Vagrant Story - Go Wyverns

Chapter Four - The Hail Mary Play

SYDNEY: (voice shaking) ... so... that's the story. All of it.

(Silence. ASHLEY has his head down, staring resolutely at his hands, knotted in his lap. SYDNEY looks away, gazing out at nothing, sniffling just a bit. HARDIN looks like someone just punched him in the face. CALLO looks... like nothing at all. Finally:)

CALLO: (quietly) ... I really can't say I'm that surprised... well, at least, not about Sydney.

(ASHLEY shifts nervously. SYDNEY sniffles again, still staring out at the trees. After a moment, CALLO reaches out and takes SYDNEY's hand, startling him.)

CALLO: Sydney... Ash...

(CALLO stops there, not entirely sure what to say next. SYDNEY scrubs his sleeve across his eyes. ASHLEY still isn't looking at anybody.)

HARDIN: ... so what do you need from us?

SYDNEY: ... help.

CALLO: John?

HARDIN: Callo, it's obvious that they wouldn't have told us unless they had to, so they need something from us.

(CALLO stares at HARDIN, with just the faintest bit of disapproval.)

HARDIN: Not that I can blame you two for doing that. I'm... I'm not trying to judge or anything...

ASHLEY: (very quietly) But it's hard not to.

(That's the first time ASHLEY has spoken all evening. Everyone falls silent. HARDIN runs his fingers through his hair.)

HARDIN: (quietly) Yeah, I guess so. But I'm trying not to. I really am. That's the best I can do.

ASHLEY: Yeah. I appreciate that.

SYDNEY: John's right, though. We do need your help.

CALLO: So tell us.

(And SYDNEY does, explaining the bare bones of the plan to HARDIN and CALLO. It doesn't take long. ASHLEY tucks his chin back down, staring at his hands, rubbing his thumb across his scabbed knuckles. Once SYDNEY is finished, the reaction is immediate.)

HARDIN: You two are out of your fucking minds!

CALLO: John!

HARDIN: I'm sorry, Callo, but they are! Romeo's fucking well dangerous, and Ash's basically volunteering to get himself killed to prove it!

CALLO: John, please, calm down... but he's right. That's really not a good idea...

SYDNEY: We know. Believe me. God, the last thing I want to do is see Ash get hurt. But it was his idea, and he's right... if we can pull this off, Romeo'll be toast.

ASHLEY: (roughly) It's not even about getting my journal back, really. If we can do this, maybe he won't tell everybody...

CALLO: So what if he tells people? Who would believe him? And there are worse things, really...

SYDNEY: (extremely bitter) Name one.

(Silence.)

HARDIN: It won't work anyway. The president's key set doesn't include the A/V room, just the announcer's booth and the entrances.

SYDNEY: ... shit. Who would have the A/V room keys? Who's A/V Squad this year?

HARDIN: ... Duane and Grissom.

SYDNEY: I bet they'd help.

ASHLEY: Fuck, I don't want to have to tell them too.

CALLO: ... let me talk to them.

HARDIN: Callo?

(For once in her life, CALLO looks neither sweet nor nice, having discarded her mask. Instead, her face is utterly calm, and a bitter manipulative intelligence shines from her eyes. HARDIN stares at her for a moment, startled, then looks away.)

CALLO: ... they... like me. Let me handle them. I'll get the keys.

HARDIN: ... you're all insane. You are. Callo, this is dangerous!

CALLO: (with a very rare flash of anger) If you have a better plan, John, feel free to share it!

HARDIN: ...

CALLO: (repenting) I'm sorry, John. But... we have to help. I can't just sit by and let Romeo stomp all over them.

HARDIN: ...

CALLO: John...

HARDIN: (quietly) All right. But I still think this is insane.

SYDNEY: All you have to do is lend us your keys, John.

HARDIN: No... no, I can't do that. I have to come with you, in case the security guards show up.

SYDNEY: ... right, then.

CALLO: I'll talk to Duane and Grissom tomorrow.

HARDIN: (hopelessly, yet with dignity) Is there no way I can talk you out of this? No way at all?

ASHLEY: ... I wish. But it's got to be done. I'm willing to do this for the sake of stopping Romeo.

HARDIN: ... but Romeo...

ASHLEY: (irritably) I know, I know, he's psycho. You think I want to be his punching bag? But I can take a few minutes of punishment, even from him! And that's all we need!

HARDIN: Then how do you STOP him?

ASHLEY: ... I run like a coward.

HARDIN: ... fair enough.

(Another silence falls. Then CALLO startles pretty much everyone by scooting over and hugging SYDNEY fiercely.)

CALLO: ... I'm sorry.

SYDNEY: ... so am I. Thanks, Callo...

(HARDIN sighs, tiredly. So does ASHLEY.)

ASHLEY: ... it's late. I'm sorry we dragged you out here so late...

CALLO: It's okay. But I really should get home...

ASHLEY: ... yeah. I don't think I'm going to be in school tomorrow. I'd just do something stupid.

CALLO: ... I understand.

(One by one, all four of them get down from the boulder. Once they're all on the ground, CALLO gives ASHLEY a fierce hug as well.)

CALLO: Don't get hurt too badly.

ASHLEY: ... I'll try.

(Quiet, each one deep in thought, the four of them tramp over the bridge and up to HARDIN's house. HARDIN waves and goes inside, and the others walk around the side of the house to where they've parked. They don't say much of importance, just bid each other farewell; then CALLO gets in her Bug and heads off. SYDNEY and ASHLEY get onto SYDNEY's bike, and SYDNEY revs the engine.)

ASHLEY: (very quietly) Can we... can we go back to...?

SYDNEY: I think I was going to, even if you didn't say that.

ASHLEY: ... good...

