Work Text:
INT. THE BATHROOM
The camera pans upward from the grimy floor of the BATHROOM. Along the way we see three things: the CORPSE, LAWRENCE’S chained foot in the corner, and finally, ADAM. The camera rests on ADAM, sitting against the pipe he’s chained to with his bare feet on the tile, knees propped up. His elbows rest on them, seemingly deep in thought– as deep as he can be.
ADAM: Look, maybe we should just take a break or something. I can’t keep thinking like this.
LAWRENCE: (bewildered) You? (gesturing at the CORPSE) I’ve been doing enough thinking for all three of us.
ADAM: (rolling his eyes) My head hurts, man. I’m not gonna be coming up with any Nobel Prize winning solutions to this unless you give me a sec.
LAWRENCE: Oh, sure, right. I give you a second that turns into a minute. A minute turns into ten. Ten into thirty. Thirty into an hour, and suddenly we’re out of time. (pointing at the CLOCK, sparkling clean on the wall) Clock is ticking, remember?
ADAM: (following the trajectory of his finger) Yeah, yeah, I get it. But I mean it. Are you not tired of thinking up shit ideas?
LAWRENCE: (sniffing) They were all worth a try.
ADAM: (electing not to comment) Let’s just… I don’t know. Distract ourselves somehow.
LAWRENCE: (visibly annoyed) Are you being stupid on purpose?
ADAM: (defensive) What’s your problem, man? I don’t know about you, but I can think of a million things I’d rather think about than this!
ADAM lifts his foot a handful of inches off the ground and allows the chain to crash back onto the floor.
LAWRENCE: Fine. (crossing his arms over his chest) Then what, in your genius mind, is your idea of a ‘distraction’ right now?
ADAM: (suddenly sheepish, insecure; shrugging his shoulders) I didn’t get that far. You shot me down.
LAWRENCE laughs, dry. He’s clearly still of the opinion that the suggestion is a waste of time, but what else can he do? He sits quietly and gives ADAM the floor. They both wait for him to come up with something.
Within a few moments, ADAM finally lights up.
ADAM: I got it. We could play a game.
LAWRENCE: (waving his arms around broadly) Oh, like this one?
ADAM: Now who’s being stupid on purpose? (sticking his tongue out briefly, childlike in nature) You know what I mean. What about two truths and a lie?
LAWRENCE: (furrowing his brow) What is that?
ADAM: Ah, sorry. Forgot you’re like, fifty. (ignoring LAWRENCE’S indignant scoff) Basically we just take turns telling each other shit about ourselves, but two things are true and one thing isn’t. You have to guess what I’m lying about.
LAWRENCE: How is this productive? At all?
ADAM: (sighing) It’s not. That’s kind of the whole point; it’s fun.
LAWRENCE: Somehow I think you and I have two very different ideas of fun.
ADAM: (under his breath) Dinosaurs stopped having fun a few million years ago. (louder, in earshot) Whatever, are you in or out?
LAWRENCE: (persuaded) If it will appease you and your waning intellect, fine. I’ll play.
ADAM: (smirking in satisfaction) Cool. You go first.
LAWRENCE thinks for a moment, mulling over the game’s guidelines in his head. The gears are clearly turning.
LAWRENCE: (somewhat hesitant) Okay… fine. I have a daughter, I’m a doctor, and I don’t want to be here.
ADAM: (staring blankly, no longer smiling) Dude. You’re really bad at this.
LAWRENCE: (deriding) What are you talking about?
ADAM: (incredulous) Were you even listening? I said two truths and a lie!
LAWRENCE: (trying his hand at sarcasm) I did lie. There’s nowhere else I would rather be than here.
ADAM: (catching on) Ha, ha, ha. (to an invisible audience) Oh, this guy is hilarious! Get him a mic! Get him a raise! (to LAWRENCE) You picked the wrong career, Larry. You would have killed it in stand-up.
LAWRENCE: (repressing a smile threatening to crack his otherwise stony facade) Alright, alright, I get it.
ADAM: Plus, it’s gotta be, like, personal shit. It’s not fun if a toddler could guess it.
