THE SETUP
Byron is battling AIDS. The side effects of the drugs he’s taking are making it nearly impossible to sleep. That, and staring his own mortality in the face, is making Byron restless in the middle of the night.
Unable to rest, Byron goes to his straight best friend Vincent, who he’s always nursed a not-so-secret crush on, in search of comfort.
“Mr. Woody’s alert this morning.”
Emphasis shifts to VINCENT lying in bed, sound asleep in the middle of the night.
Pause.
Then, the intercom BUZZER sounds.
VINCENT
(rolling over in bed)
Huh?
BUZZER sounds again.
VINCENT sits bolt upright in bed.
VINCENT (continued)
What?
BUZZER sounds again.
VINCENT realizes what the sound is, what time it is, falls back on the bed.
VINCENT (continued)
Oh, God.
BUZZER sounds again.
VINCENT rolls out of bed and staggers over to one edge of the pool of light. He reaches into the near darkness and presses the button on an unseen intercom panel.
VINCENT (continued)
Yeah?
BYRON is out in the darkness, as if heard over the intercom.
BYRON
Vince?
VINCENT
Yeah?
BYRON
It’s Byron.
VINCENT
Yeah?
BYRON
I know it’s late. I’m really sorry.
VINCENT
Yeah?
BYRON
Could you buzz me in? I really need to talk.
VINCENT
Yeah.
VINCENT buzzes BYRON through.
We hear him approaching.
BYRON
God, I am so sorry. I know I shouldn’t have come but —
VINCENT
Get your butt in here. Other people are trying to sleep.
BYRON
Oh God, Gabby isn’t here, is she? I’m not —
VINCENT
Interrupting anything? No. I’m on my own tonight.
BYRON
Still, I’m really, really sorry.
VINCENT
Stop apologizing. What’s up?
BYRON
I just couldn’t sleep.
VINCENT
The medicine again?
BYRON
The nausea, the insomnia, I mean, I know it’s helping, I guess it’s helping, but I can’t sleep. I finished vomiting for the third time and I thought of you.
VINCENT
I’ll try and take that in the spirit that it’s meant.
BYRON
I’m scared.
VINCENT
Of what?
Sorry, stupid question.
BYRON
I can’t shut my eyes alone. All I feel is the darkness.
VINCENT
I take it this means you don’t want the couch.
BYRON
I know this is weird.
VINCENT
There aren’t a whole lot of guys I’d do this for, you know.
BYRON
You’re a prince.
VINCENT
Just so we’re clear on that.
BYRON
Absolutely.
VINCENT
OK, hard-on check.
VINCENT looks down at BYRON, then himself.
VINCENT (continued)
OK, we’re clean. Hop in.
BYRON gets in bed.
VINCENT (continued)
That’s my side.
BYRON shifts over.
VINCENT gets in bed next to BYRON.
Both are lying on their sides, BYRON’s back to VINCENT.
VINCENT (continued)
Now go to sleep.
BYRON shifts closer to VINCENT.
VINCENT groans, puts his arms around BYRON from behind and pulls him closer.
VINCENT (continued)
Sleep.
VINCENT drifts off.
BYRON lays there a moment in VINCENT’s arms, wide awake.
After a moment or two, a shift to —
Morning light.
BYRON is smiling.
VINCENT shifts, opens his eyes just a little, tenses, then remembers why BYRON is there, and relaxes. He senses the smile, and speaks with his eyes closed, slightly groggy.
VINCENT (continued)
What are you grinning about?
BYRON
Mr. Woody’s alert this morning.
VINCENT
Don’t take it personally.
BYRON, still grinning, chuckles.
VINCENT swats him lazily.
VINCENT (continued)
Go back to sleep.
(photo: 1997-1998 production by The Subterranean Theatre Company (Los Angeles, CA); Mark Vanslow as Bryon (front) and Doug Sutherland as Cian (back)
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