Scene 1: Mindy Lynde’s Office

Mindy is sitting at her desk. She speaks allowed as she takes her notes.

Mindy: Jenna Crawly is a perfectly competent individual. She can carry out daily tasks and think logically in nearly all situations. Her only problem is with her grasp of reality. She is prone to paranoid delusions of being watched by an imaginary audience and that her life is just two hours representative of a day which repeats itself over and over again like a play or a movie. (Mindy looks up at the audience and thinks.) It is not an entirely illogical delusion, come to think of it, as Jenna is simply stuck in a common existential quandary which many healthy people have often considered fleetingly themselves. Sometimes she even convinces me that there is someone else out there, watching me. (Mindy stops again, and then crosses out what she has just written.) I have prescribed a form of haloperidol to help her eliminate these hallucinations, but it is not as effective as I had hoped. However, I still disagree with the chief of staff’s opinion that she should lose her outpatient privileges. I repeat: Jenna Crawly is a perfectly competent individual.

Scene 2: Jenna’s Apartment

Jenna sits at a table and is writing things on a piece of paper with a pencil which she keeps scribbling out. Writing and scribbling out. Writing and scribbling out. She writes so hard that her pencil breaks. She crumples up the paper and throws it in the trash. She looks at the audience.

Jenna: Can any of you spare a pencil?

Scene 3: Rachel and Allan’s Apartment

Rachel is sitting on the couch, drinking gin. Chance knocks.

Rachel: It’s open.

Chance: Hey… Where’s Allan?

Rachel: He won’t be here for dinner.

Chance: Yeah, neither will Jenna. She decided she wasn’t hungry.

Rachel: Not a problem. It just means more for us.

Chance: No kidding. I love spaghetti amatriciana.

Rachel: Were you always this sweet when we were dating?

Chance: I was an English nerd with honors— I was annoyingly sweet.

Rachel: You haven’t lost your touch.

Chance: Glad it’s appreciated.

Rachel: I really appreciate you coming on such short notice. I didn’t want to eat alone.

Chance: Rachel, did you and Allan have a fight?

Rachel: Did you and… I forgot what I was going to say.

Chance: Give it a second.

Rachel: Um… Oh. Did you and Jenna have a fight?

Chance: You know me and Jenna, if it’s not one thing, it’s another. She’ll get over it, though. She always does.

Rachel: Allan left me—

Chance: What??

Rachel: —a note. Don’t you let people finish their sentences?

Chance: Sorry. What’d the note say?

Rachel: That he was leaving me.

Chance: Oh…

Rachel: Sorry I snapped at you.

Chance: I brought garlic bread.

Rachel: See? You really do think of everything. I forgot garlic bread.

Chance: Why don’t I get it heated up?

Chance goes toward the kitchen, starts preparing the food. Rachel remains on the couch.

Rachel: Jenna always said I shouldn’t joke about him so much. He was so sensitive, Allan. Jenna said if I didn’t start taking things seriously and stop taking him for granted he’d be gone. But— I had to work. He knows what that’s like, he’s a fucking lawyer.

Chance: Did he love you?

Rachel: “To the ends of the earth, he loved me.” He said. Always said that. (She nods at the table.) Says it again in the note.

Chance: And did you love him?

Rachel finishes off her glass before answering.

Rachel: More than I ever admitted.

Chance: Do you want any more gin?

Rachel: I already finished the bottle. (A beat.) Sorry I can’t offer you any.

Chance: I prefer tequila anyway.

Rachel: Ah, that I can help you with. Second door to the right.

Chance looks to the right, and finds nothing. He realizes she meant left, checks there, and pulls a tequila bottle out of the cabinet. He pours himself a shot right there and drinks it.

Rachel: You know, we have lemons in the fridge.

Chance: Not my style. I prefer my poison straight up and unvarnished.

Rachel: Like your girlfriends.

Chance takes another shot.

Chance: Yeah. They always did have a quality of honesty to them.

Rachel: Do you think Jenna would ever cheat on you?

Chance: I don’t think her heart is big enough for more than one person.