LAWRENCE: I’m not sure a two-year-old off the street would know about my daughter. (continuing; leaving no room for ADAM to interject) You go first, then.
ADAM: (opening and closing his mouth, resembling a fish; eventually giving in) Sure, whatever. Let’s see… I’m in a band, I can touch my tongue to my nose, and I’m allergic to bees.
LAWRENCE: Hm. (staring intently at ADAM as he comes to a decision) You can’t touch your tongue to your nose.
ADAM: (grinning, triumphant) Read it and weep, Doc!
ADAM sticks his tongue out again, this time with purpose. He angles it upward out of his mouth, leaning forward to display the act for LAWRENCE, and, finally, pumps his fists in the air once he feels wetness against the tip of his nose.
LAWRENCE: (with a gentle chuckle) Okay, impressive. What is it, then? No bee allergy?
ADAM: (shaking his head) Nah, I’m not in a band. Not anymore, at least. Me and Scott tried to start one in high school but we kept arguing over who got to be lead vocals.
LAWRENCE: You sing, then?
ADAM: Something like that. I can sing, play bass, guitar, a little on the keys. I used to beg my parents for a drum kit but they cared a little more about not going deaf.
LAWRENCE: Interesting. I hadn’t taken you for the musical type.
ADAM: (waving him on, not questioning the intent) Now you go.
LAWRENCE: I’m rather a good cook, I drive a BMW, and, ah… I can’t swim.
ADAM: (thinking hard) I’ve seen your car, I know that’s true. It’s nice, by the way. I’m gonna say… you can’t swim?
LAWRENCE: (slightly embarrassed) Correct.
ADAM: Aw, what?! That’s crazy! Swimming is great!
LAWRENCE: It wasn’t a skill my parents deemed necessary. I get by with avoiding bodies of water.
ADAM: (shaking his head) Nah, Larry, you haven’t lived ‘til you cannonball in the deep end. Or go on one of those waterslides as tall as a skyscraper! We’ll get you swimming lessons when we get out of here.
LAWRENCE barely conceals his flinch at the colloquial “we”.
LAWRENCE: Who’s going to teach a grown man to swim?
ADAM: (beaming) I will. You can teach me how to ride a bike.
LAWRENCE: (like a weight has been lifted from his chest) You can’t ride a bike?
ADAM: Nope. I was a scooter kid. Always the last one to the park, but hey, I could do some sick tricks.
LAWRENCE: I’ll give you Diana’s training wheels.
ADAM: (snorting) Take a guy out to dinner first.
A silence falls between them. ADAM looks embarrassed about the comment, far more so than LAWRENCE, who is smiling softly. It has something in it– fondness? ADAM jumps ship.
ADAM: (clearing his throat) Uh, anyway, my turn. I have a cat, I have a brother, and I can’t sleep without any background noise.
LAWRENCE: You seem like you might have a pet. I’ll guess that’s the lie; do you have a dog instead?
ADAM: Right idea, wrong option. I have a sister.
LAWRENCE: (tilting his head to the side) So you do have family outside.
ADAM: I guess. (rubbing at his shoulder) We really don’t talk. My parents keep her away from me. I do what I can.
LAWRENCE: (frowning) Sorry to hear it.
ADAM: It is what it is. She’s eighteen soon and then they can’t force her to do anything anymore.
LAWRENCE: When was the last time you saw her?
ADAM: (smiling sadly) Last October. I left a birthday present by her window.
LAWRENCE: (nodding) You care a lot for her.
ADAM: Yeah. Yeah, I do.
ADAM absentmindedly fidgets with one of the chain links shackling his foot. LAWRENCE watches him, unknowingly mirroring the action with his own fingers. The quiet is comfortable, but still, LAWRENCE interrupts it.
LAWRENCE: It’s funny, you know. I can’t get to sleep unless it’s absolutely silent.
ADAM: (lifting his head to look at LAWRENCE) That’s weird, dude.
LAWRENCE: (shrugging) It’s always been that way. Even a fan blowing will keep me from falling asleep. No TV, no white noise, no nothing.
ADAM: That’s psychopathic. How does your wife deal?
LAWRENCE inhales deeply, his tongue darting across his lips. He looks sadly to the floor.