(ASHLEY wraps his arms around SYDNEY's waist and lets his head drop onto SYDNEY's shoulder. SYDNEY reaches up and touches the top of ASHLEY's head reassuringly; then he revs the bike again and drives off. After a moment, we see a faint twitch in one of the front windows, like someone just let the curtain fall back into place.)

(SCENE: That hidden outcropping on HARDIN's property, just above the treeline. Instead of a convertible, this time it's a small motorbike that emerges out above the cliff; ASHLEY and SYDNEY dismount and sit down on the ledge, staring out at the rustling ocean of leaves before them. After a long, silent moment, ASHLEY exhales shakily and pushes his hand back through his hair; after a moment, his bangs flop back down into place. Without a word, SYDNEY snuggles up against ASHLEY's side, and ASHLEY puts his arm around SYDNEY.)

SYDNEY: I told you they'd help.

ASHLEY: Yeah, but... god, that was hard. Did you see how John was looking at you, right at first?

SYDNEY: ... yeah. But I figured it would take him a bit. John's... not usually confronted with cruel truths.

(ASHLEY falls silent for a moment, and they sit there, gazing out at the trees.)

ASHLEY: ... I can't believe you don't hate me.

SYDNEY: But I don't. How could I hate you?

ASHLEY: ... how hard could it be?

SYDNEY: (passionately) Ash, quit it. I love you, and that's final, okay?

(ASHLEY slumps forward, covering his face with his hand. SYDNEY looks alarmed, as ASHLEY laughs, once, a small, broken sound.)

ASHLEY: ... how was I ever a good enough person to deserve this from you?

SYDNEY: (quietly) Shut up.

ASHLEY: ... yessir.

SYDNEY: That's my line, you know...

(SYDNEY gently pulls ASHLEY's hand away from his face.)

SYDNEY: ... look at me?

(After a moment, ASHLEY raises his head and meets SYDNEY's eyes. ASHLEY looks pretty ragged; even lit only by moonlight his eyes are reddened, and there's a tenseness to his jaw.)

SYDNEY: Ash...

(ASHLEY drops his head again, staring down into his lap. Gently, SYDNEY slips his fingers under ASHLEY's chin and raises his head, even though ASHLEY flinches away from meeting his gaze.)

SYDNEY: Ash, don't.

(SYDNEY leans forward and touches his lips lightly to ASHLEY's. ASHLEY shudders, closing his eyes.)

ASHLEY: I... I just...

SYDNEY: I know. I know. Shhh.

(SYDNEY kisses ASHLEY again, slightly more firmly.)

SYDNEY: ... if I say something, will you listen? I mean, really listen?

ASHLEY: ... sure.

(SYDNEY curls up against ASHLEY's chest. ASHLEY leans back against one of the trees that surround this tiny clearing, and closes his eyes.)

SYDNEY: ... I think I understand why you get so angry when I put myself down... because every time you apologize I can't decide whether to hit you or hug you. I don't want anybody to put you down, not even you. I'd say that I forgive you, but there's nothing to forgive... I just want you to forgive yourself...

ASHLEY: ... sometimes it seems like we've done nothing but hurt ourselves and each other...

SYDNEY: ... and in between all that there have been some of the most wonderful moments of my life, Ash. I can't blame you for wanting to write them down, because if I had any gift with words at all I'd do the same...

ASHLEY: ... you don't call this a gift with words, Sydney? Not at all?

SYDNEY: Not really, but I'm doing my best...

ASHLEY: It's enough.

(SYDNEY raises himself up, and gazes at ASHLEY, who is finally able to meet his gaze.)

SYDNEY: (quietly, but distinctly) I love you, Ashley Riot, and I hope that you love me too... but even if you don't, I want you to know that I'll do -anything- I can to help you, without a second thought. There is no blame here. We're beyond blame now. There's only you and me...

ASHLEY: (echoing) You and me...

SYDNEY: ... you and me. The rest of the world can go to hell for holding this against us, for using this to try and hurt us. Right now, right here, right at this moment, it's just you and me...

ASHLEY: Sydney...

SYDNEY: ... enough blame. Enough recriminations. Damn everyone else, they're a world away. Here I am, right here, and I love you. What else is there, right now? Really?

(Silence. SYDNEY looks a little startled at his own vehemence. ASHLEY is staring at SYDNEY, his mouth open, just a little.)

SYDNEY: ... bloody hell, that was deep.

ASHLEY: ... yeah...

(SYDNEY settles back down against ASHLEY's chest. ASHLEY automatically puts his arms around SYDNEY, but he still looks like he's been slapped.)

ASHLEY: ... god. Why am I pretending to be the writer in this relationship? Tell me again, I forgot...

SYDNEY: Shush. It was a once-in-a-lifetime speech.

ASHLEY: ... I hope not.

SYDNEY: Hm?

ASHLEY: I hope that you remember that speech forever, and whenever I get depressed you'll say it again, over and over, until I remember that you love me, and that I love you... and when I'm in my thirties and famous, you'll let me steal that speech and put it in a play, so that you can stand on stage and tell me you love me in front of the entire world... oh god, I'm being disgusting and sappy and mushy and you can tell me to stop at any point...

SYDNEY: ... no. I don't think I will... please continue...

ASHLEY: ... I hate being sappy.

SYDNEY: But you do it so very well... please, mush onwards... I'm begging you...

(ASHLEY closes his eyes, a tiny self-deprecating smile curling on the corner of his lips. Then the smile disappears as he speaks.)

ASHLEY: ... we'll have blazing fights in Europe and even brighter reunions in New York... we'll throw china at each other and then cry... we'll tell the world to go to hell and they will... when I'm fifty, someone who's interviewing me will ask why I've still got that hideous tattered zebra skin rug, and I'll tell him... and then when we're old and I die, you can put the words 'SYDNEY LOVED HIM ONCE' on my gravestone, and it'll be the best epitaph I can think of...

SYDNEY: ... just once?