Rachel: You’re not being fair to her. She loves you a lot. She just doesn’t know it.

Chance walks over to the couch with two bowls of spaghetti and hands one to Rachel.

Chance: I doubt that. (A beat.) We’re probably breaking up.

Rachel: Oh Chance, I’m so sorry.

Chance: Yeah. Oddly enough, I am too. Henri doesn’t get it. He thinks I’ll be glad to be rid of her. But she’s the one who wants to break it off, and me, the emotionally-abused fiancé, is the one trying to keep us together.

Rachel: Because you love her. And you know she loves you. Do you know why she wants to break up?

Chance: All she said was she didn’t want to disappoint me anymore.

Rachel: She’ll come to her senses. You guys’ll make it, I’m sure of it. I was rooting for you two from the start. You’re like—fuck—um—Romeo and—no, that’s not right…

Chance: She was so wild and crazy when we were first together, you know?

Rachel: Bonnie and—they were criminals, weren’t they?

Chance: Until she developed this—this audience obsession. And then I didn’t know how to talk to her anymore.

Rahcel: What I’m thinking of is a cartoon…

Chance: She stopped caring about all the things she used to care about; she stopped caring about me.

Rachel: Aha! Mickey and Minnie Mouse, that’s who you are! JFK and Jackie O. Superman and Lois Lane. Sonny and Cher!

Chance: And then it’s like all the emotion in her drained away. And I just don’t—

Rachel: Don’t stop me, I’m on a role here!

Chance: Would you cut it out? We’re not any of those couples!

There is an awkward pause. Rachel puts down her bowl and stands to give Chance a hug.

Rachel: Aw, sweetheart…

Chance refuses the hug.

Chance: I just don’t know where all her passion went.

Rachel: It’s just hidden under all her issues, I’m sure.

Chance: Yeah. I used to be sure. I don’t know if I am anymore.

Chance goes to serve himself some more spaghetti and spills hot spaghetti sauce on his hand.

Chance: Ow! Ow ow ow!

Rachel walks swiftly to the kitchen.

Rachel: Go to the sink and wash it off.

She helps him wash it and massages his hand. She looks up at him.

Rachel: There. See? Not even a burn mark.

Chance looks up at Rachel and smiles. Their eyes meet. They break apart abruptly.

Chance: Are you always this lucid when you’re drunk?

Rachel: It’s my curse.

Chance: Do you have a headache?

Rachel: A little.

Chance: Sit down, Rach. I’ll clean up.

Rachel: I should have drank on an empty stomach.

Chance: You going to be sick?

Rachel: No—no. I’ll be fine.

She walks back over to the couch and sits down. Chance begins to clean up.

Chance: You know, Rachel, whatever happened to us? Did we just fall out of love with each other? I mean, I know we broke up because of graduation, I was going to the U-dub, you were going to New York. But when we finally saw each other again, we were like the best of friends—inseparable. If you had never introduced me to Jenna…

He turns around to see Rachel is asleep. He sighs and begins to dishes. There is a moment, and then Rachel falls off the couch. Chance turns around to see if she’s OK.

Rachel (from the floor): Ow.

Chance: Aw...

Chance pours Rachel a glass of water and helps her back on the couch.

Rachel: I’m sorry to do this to you, Chance.

Chance: Don’t be silly. It’s a guy’s duty to take care of his friend when she’s drunk off her ass.

Rachel: You’re so sweet, Chance.

Chance: So you’ve said.

Rachel: You know, you’re right. You’re not Mickey Mouse. You’re not Superman.

Chance: I’m no JFK either.

Rachel: You and Rachel are exactly like Rhett and Scarlet.

Chance: Great. We’re dysfunctional and we’re fictional.

Rachel: But we, Chance. We were always like Ashley and Melanie. We were good together, Chance. We were.

Chance: Oh, you’re no Melanie. But I liked that about you. We were good together, weren’t we?

They look at each other. They move in close.

Chance: If only I could talk to Jenna the way I talk to you…

Rachel pushes him away.

Rachel: No! No, we weren’t good together, we were terrible together, we were— (She stands up too fast and swoons) Woo, I do believe my head is going to fall off.

