Scene 1
A trendy modern office belonging to WINSTON. WINSTON is mid-30s, recently made editor of a successful digital culture magazine, based in London. As CURTAIN rises, the office is empty. WINSTON flies through the door, slinging his coat down and talking on the telephone.
Winston: No, no, no. Of course I'm sorry. This was the best we could do at short notice. (Pause). Just tell her to put makeup on one of them. No, it doesn't matter which one. (Pause). Ok, not the black one. (He hangs up). Jesus Christ.
He sits down at his desk and loads up his computer. The phone rings again.
Yes? No, not organic. No, that was last week. (Pause). Not breathing. (Pause). Do something on safewords. (Pause). Why not?
Puts the phone down. Turns to computer. The phone rings again.
Charlie T? Here to see me? No, he doesn't have an appointment. Yes, I know who he is. (Pause). Send him up. Yes, now.
He puts the phone down. Takes a deep breath. His demeanor softens. The door knocks.
Come in.
CHARLIE enters. He is late 20s, flamboyantly dressed. He is visibly nervous, and has a manic intensity to the way he moves and speaks.
Charlie?
Charlie: Hey bro.
Winston: My god. Come in. Sit down! What are you doing here?
Charlie: Surprise.
Winston: You got past security?
Charlie: I told them I had an appointment. It wasn't hard. I made a fuss. One of the girls recognised me.
Winston: A pity. Please, have a seat. Can I get you a drink?
Charlie: Tea please. It wouldn't be hard to break in here, you know. If you ever write something controversial you're in trouble.
Winston: Oh there's not much chance of that. Milk, sugar?
Charlie: Milk, please. Thanks.
Winston: There you go. Forgive me if I seem a little flustered.
Charlie: Perhaps I chose the wrong moment.
Winston: It's been a while.
Charlie: I wanted to surprise you.
He awkwardly produces a small wrapped box and places it on the desk.
Happy birthday.
Winston: Charlie.
Charlie: Please. You're my brother. And I've been gone a long time.
Winston: Thank you. I appreciate it. I really do.
He takes it awkwardly and places it on his desk.
Charlie: Nice office.
Winston: It does the job.
Charlie: Lots of books. Have you read them all?
Winston: Depends who's asking.
Charlie: It says on the website you're editor now.
Winston: Don’t rub it in.
Charlie: There's nothing rainbow colored about you.
Winston: I'm in a minority called "talented".
Charlie: Are they paying you properly?
Winston: Well enough for anywhere except London.
Charlie: Why don't you move?
Winston: I like being a big fish in a small pond. There are some very serious people out there in the world. I have worked very hard to avoid having to deal with them.
Charlie: Don't you get bored?
Winston: I have my distractions. (pause) Mum told me that you were out - (pause) - and that you'd been in touch with them. I didn't think you'd be back in London so soon.
Charlie: It's big enough here that I don't run into people. I'm trying to be a small fish in a big pond.
Winston: You may have already blown your cover.
Charlie: This is different. This is family.
WINSTON'S phone rings again.
Winston: Yes? Winston Thomas. Yes, from the magazine. One of the editors. No, that's not my area. No, I'm sorry, I can't help with that. You need to talk to one of the other editors. Not me. No. No I can't give you their numbers. Sorry, company policy. How did you get my number? (pause). Why didn't you say? Of course I remember. Yes of course. Absolutely. In Ibiza. Mexico. Of course. Next week? Perfect. See you then.
He puts the phone down.
Cunt. Where were we? Weren't you seeing someone over in Bristol? A girl or a boy?
Charlie: I was never quite sure. I'm done with that. I want to get married and have a dog. Don't laugh. Honestly, I do.
Winston: Domestic bliss.
Charlie: I've done much worse. Now tell me about you! How's life? Business? Katherine?
Winston: We're in a new place. South of the river.
Charlie: Traitor.
Winston: Closer to her office.
Charlie: I hope she's taking care of you.
Winston: When there's time. People are incredibly needy. She's part time pro bono.
Charlie: It’s amazing what she does.
Winston: From a distance. You don't have to talk to people. You just write songs about them.
Charlie: I certainly don't know why anybody would become a lawyer.
Winston: Something to do with society. She's working on a new program for rich people. Helping them to understand the crimes committed by their ancestors. Good for the imperial guilt complex. Clears the conscience. Therapists love it. Pays well too.
Charlie: You still love her?
Winston: Of course.
Charlie: Does she want a family?
Winston: I don't.
Charlie: What if she does. She could leave you.
Winston: Not over something like that.
Charlie: Don't underestimate her.
Winston: I couldn’t if I tried.
Charlie: She's a woman.
Winston: She's busy.
The phone rings again.
Jesus Christ.
He answers.
Hello, love. Yes, of course. Thank you. You'll never believe who is here. No, I'll tell you later. We were just talking about you. Yes, nicely. No, it was incredibly degrading. Goodbye.
He puts the phone down.
Winston: Now tell me your plans. I'm the editor of a pretentious magazine, it's my birthday and I demand to be entertained. What's next for my rockstar brother?
Charlie: Another drink.
Winston: Tea? Coffee?
They are silent while the kettle boils. WINSTON looks at the bottle on his desk several times, trying not to be noticed.
There you are.
Charlie: Ta. It's alright, you know.
Winston: Of course it is. I didn't think - I just thought maybe it was - anyway. It's there, and it's not a problem. Now tell me.