ASHLEY: No, over and over, and constantly... but I don't think I'll ever love you more than I do right at this very second...

(ASHLEY falls silent, and so does SYDNEY. ASHLEY closes his eyes and swallows, but the painful lump in his throat just won't go away. SYDNEY, being more honest about the whole thing, is just flat-out crying. Eventually:)

SYDNEY: (a bit choked) ... so we're going to steal my mother's rug?

ASHLEY: And her car...

SYDNEY: Oh, and the car...

(Silence.)

SYDNEY: ... I think your speech beats mine all to fuck, Ash...

ASHLEY: Well, I hope so, I AM the writer here...

SYDNEY: Heh... are you just going to sit there, or are you going to kiss me?

ASHLEY: Let's find out...

(ASHLEY leans down towards SYDNEY, SYDNEY rises up towards ASHLEY, and a heavy cloud rolls across the moon, blanketing the area in darkness. SYDNEY and ASHLEY's figures are lost in the gloom. We can't see a thing, but their voices come floating out of the darkness to us...)

SYDNEY: Tell me you love me, Ash...

ASHLEY: I love you, Sydney.

SYDNEY: I love you, Ash.

(And then there is silence, broken only by the rustling of the trees in the wind.)

(SCENE: A large, nondescript apartment complex, some time early Tuesday evening. A small red Bug pulls into the parking lot here, and CALLO gets out, her face still and set. She crosses to a certain door and pauses there, for just a moment; then her face clears as if by magic and she smiles, looking like the familiar CALLO we all know, albeit wearing jeans and a soft blue pullover instead of her dressier school clothes. Without further ado, she raises her hand and knocks on the door. After a moment, GRISSOM answers the door, and completely fails to say hello; GRISSOM just stares at CALLO, astonished beyond words.)

CALLO: Hi, Gris. May I come in?

(GRISSOM continues to stare for a moment, but then finally remembers that he's maybe supposed to say something here.)

GRISSOM: (startlingly deep voice) Oh. Uh. Sure, come on in...

(CALLO smiles at GRISSOM, a smile which nearly undoes him, and walks into a small, rather anonymous, but extremely clean living room. She takes a seat on the couch, calmly; after a frozen moment, GRISSOM moves over and sits on the other end of the couch, about as far away from CALLO as he can get. DUANE appears at the door to the living room.)

DUANE: Gris? Who was...

(DUANE spots CALLO and his sentence immediately gets caught in his throat. For a moment it's not really certain whether DUANE will stay or bolt. But CALLO turns around and smiles radiantly at DUANE, and he's lost. He stumbles into the room and sits down in the overstuffed armchair next to GRISSOM's end of the couch, staring at CALLO not unlike a rabbit caught in the headlights.)

CALLO: I'm glad you're both here, because I need to talk to you both... unfortunately, I need a favor, and you two are the only ones who can help me.

(The monologue that follows is one of the more chillingly calculated things you've ever seen. DUANE and GRISSOM continue to stare owl-eyed at CALLO as she gives them a brief explanation, conveniently leaving out any mention of ASHLEY and SYDNEY's true relationship. The explanation is studded with loaded phrases; CALLO makes sure to mention that they're the only ones who can help her at least twice more, and occasionally refers to the fact that she'll be very, very grateful for their help. It's almost possible to -see- CALLO pushing their buttons with her helpless-damsel routine.)

CALLO: (quietly) I know I'm asking a lot, and I'm sorry... but I'd be so very grateful if you could help us...

(DUANE's hand automatically flies to his pocket, searching for his keys, but GRISSOM's next sentence stops him.)

GRISSOM: Callo, I... I don't think we can help you. That's... that's some really bad stuff... and I feel sorry for your, your friends, but... if we help you do this, and you get caught, Duane and I could be... suspended, or worse...

CALLO: ... you're right, Gris. All I can say is that, if I AM caught, I'll tell them that I stole your keys. You can even report them missing tomorrow afternoon, if you want.

(GRISSOM goggles at CALLO, completely taken aback. The thought of CALLO stealing anything apparently never crossed his mind before.)

CALLO: Gris, Duane, please. Even if you won't do it for me and my friends, do it because it'll get Romeo in trouble like never before, maybe get him expelled... and all you have to do is lend me your keys for a couple of days.

(GRISSOM exhales loudly and drops his eyes, staring at his hands, knotted in his lap. Something wild and angry lights in DUANE's eyes, old hurts coming back to haunt him for just a moment...  then the light dies out, leaving only his usual hopeless whipped-puppy expression. DUANE squeezes his eyes shut, heaving a small sigh.)

GRISSOM: How do we know we can trust you?

CALLO: ... I don't know that there's any way I can make you trust me, Gris. All I can do is beg for your help and hope.

(GRISSOM opens his mouth to protest... and a keyring flies through the air towards CALLO, who catches it deftly, closing her fingers protectively around the keys. GRISSOM turns to stare at his brother, astonished.)

CALLO: Thank you, Duane... I'm very grateful. I'll give these back to you on Thursday.

DUANE: You, um, you're welcome, C-Callo... just be, be careful...

CALLO: I will. Thank you both for listening to me... you're very sweet...

(DUANE and GRISSOM have never thought of themselves as 'sweet' before, obviously. Goggle-eyed, GRISSOM sits on the couch, still looking startled and just a bit afraid; amazingly, DUANE  collects himself enough to walk CALLO to the door.)

CALLO: Thank you again, Duane.

(Before anyone can react, CALLO stands on tiptoe and kisses DUANE on the cheek. DUANE turns brilliant red; CALLO waves and slips out the front door. DUANE shuts the front door very gently, carefully engaging all the locks; then he bonelessly collapses against the door and slides to the ground, poleaxed.)

DUANE: (breathlessly) Oh my god.