LAWRENCE: It isn’t often that we share a bed.
ADAM: Oh. (holding his arms close to his body now) Shit. I’m sorry.
LAWRENCE: (shaking his head) No, don’t be. My turn, yes?
ADAM nods.
LAWRENCE: I’ve never kept a houseplant alive longer than a month, this was one of my favorite shirts, and every year I manage to forget my own birthday.
ADAM: (impressed) Specific. I’m gonna guess you actually hate that shirt.
LAWRENCE: Unfortunately not. I’ve had the philodendron in my home office for two years.
ADAM: You can remember to water a plant but not your own birthday?
LAWRENCE: I have priorities.
ADAM: (wrinkling his nose) And shit taste. That shirt’s pretty ugly.
LAWRENCE: (kissing his teeth) It brings out my eyes.
ADAM: Did your wife tell you that?
LAWRENCE: No, my mother.
ADAM erupts into laughter. Whether or not it was a joke, he finds it funny. Hilarious. LAWRENCE is taken aback by the reaction and does not join him but does cover his mouth with his hand. He seems to have started enjoying himself.
ADAM: Cool, okay. I’ll go again. I like waffles over pancakes, I hate the summer, and, uh… hm.
ADAM thinks long and hard on his next selection. He looks to LAWRENCE, his expression a concoction of a spectrum of emotion.
ADAM: And… I’m gay.
LAWRENCE: (seemingly unfazed by the admission, true or false) I prefer pancakes, too.
ADAM: Bold of you, but you got me. (freezing; suddenly spastic) Wait a minute! You didn’t think I was lying about being gay?
LAWRENCE gives him a look with an underlying apology.
LAWRENCE: Why lie about that?
ADAM: No, no, that’s not it. It wasn’t a guess. You knew.
LAWRENCE: Call it ‘like recognizes like’.
ADAM: (baffled) But you’re–
LAWRENCE: Married? Yes.
ADAM: To a woman!
LAWRENCE pinches the bridge of his nose between his fingers.
LAWRENCE: Surely we don’t need to have the conversation about picking sides?
ADAM, still reeling from this information, nods his head. He sees the picture now.
ADAM: Yeah, no, it’s fine. It’s cool. How did you, uh…
LAWRENCE: (buttoning and unbuttoning the cuffs of his shirt) There was a man in medical school.
ADAM decides not to push further.
ADAM: (nodding, quiet for a moment) Think that’s why we’re here?
LAWRENCE: (huffing a laugh) For having inclinations towards men? I doubt that.
ADAM: You never know. Maybe this guy is, like, super homophobic.
LAWRENCE: This isn’t common knowledge about me. I never even told Alison.
ADAM: (shocked) You never told your wife you were fucking guys in college?
LAWRENCE: Medical school. (biting his lip) No, it didn’t feel necessary. It isn’t relevant to our relationship.
ADAM: I’d probably want to know my squeaky-clean super-rich straight-shot husband prefers the company of other men.
LAWRENCE: (snide) I never said I preferred it.
ADAM: Would you rather be stuck in here with a girl right now, then?
LAWRENCE regards ADAM skeptically. A beat passes before he comes to an answer.
LAWRENCE: No.
ADAM appears taken aback by the simple two-letter word. He may have laughed if LAWRENCE didn’t seem so sincere.
ADAM: (glancing away) You’re so not my type.
LAWRENCE: (simpering) I don’t date young.
ADAM: (pointing an accusatory finger at him) You shouldn’t be dating at all!
LAWRENCE chuckles, despite himself. There’s something out of place in the look on ADAM’s face, something like… disappointment? Perhaps he’s imagining it. He can’t afford to dwell.
LAWRENCE: Is that time enough for your game?
ADAM: Yeah, yeah, that was good. Uh, thanks. For that.
Instead of replying, LAWRENCE simply nods. He won’t admit that he didn’t hate it. He hopes ADAM can tell anyway.
LAWRENCE: (looking to the clock) We should go back to the drawing board.
ADAM: Well, my marker’s dead. Whatcha got, Larry?
LAWRENCE: Okay, what do you say we try this?
FADE OUT as their chatter becomes indistinct.