Chance puts his hands on her shoulders and eases her back down onto the couch.

Chance: You’re alright, Rachel. Allan’s a damn fool to walk out on you.

Rachel: No, he was a damn fool to marry me. He was smart to leave me. You were smart to leave me.

Chance: You’re beautiful when you’re helpless.

Rachel: You always did have a thing about damsels in distress…

Chance: Do you still like guys with braces?

Rachel: You don’t have braces anymore.

Chance: Do you still like guys who used to have braces?

They move close. This time they kiss. They fall onto the couch in each other’s embrace. Fade to black.

Scene 4: Mindy Lynde’s Office

Mindy sits at her desk and plays back a tape recorder. On the tape recorder we can here Jenna’s voice.

Jenna: Oh Jesus, I don’t know. I guess I’ve always been vaguely aware of them. It only mattered recently. When Chance proposed to me, I felt this huge weight on my shoulders and I realized it was all of their eyes on me, waiting to see what I would do. No one else sees them. They told me to come see you.

Mindy: You’re a brave girl to talk to me about this, Jenna.

Jenna: Do you think it’s possible, Dr. Lynde? You diagnose crazy people every day, but they’re only crazy according to us. Who are you to decide what’s crazy and not crazy? What’s real and not real?

Mindy: Let’s talk more about you, Jenna…

Mindy stops the tape. She continues to write her report.

Mindy: In reviewing Jenna’s old sessions I’ve come to understand that she never considered herself a normal person. Her delusions first arrived when she became engaged two years ago. I believe that it was a stressed induced illness, perhaps a phobia of commitment. Either way, the questions she poses are that of a philosophical individual. Her tone is that of one who has seen heaven and decided it was nothing new. She seems resigned to her fate, whatever that may be.

Mindy stops writing and looks up at the audience. She speaks next looking directly at them without writing.

Mindy: There are times in our sessions in which Jenna stops talking to me and addresses her audience directly. I am not sure what she sees, but it is fascinating to watch her treat them like old, silent friends. It seems almost a comfort to her, though she complains about them endlessly, to have these constant companions, always with her. She is never alone.

Mindy turns back to the paper.

Mindy: If only we all could see this audience. Maybe it would make life a little more interesting.

She thinks a minute, then crosses out what she wrote. She writes instead:

Mindy: Jenna Crawley is a perfectly competent individual.

Scene 5: Chance and Henri’s Apartment

Henri is sitting on the couch watching TV and eating cheetos. There is a knock at the door. Henri looks at it fleetingly, then back to the TV. There is another knock. Henri continues to eat cheetos. The banging gets louder until Henri finally gets up and answers the door. It’s Jenna.

Jenna: I’m here to talk to Chance.

Henri: He’s out. At Rachel’s.

Jenna: Oh. Right. I have to pee.

Henri: Go to your own apartment and pee.

Jenna: Please?

Henri reluctantly lets her in. She runs across the stage and off stage left. Henri waits for her impatiently. He walks back to the couch and begins to eat cheetos again. Jenna comes out and gathers her purse. She’s about to leave and stops. She looks at Henri.

Jenna: Maybe I could wait here for him? Dinner was a while ago, he should be home soon, shouldn’t he? I wanted to apologize to him.

Henri: What?

Jenna: On the phone, I said some things to him that I shouldn’t have. It’s because I was upset and I wanted to make it up to him. I wanted to invite him to move back in with me and tell him I wouldn’t be difficult anymore.

Henri: You can’t do that!

Jenna: What do you mean?

Henri: I mean you can’t just break up with a guy and then take him back. It’s not cool. You have him wrapped around your little finger and I don’t like it.

Jenna: Oh please, Henri, I’m sorry about your little crush, but Chance will never love you like that.

Henri: You rug-munching ice queen, you think you can come in here all cold and calm and just tell him that you want him back after two hours ago you just threw him off like he was an outdated magazine. Uh uh, no way, I won’t allow it.

Jenna: Oh don’t be so melodramatic, I’m leaving.

She turns to leave.