(SCENE: Lea Monde Stadium, Wednesday night, about eleven-thirty pm. The stadium and its parking lot are very dark. One by one, we see four individual figures slip into the parking lot, a minute or two apart; after a moment, the four figures meet each other at the tiny parking kiosk in the shadow of the bleachers.)

ASHLEY: (very quietly) I see Romeo's already here...

(The small chain-link gate that they went through on Saturday has been casually ripped open and tossed aside. All four of them turn to stare at the remains of the gate for a moment, grimly.)

CALLO: God.

HARDIN: ...

SYDNEY: ... remember... Callo, you go to the A/V room and wait... John and I will go up to the announcer's booth and turn on the power to the A/V equipment. Don't turn on the room lights, they'll show on the field. Once the power comes on, get the video camera and the parabolic mike trained on Romeo, and just... tape everything that happens.

CALLO: Got it.

SYDNEY: John and I will stay up in the announcer's booth... it's high up, with a lot of windows, so we can see if anyone's coming. If we see anyone snooping, we'll hit the stadium lights, and that'll be your cue to get away, Ash. Stadium lights coming on means that we abort everything and get the hell out.

ASHLEY: (grimly) Right.

(ASHLEY flexes his hands once, unconsciously. He's got his knuckles taped like a boxer's, and his leather jacket on, zipped up about halfway.)

ASHLEY: And listen to me... I don't care WHAT happens out there, you three stay OUT of sight. Especially you, Callo. It's bad enough that I've dragged you all into this, I don't want you to take a beating too. Just... leave Romeo to me, okay?

(SYDNEY nods, grimly. CALLO stares at ASHLEY for a moment, worried, then nods, a bit more hesitantly.)

ASHLEY: I MEAN it. I don't want you running out to help me and drawing Romeo's attention. He's got to think I'm alone.

HARDIN: (speaking for the first time) I wish to hell I could think of a better plan.

SYDNEY: So do I, but... it's too late. Ash, you stay out here for twenty minutes, give us time to get everything set up and running. Don't come in until almost midnight.

ASHLEY: Right. Go.

(And without further ado, they do, although SYDNEY glances back at ASHLEY once, trying to say everything he can with his eyes before he goes. ASHLEY meets SYDNEY's gaze calmly, touching one fingertip lightly to his lips and then pointing that finger at SYDNEY. HARDIN leads them to a tiny, hidden door under the stadium walls, marked 'RESTRICTED ACCESS', and unlocks it with a key from his own keyring. Once inside the door, CALLO squeezes SYDNEY's hand once, and they split up; CALLO heads downwards, and SYDNEY and HARDIN head upwards.)

(SCENE: A large room, crowded full of audiovisual equipment, situated about halfway underground. The top half of the entire west wall is a huge one-way mirror, affording a beautiful view of the entire football field. We hear a faint chattering of keys in the door, and after a moment, CALLO slips into the room, carefully closing and locking the door behind her. She leans against the door for just a moment, breathing heavily with nerves; then she slips DUANE's keyring into the front pocket of her jeans and picks her way through the darkened room. She quickly locates a huge video camera and drags the tripod to a convenient spot; then, popping open a large padded case, she pulls out a strange large device, looking like a cross between a satellite dish and a gun, with a microphone at the center of the dish. After fumbling about for a moment, she manages to get the parabolic mike plugged into the video camera, and she puts on the headset; then she looks out onto the football field for the first time.)

CALLO: Oh god.

(ROMEO is indeed here, at one end of the field, and he's lit a bonfire in the endzone. The orange flames play over ROMEO as he paces back and forth, every muscle tense with rage and anticipation; even from here it's obvious that ROMEO is gritting his teeth and muttering to himself. His hands are tightly clenched at his sides, and his knuckles are also taped.)

CALLO: ... oh Ash... hurry, Sydney. Hurry.

(SCENE: A long, darkened hallway, somewhere in the bowels of the stadium. On the wall we can barely see the painted legend ANNOUNCER'S BOOTH over an arrow, pointing right. SYDNEY stalks down this hallway quickly but quietly, like a ninja, even down to the black clothing; HARDIN follows him, but he's lagging behind, and the expression on his face is very hard to read.)

SYDNEY: (impatiently) John, hurry up...

HARDIN: I... I can't do this, Sydney.

(SYDNEY stops dead and whirls around, staring at HARDIN incredulously.)

SYDNEY: What? John, we... we can't stop now! If we don't go through with this, Ash is going to take a terrible beating for no reason... we HAVE to do this!

HARDIN: Sydney, look at what we're doing! We're breaking into the stadium in the dead of night when it's already been vandalized... if we get caught, we're going to get expelled! Or arrested! 

SYDNEY: So we won't GET caught, John!

HARDIN: How can you possibly know that? Romeo's an ass, I agree, but... this is too much, Sydney. This is foolish. This is DANGEROUS. Let me call the police, they'll arrest Romeo for breaking and entering and vandalism, and no one has to get hurt...

SYDNEY: John, we can't! If we don't get that notebook back and find a REAL way to shut Romeo up, he'll destroy Ash and I permanently at school. Ash and I will both get beaten up every day for the rest of the year, just as badly or worse than Ash is going to get beaten tonight... just... come on.

HARDIN: No. No, Sydney, I... I can't. I won't. Let's just go get Callo and Ash and go...

(HARDIN turns around, preparing to head back down the hallway. From behind him:)

SYDNEY: (desperately) Please, John. We have to... 

HARDIN: We don't have to, Sydney. I like Ash, he's a nice guy, but I... I'm not willing to risk this kind of trouble for him. There are just too many things that can go wrong!

SYDNEY: (final, desperate thrust) Then... do it... just do it for me, okay?

HARDIN: ... what?

