No.

Oh! I see how it is.

Tough guy.

All right,

you handsome motherf***er.

At least come on in.

Come on!

You want a 7-up?

Hey, let's get a steak, huh?

My treat.

Where's Cynthia?

She's in Florida.

You know how much I can't stand

the f***in' silverbacks.

So you're just

spending her money alone?

Yeah, she sends her love

to you, too.

Cynthia, you know,

she had me clean out the attic.

I was visiting

your step-sister.

She's going to Yale now,

did you know that?

I thought I might stop by here

and see if you wanted

any of this.

You came all this way

to give me a box?

I came to see my son.

Why? You obviously hate me.

Oh, hey, now come on,

don't say that.

Why do you say that?

'Cause you humiliated me!

Congratulations,

I hope you're happy.

I'm not happy.

That didn't make me happy.

Then why would you do that?

You told everyone I was dead.

So did you!

Yeah, well, I mean, there's

storytellers in this family.

I... I've read everything

you've ever written.

I've come all the way

across the country

to this fancy party where

they're celebrating my son,

the big-shot literary genius

because I'm proud of you

and I'm sittin' there,

listenin' to these stories,

and every time,

the monster father

dies a horrible death

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