Charlie: I don't know. I have some money. I might do another band. Maybe a solo album. I should probably become a spiritual teacher. It's what everyone else is doing. Music is over. It's all healing now. I certainly can't go back to my old life. And I don't have anyone outside of that world. Some people suggest I should focus on sobriety. Stay clean, clear up, get back on my feet properly. I just never know where my feet are. Here, I suppose. If I'm still welcome.
Winston: I'm glad you came.
Charlie: I'm glad too.
Winston: Shall we have dinner later?
Charlie: I saw a nice Spoons on the way here.
Winston: Come on. We can do better than that.
Charlie: I like Spoons.
Winston: We can stop there for a quick one. I'm not eating there. We'll go somewhere nice. It's my birthday. I'll pay.
Charlie: Nonsense. What about Kat? Isn't she taking you out?
Winston: Case to finish. You know what they're like.
Charlie: Lawyers.
Winston: People who need lawyers. Especially the ones who can't afford them.
The door knocks.
Aha. Important meeting. Come in!
A young woman, SELENE, enters. Similar age to Charlie. Well dressed, alluring, and quietly confident in her capacity to dominate a room. She and CHARLIE are visibly surprised to see one another. WINSTON does not notice.
Winston: Selene. Hi, just a moment. This is my little brother, Charlie. He came by to wish me happy birthday.
Selene: Oh, hi. Charlie.
Charlie: (Stiffly) Hi.
(Awkward silence)
It's nice to see you.
Charlie: It is.
Winston: Perhaps you recognize him from his music career. He's much less interesting in person, I assure you.
Charlie: We've actually met before.
Winston: You really picked your day. Selene is one of my best writers. One of the few who deserves to be paid for it.
Charlie: How strange.
Selene: Indeed. It's nice to see you.
Charlie: Likewise. I'd better leave you to it. I'll find a cafe or a library. Call me when you're done.
Winston: But why don't you stay for a few minutes? Since we all know each other. We're in no rush, are we?
Selene: Not particularly. Happy birthday, by the way.
(She hands him a wrapped bottle. He takes it awkwardly, not knowing where to place it. Eventually he settles it besides the other bottle.)
Winston: I'm amassing quite the cellar. Tea? Coffee?
Selene looks at Charlie. Silence.
Charlie: Honestly. I should go. You have work to do. Nice to see you.
He goes to leave.
Selene: You too.
He rushes out.
Winston: Oh dear. He's a bit fried.
Selene: (reclining on a chair) I heard. The band fell apart. He's your brother?
Winston: Unfortunate, really, I know. Now he's trying to sober up. No cliches there. Did you know him well?
Selene: I didn't come here to talk about Charlie.
Winston: No, of course not. How is your piece coming along?
Selene: Fuck you. I had to book an appointment with your secretary to get hold of you. It's humiliating.
Winston: I told you this has to stop.
Selene: And what about me? I'm supposed to go on kissing your ass and looking pretty?
Winston: You look wonderful.
Selene: Of course I do. What's your fucking problem?
Winston: I can't be involved with you.
Selene: Says who?
Winston: Says the people upstairs. Says the rats in the walls. The fucking eyes and ears of this place. They're vultures, vapid shits bereft of originality and desperate for a scandal to break. It can't be us.
Selene: I don’t care.
Winston: And that's why you're brilliant. I don't even know why you're here.
Selene: You started this.
Winston: You knew exactly what you were doing.
Selene: What exactly was I doing?
Winston: Exploiting a mid-life crisis.
Selene: You felt something.
Winston: Of course I did. I feel lots of things. We're in the business of making people feel things they don't care about. You're very good at it.
Selene: Fuck you.
Winston: I'm here to give you knowledge. Confidence. Discernment. A sense for the noble art of journalism. Not sordid little stories for them to blackmail me with.
Selene: Blackmail? Interesting. Where shall we start?
She stands up and walks to the desk.
Here?
She walks to the windowsill, arching her back.
Or here?
She points at the carpet.
Or here?
Winston: Stop it.
Selene: You asked me how my piece is going. I'm here to inform you that I think I have a new angle.
Winston: Which is what?
Selene: The things men say when they're drowning.
Winston: I'm married.
Selene: And you hate her.
Winston: And I'm still married to her.
Selene: And you still hate her. On top of that, you said you'd leave her. For me, if I'm not mistaken. "One of the most talented and fearless minds of her generation."
Winston: Don't push it.
Selene: Oh but it's so much fun.
Winston: It was fun.
Selene: Suit yourself. Insist on being a mediocre man with a mediocre wife in a dry and decaying and definitely, fundamentally mediocre profession. You're already past it, Winston. Old and irrelevant. You've made it this far with one-liners and sheer calculated viciousness. But there's not a shred of brilliance left in you or this building. I have more important things to think about.
Winston: I was hoping we'd get to that. Listen. I have a job for you.
Selene: Save it for someone more promising. Thank you for your time this afternoon. I hope you have a pleasant evening with your brother. I'll call you when I need you. Goodbye.
She walks out. Winston sits down, sighs, then picks up his phone. He makes a call.
Winston: Tell her I don't fucking care where she came from. (pause) No. Can I make that any more clear? (pause) Christ. Obviously she's there to play a part. Isn't that in her job description? (pause). Then tell her we'll get someone else to do it. (pause). Go and drag a bloody girl off the street if you have to. (long pause). Good. I knew she'd understand. (Hangs up). What are these people for?!