(Before HARDIN can turn around completely, the small black figure catapults into him, knocking him against the wall. HARDIN's obviously larger and stronger than SYDNEY, but he's also slower. SYDNEY throws his entire weight against HARDIN's chest; HARDIN isn't quite pinned, but he's too startled and confused to fight SYDNEY.)

SYDNEY: (desperately, but quietly, with the faintest undertone of threat) I know you want me, John... I've known for years, ever since that party, when Romeo locked us in the closet together in the seventh grade and I made you kiss me... I swear, I've never done anything about it, but I should have... god, I should have...

HARDIN (completely aghast) Sydney?! What the fuck... let me go!

SYDNEY: No. No, I won't.

HARDIN: (wildly) You're insane! Get... get off me!

SYDNEY: (with just a hint of a growl) Make me.

(The seduction that follows is brutal and cruel, as much unlike SYDNEY's careful courting of ASHLEY as anything could possibly be. SYDNEY throws himself against HARDIN with all his strength, pinning the larger boy to the wall, and his hands fly up, yanking HARDIN's head down. SYDNEY crushes his lips to HARDIN's, forcing his tongue into HARDIN's mouth before HARDIN can move, or protest, or say anything. HARDIN's eyes squeeze shut, and his hands ball into fists by his sides, but he doesn't strike SYDNEY; he just makes a single, strangled, despairing sound deep in his throat. SYDNEY keeps the kiss going, minute after minute, desperately raping HARDIN's mouth with his tongue; after a while, HARDIN makes another sound, a cross between a whimper and a groan, and he seizes SYDNEY and pulls SYDNEY to him. One shaking hand grabs SYDNEY's hair roughly, and the other hand cups around SYDNEY's ass, fingers digging in viciously. Finally, finally, SYDNEY ends the kiss, and stares up at HARDIN, eyes glittering.)

SYDNEY: (roughly) I swear I'll do anything you want, John... anything... I'll do anything, just... help me. Help Ash.

(HARDIN still has his eyes squeezed shut, and he's shaking visibly. SYDNEY stares at HARDIN for a moment, measuringly; then he attacks HARDIN's lips again, equally roughly. This time, HARDIN responds to the kiss, with an angry fervor that startles him, if not SYDNEY. Finally this kiss breaks as well, both boys panting for breath.)

SYDNEY: Anything... John... anything at all...

(To punctuate that, SYDNEY grinds his hips against HARDIN's crotch, hard. HARDIN moans, brokenly, clutching SYDNEY to himself and shaking with anger and lust, every shred of dignity gone; then he lets go and digs out his keys with shaking hands. Carefully, trembling, he selects a single key and hands the entire ring to SYDNEY, selected key on top.)

HARDIN: (gasping) This one... opens the announcer's booth... go on... go on without me, I... I need to find the restroom... I'll, I'll be up in a minute...

SYDNEY: (quietly) Thank you, John.

(SYDNEY kisses HARDIN once more, very very lightly, then races away towards the announcer's booth. HARDIN remains leaning against the wall for another moment, limp and broken, gasping for breath. After a couple of minutes, his hands fly up to his face in a reflexive gesture of revulsion; scrubbing at his eyes, HARDIN stumbles off, in a different direction.)

(SCENE: Inside the announcer's booth. We hear the chattering of keys in the lock, then SYDNEY throws the door open wide and races inside. His eyes are wide and wild, for about five different reasons.)

SYDNEY: A/V... where's the A/V... fuck, I hope I'm not too late...

(SYDNEY searches, in barely controlled hysteria. More by luck than anything else, he spots a large switchplate on one wall, containing about twenty different power switches... one of them is labeled A/V. SYDNEY slaps his open palm against the switch, turning it on.)

(SCENE: Inside the A/V room. CALLO is here, hypnotized, watching ROMEO pace back and forth. Suddenly, the faint hum of power startles her; all over the room, tiny LEDs flicker on, red and amber and green, lighting CALLO like a lunatic Christmas tree.)

CALLO: Yes...

(CALLO's finger flicks out and hits a switch on the camera. Suddenly, through her headphones, she can hear the crackling of the flames and ROMEO's harsh breathing, as clearly as if she was right there; inside the camera, videotape begins to turn, imprinting itself with ROMEO's pacing and the dance of the flames.)

(SCENE: A small, completely anonymous men's restroom, almost completely dark. Only the faintest light seeps in, from a tiny frosted-glass window set high in one wall; we can hear someone breathing heavily here. After a few minutes, the breathing calms somewhat, and HARDIN stumbles out into the dirty pale light, where we can see him. Crossing to the sink, he turns on the faucet with shaking fingers and splashes cold water on his face, over and over, soaking his shirt and not caring.)

HARDIN: (small whimper) God. God.

(HARDIN looks up, and his eyes are caught by his reflection in the mirror. He looks awful, haggard and pale, with red-rimmed eyes, but he can't stop staring at himself. A thousand questions flicker across his face, and he watches every single one come and go, finding answers and hating them all. After about five minutes of this, he slowly reaches up and touches the mirror, tracing the outline of his own jaw with his fingertip unconsciously.)

HARDIN: ... so I... I might be... or I really am... after all... oh god.

(HARDIN slowly crumples to the floor, hiding his face in his hands. His body is racked by deep, uncontrollable sobs.)

(SCENE: Inside the announcer's booth. SYDNEY is here, standing at the master control panel, playing nervously with HARDIN's keys and staring out at the bonfire, as hypnotized as CALLO. ROMEO is so tiny from up here, yet SYDNEY can't stop staring at him; SYDNEY's teeth are chattering with rage and nerves. He can't stand still; he worries the keys back and forth, back and forth, fidgeting.)

FOOTBALL PLAYER: (from the open door) Keeping watch for your boyfriend, faggot?

(SYDNEY shrieks in surprise, whirling to face the door; then he lunges towards the opposite wall. The football player dashes forward and grabs SYDNEY before SYDNEY can reach the LIGHTS switch, although his finger trembles just an inch or two from the switch. SYDNEY screams in anger and fights with all his might, straining both to get away and to hit the LIGHTS switch that would abort the entire plan... but he's no match for the burly football player. An open hand sweeps through the air and cracks against SYDNEY's cheek, stunning him and causing his glasses to go flying across the room; then the football player tosses SYDNEY over his shoulder and carries him off, pinning SYDNEY's wrists casually with one hand.)

(SCENE: By the bonfire. ROMEO is here, but he's no longer pacing; he's staring at the fire and flexing his hands idly. The flickering light demonizes his features into a caricature of menace, but the menace is very, very real.)

ASHLEY: (grimly, from the other side of the bonfire) I'm here, Guildenstern.

(ROMEO's head whips up to stare at ASHLEY, and a truly ugly grin spreads across his face. His hands snap back into fists, every tendon in the backs of his hands standing out in sharp relief.)

ROMEO: (quietly, with intense venom) Asshole AND a faggot. I should have known...

ASHLEY: That's right. Why don't you call me a few more names? Just give me back my journal, fuckhead.

(ROMEO pulls a small, battered notebook from inside his jacket and holds it up.)

ROMEO: You want this, faggot? Is this what you want?

(ASHLEY's eyes go hard and angry at the sight of the notebook, so obviously his.)

ASHLEY: Give. Me. My. Journal. Asshole.

ROMEO: You want it? Go get it.

(And ROMEO casually chucks the notebook into the bonfire. ASHLEY snarls in rage and lunges for it... just as two football players explode from the shadows and grab ASHLEY, pinning his arms. ASHLEY fights viciously for a moment, completely silent, but it's two against one; after a moment ASHLEY is pinned, one football player holding each of his arms in a vicious grip. ASHLEY isn't really hurt, but he's a bit scraped up.)

ASHLEY: (spitting the words) You... you fucking COWARD! Are you so fucking afraid of me that you need your friends to hold me down?

ROMEO: (almost absently) Shut the fuck up, faggot.

(The notebook glows brightly in the bonfire, quickly turning to ash before ASHLEY's eyes. ASHLEY snarls in rage and loss, throwing himself against the grip of his captors, but he just can't quite break free. Suddenly, ASHLEY's head jerks up. Somewhere behind ROMEO, in the shadows, someone is... clapping? And clapping ironically, at that. Only one person could manage to force that much irony into such a simple sound.)

ROSENCRANTZ: (emerging into the firelight behind ROMEO, still applauding) Bravo. Bravo! Well played, gentles!

ASHLEY: ... Rosey. YOU told Romeo about my journal.

ROSENCRANTZ: (singsong) That I did! It was... only fitting, I suppose, dear miss Ashley... one really should be careful about whom one angers, now shouldn't one?

ASHLEY: (eyes glittering) You absolute fuckhead. You BASTARD.

FOOTBALL PLAYER: (voice from the dark) You were right, Rome, he brought his little boyfriend with him!

(And the football player emerges into the light, pushing SYDNEY in front of him. SYDNEY's arm is twisted up behind his back, and his face is pinched and white with pain; an expression of absolute horror flashes across ASHLEY's face, and he redoubles his efforts to break free, to no avail. All three of the football players are grinning, and ROMEO's face is absolutely beatific with triumph.)

CALLO: (in the A/V room, her face a mask of horror) Oh god, Sydney...

ROMEO: Ha. Call ME a coward, and you couldn't come alone either...

(The football player shoves SYDNEY, hard, directly at ROMEO. ROMEO catches SYDNEY easily by one arm and whips him around, yanking SYDNEY's arm up viciously behind his back. SYDNEY's mouth drops open, but only the slightest squeak of pain emerges; ASHLEY's face contorts in rage.)

(SCENE: In the announcer's booth. HARDIN enters cautiously through the open door. His eyes are red and the collar of his shirt is wet; his face is set, a small muscle jumping in his jaw.)

HARDIN: (quietly) Sydney? Where...

(Two things catch HARDIN's eye almost at once. The first thing is his keyring, a small messy heap of keys laying in the center of the floor; the second thing is SYDNEY's glasses, one lens shattered, about two feet away from the keys. HARDIN's eyes immediately fly to the booth's window, attracted to the light of the bonfire, just as SYDNEY is marched out into the light. HARDIN's eyes take it all in immediately: ASHLEY and SYDNEY being restrained by football players, ROSENCRANTZ standing behind ROMEO...)

HARDIN: Oh, motherFUCK...

(Scooping the keys and glasses up off the floor with one hand, HARDIN races from the room at a dead run, yanking a cell phone from his back pocket with the other hand.)

(SCENE: Beside the bonfire. SYDNEY's eyes are squeezed shut, but silent tears of pain are forcing their way out from under his eyelids anyway; ASHLEY is continuously throwing himself against the arms of his captors, desperate to break free. ROMEO grins at ASHLEY, a grin tinged with mania.)

ROMEO: Missing your little boyfriend, Ash?

ASHLEY: Romeo, let him go! I swear to fucking god, if you hurt him, I'll KILL you...

ROMEO: (very, very quietly) Oh, I don't think you will, faggot. I don't think you will.

(ROMEO pulls SYDNEY's arm up just a tiny bit further. SYDNEY bites his lower lip, hard, and a tiny squeak is torn from his throat. ASHLEY roars.)

ROMEO: (low) I fucking well hate you two. Pulling your stupid shit, laughing at me... LAUGHING! Kissing my GIRLFRIEND, putting your little faggot mouth all over her hand... you're not laughing NOW, are you? ARE YOU?

(The last two words are an almost inarticulate roar. On the last word, ROMEO rips SYDNEY's arm upwards, as hard as he can, and the night is filled with the sharp report of SYDNEY's upper arm snapping like a twig. SYDNEY screams, a high ear-shattering sound of pure pain; ASHLEY screams too, in absolute fury, actually managing to drag his two burly captors forward a few steps in his frenzy. All of a sudden, none of the other football players are grinning any more, and ROSENCRANTZ goes a little white himself. Still grinning that vicious, feral grin, ROMEO shoves SYDNEY away. SYDNEY goes tumbling bonelessly down the field, in too much pain even to scream every time his broken arm hits the ground, until he comes to rest in a tiny, huddled pile at the edge of the firelight.)

ROSENCRANTZ: That... that's not part of our deal, Romeo! Fuck, I said to leave Sydney alone!

ROMEO: (extremely quietly) Oh. Yes. Our deal.

(And ROMEO whips around, his enormous fist cracking into ROSENCRANTZ's jaw, shattering the jawbone like glass. ROSENCRANTZ collapses in pain, unable to even scream, although his eyes are huge and white and startled in the firelight.)

ROMEO: Don't. You. Ever. Touch. Me. Again. You. FUCKING. FAGGOT.

(With every snarled word, ROMEO's boot slams into ROSENCRANTZ's ribs, hard enough to make ROSENCRANTZ's body jump off the ground a few inches. We can clearly hear ribs cracking with every kick. On the final word -- 'faggot' -- ROMEO stomps on ROSENCRANTZ's right hand as hard as he can, shattering every single bone. ROSENCRANTZ makes a horrible, bloody, strangled sound in the back of his throat, his enormous and terrified eyes managing to find ASHLEY before ROSENCRANTZ mercifully passes out. ROMEO's grin is completely insane as he turns back to ASHLEY, who is white and limp with the sheer enormity of what he can expect to happen to him momentarily. The other football players are in shock, although they continue to hold on to ASHLEY, more out of habit than anything else.)

(SCENE: In the A/V room. CALLO is here, absolutely and completely frozen. Mechanically she tracks the action with the camera and the mike, not missing a single second, but her mind has fled somewhere else for solace, leaving her wide eyes empty and terrified. Tiny whimpering noises are being choked off somewhere in the back of her throat.)

(SCENE: By the bonfire. ROSENCRANTZ isn't moving. SYDNEY is just barely stirring, trying to kneel and mostly failing.)

FOOTBALL PLAYER: ... Rome... Rome, what...

ROMEO: Shut up.

FOOTBALL PLAYER: Rome, this is bad shit... Rome...

ROMEO: SHUT UP!

(The football player does, in fact, shut up, although from his expression you can tell he's just about to crack. ROMEO doesn't seem to care.)

ROMEO: That faggot needed stomping! He TOUCHED me, goddammit, like I was one of his faggot friends! TOUCHED ME!

FOOTBALL PLAYER: (strangled) Rome...

ROMEO: (grinning) Another faggot here that needs to be TAUGHT... a LESSON...

(ROMEO's eyes turn towards SYDNEY, who's only just barely managed to pull himself to his knees. The threat implicit in this action wakes ASHLEY from his terrified trance.)

ASHLEY: (hysterically angry) NO! GODDAMMIT! YOU LEAVE HIM ALONE! ROMEO, YOU FUCKHEAD!

ROMEO: (darkly gleeful) What? Don't you want me touching your little faggot boyfriend?

HARDIN: (voice from the dark) Sydney's not Ash's boyfriend, Romeo.

(HARDIN steps into the firelight, grim and determined, putting himself between ROMEO and SYDNEY. He meets ROMEO's gaze with eyes like flint.)

HARDIN: ... he's mine.

(This simple statement galvanizes everyone. ROMEO is a statue, his manic unbelieving eyes on HARDIN; the three football players jerk around to face HARDIN as well. CALLO comes to herself with a start, her mouth falling open; then she slaps the mike onto the table and races for the door, running as fast as she can. ASHLEY's reaction is much more complicated; his features flicker from confusion to relief to anger to the faintest beginnings of doubt. He believes; for just a moment, again, ASHLEY believes.)

SYDNEY: (weakly) ... John... no...

(SYDNEY stretches out his good arm towards HARDIN, imploringly. HARDIN doesn't even acknowledge SYDNEY, every fiber of his being intent on meeting ROMEO's eyes. ASHLEY, however, is watching SYDNEY and HARDIN intently, his eyes beginning to cloud over.)

HARDIN: (quietly) Your little game is over, Romeo. I've called the police, and they're on their way.

(HARDIN holds up his cell phone to reinforce the point. The football player who captured SYDNEY backs away, his mouth open; the other two football players loosen their grip on ASHLEY. Even though ASHLEY could probably break free now, he doesn't, unwilling or unable to break HARDIN's temporary spell over ROMEO.)

HARDIN: If you say anything -- anything! -- about any of this, to anyone, I assure you, you will regret it. Trust me.

(That last 'Trust me' breaks through ROMEO's temporary startlement. ROMEO smacks one fist into his other hand, snarling at HARDIN.)

ROMEO: Fuck you, Mister President! I won't get in one bit of trouble for this, and we both know it! I can do any fucking thing I want, and the principal will just shake his head and let me go...

(HARDIN sneers, an ugly expression almost as bad as ROMEO's manic grin, and ROMEO stops, startled. No one's ever seen HARDIN do anything like that before.)

HARDIN: (sharply) Fuck the school, Romeo. This is the real fucking world, and that's real fucking assault. And who do you think the cops are going to listen to? You? Or me, the city councillor's son?

ROMEO: ...

HARDIN: (truly vicious, for perhaps the first time in his life) Let me give you a little life lesson, Romeo. Football players are all very well and good, but in the REAL world, it's money and connections that matter, and I've got more of both than you do. So FUCK you.

(HARDIN falls silent; as if to reinforce his point, we can hear sirens, ever so faintly in the distance. After a moment:)

FOOTBALL PLAYER: Fuck this. FUCK this.

(And he races away, quickly disappearing into the dark. The two football players holding ASHLEY look at each other, look at ROMEO... and then drop ASHLEY's arms and run as well. ASHLEY jerks his arms, flexing his fists, and turns to face ROMEO, his expression almost as manic as ROMEO's own. And for a single, shining moment, the scene freezes in a grim tableau: ASHLEY, with CALLO just now coming up behind him, on one side of the fire; HARDIN, standing protectively in front of SYDNEY, on the other side of the fire; and ROMEO, his form silhouetted onto ROSENCRANTZ's body, making the apex of the triangle. ROMEO's eyes jerk from HARDIN, to ASHLEY, to HARDIN, to ASHLEY... and then the sirens become just a little louder, and ROMEO makes his decision.)

ROMEO: (pointing one shaking finger at ASHLEY) This is NOT over.

(And ROMEO turns and runs, quickly disappearing into the darkness. HARDIN heaves a deep, shaking breath, tucking his cell phone back into his pocket; then he immediately turns and goes to the wounded SYDNEY, kneeling down in front of him and touching his good shoulder with infinite care. Half-crazed with adrenalin, ASHLEY tracks HARDIN's movements, his jaw tense, the doubt in his eyes growing; the moment that HARDIN touches SYDNEY, ASHLEY's hands ball into fists.)

HARDIN: (tremulously) Sydney? Are you okay?

SYDNEY: I... oh god, John...

(Worried, oblivious, emotionally overwrought, HARDIN does the worst thing possible: he wraps his arms carefully around SYDNEY, supporting him against his chest. SYDNEY whimpers softly and rests his head against HARDIN, closing his eyes. Seeing this, -hearing- this, something in ASHLEY's eyes goes very dark indeed, as that horrible, nagging doubt suddenly becomes all too real for him.)

ASHLEY: (very cold) Your? Boyfriend?

HARDIN: (trembling voice, on the verge of tears) Not now, Ash. God. Not now. I'll explain later...

ASHLEY: No, goddammit, now. YOUR boyfriend? How long... was this all just a fucking JOKE?

(SYDNEY forces his eyes open, groggily looking around until he spots ASHLEY.)

SYDNEY: ... Ash? What...

(And SYDNEY stops, appalled. ASHLEY is shaking with rage, his hands knotted at his sides.)

ASHLEY: (snarling) John's boyfriend. JOHN's boyfriend. How many YEARS...? I should have fucking KNOWN it was too good to be true, so fucking understanding, so intense so fast. Decided to get a little on the side off the new kid before he finds out about you, huh? Were you two LAUGHING at me in bed together afterwards?

SYDNEY: Ash... no!... it's...

ASHLEY: (explosive) NO! Don't you goddamn well lie to me any more, Sydney! LOOK at him! LISTEN to him! TRY and convince me you're not screwing him while he's crying over you like that, if you're so good an actor! All that and it was all a fucking LIE!

(That's about all that HARDIN can take. Burning with adrenalin, furious, overwrought, he leaps to his feet. SYDNEY slumps forward, barely catching himself on his good arm, mouth open to make a protest that never comes.)

HARDIN: SHUT THE FUCK UP, Ash! I had to get Romeo to listen to me somehow, and it worked... but I DO love Sydney, goddammit, and unlike you, I'M NOT AFRAID TO ADMIT IT, YOU GODDAMN COWARD!

(Shocked silence. HARDIN looks almost as startled as ASHLEY.)

HARDIN: ... I...

(Before HARDIN can say anything else, ASHLEY's fist loops out and crashes into HARDIN's face; HARDIN reels back, clutching at his eye. ASHLEY's face is contorted and furious, and his eyes are almost as manic as ROMEO's were.)

ASHLEY: FUCK you!

(And then ASHLEY turns, finally looking at SYDNEY. SYDNEY makes a tiny, disbelieving noise, his good hand clutching at his chest as his heart seems to shatter; ASHLEY's eyes are hard and cold as he looks at SYDNEY, his face twisted into an angry sneer. SYDNEY meets that hateful gaze, unable to tear his eyes away; after a moment, ASHLEY snorts and turns away, and SYDNEY cringes helplessly.)

ASHLEY: (venomous) Fuck you too, Sydney. FUCK you.

(And ASHLEY wheels around and stomps off out of the circle of firelight, quickly vanishing from sight. CALLO looks from HARDIN and SYDNEY to the retreating ASHLEY, and back, her eyes wide and terrified... then without a word she runs off after ASHLEY. SYDNEY can only stare after ASHLEY, eyes immense with pain and shock.)

HARDIN: (one hand over his purpling eye) ... oh god...

(SYDNEY doesn't say anything. He can't. All he can do is sit, and stare in the direction that ASHLEY went.)

HARDIN: (staggering to his feet) Sydney... come on, we need to go before the police get here...

(SYDNEY doesn't move. Fresh tears finally come, now that it's too late, and ASHLEY isn't here to see; SYDNEY trembles violently, succumbing to hopelessness.)

HARDIN: (despairingly) Sydney...

SYDNEY: (almost inaudible) ... Ash... oh, Ash...

(And HARDIN remains frozen for a long moment, listening to the terrible keening noises that SYDNEY is now making in the back of his throat, like a dying animal caught in a trap. Eventually, HARDIN manages to coax SYDNEY to his feet, although SYDNEY moves mechanically, oblivious to everything but the need to stare at the spot where he last saw ASHLEY. HARDIN slips his arm around SYDNEY and half-leads half-drags him away, SYDNEY still looking back over his shoulder, desperately looking for an ASHLEY that won't be there, and won't ever be there again. The sirens get louder, and louder; at the very end of it all, all that's left is the bonfire and ROSENCRANTZ's unmoving form.)

(CURTAIN.)

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