Henri: You’re right. I am being melodramatic.

She waits.

Henri: I’m just worried about him, is all. I’m worried about both of you.

Jenna: Both of us?

Henri: Your relationship was never fun for either of you, admit it. Ever since you two got engaged you’ve been the most miserable couple I’ve ever seen.

Jenna: You haven’t said two kind words to my face since the day we met, Henri. What the fuck have you been smoking this time?

Henri: That is another topic entirely, but honestly, Jenna, can you tell me that you’ve been happy these past two years being Chance’s indefinite fiancé? He keeps trying to set a date, you keep pushing it further back. I may be an asshole, but I’m not an idiot. You don’t want to get married.

Jenna: Don’t be ridiculous.

Henri: No, it’s true. I can read women like the front cover of a Calvin and Hobbs comic book. I have a knack for this kind of thing, it’s like an seventh sense.

Jenna: We only have five senses, Chance, it would be like a “sixth” sense.

Henri: No, the Sixth Sense is that kickass Bruce Willis flick from the nineties, I’m talking beyond an ability to see dead people here, Jenna.

Jenna: You can’t see dead people.

Henri: But you can, can’t you? Or at least, you can see non-existent people.

Jenna: Don’t patronize me, Henri, I don’t need to take this from you—

Henri: Who says I’m patronizing you? I believe you, Jenna. I’m one of the only people who do.

Jenna: You’re fucked in the head, do you know that?

Henri: You’ve always had a thing for me, haven’t you, Jenna?

Jenna: I beg your pardon!

Henri: I could always sense it, that chemistry between us.

Jenna: Would that be like an eighth sense?

Henri: No, it goes with the seventh. Couldn’t you feel it? That spark of lust every time I called you a heinous bitch, your coy way of responding by sticking out your tongue… I could see through your ruse. You wanted me.

Jenna: So fighting is like foreplay to you? Jesus, why you and Chance were friends, I’ll never know.

Henri caresses her cheek.

Henri: You’re skin’s so soft.

Jenna: Get the hell away from me!

Henri: Come on, Jenna, I thought we really had something here.

Jenna: I think it’ll be better if I just wait in my apartment and talk to Chance in the morning.

Henri: There’s not going to be a morning, Jenna. You’ll wake up tomorrow and realize it was exactly the same as yesterday.

Jenna: You’re right. You’re right, I feel the exact same way— How did you know that?

Henri: Would you believe me if I told you it was… part of my seventh sense?

Jenna: Sixth.

Henri: I thought I told you, I don’t see dead people, that’s a talent for you and Haley Joel Osment.

Jenna: Chance was right. You’re not so bad. I guess.

Henri: Not bad? I’m fucking killer. And wait ‘til you see how I work under more horizontal conditions, if you know what I mean.

Jenna: Ew.

Henri: Jenna—Aw, Jenna, come on, I didn’t mean it.

Jenna: Please, Henri, you’re arrogant machismo is not going to charm me into taking off my clothes.

Henri: No, Jenna, I’m sorry. My feelings for you are sincere.

Jenna: Bullshit.

Henri: Truly. When I look at you… I see a feather, floating on the ocean.

Jenna: What did you say?

He moves closer to her.

Henri: And I don’t think anyone could ever see the things you see if they stared at it for their whole lifetimes.

They move closer together.

Jenna: Yeah…?

Closer still.

Henri: Yeah. Your outlook on life, it’s so Rene Descartes of you, it fascinates me how deep you are.

Jenna: Oh you like Descartes?

Henri: If there was any other painter in history I would like to fuck more than her, it would be Virginia Wolfe.

They should be very close now. Their lips are inches apart.

Jenna: It’s strange. You know so much about me. It’s almost like you can read my mind…

She hits him hard and he falls over onto the couch.

Henri: Jesus, are you psychotic? I thought we were making a connection there!

Jenna: Yeah, real good way to connect, regurgitating things your roommate says about me. For future reference, you might not want to say you’d like to fuck Descartes. In this day and age, people will judge you for it.

Rubbing his face.

Henri: Ow, Jenna, that really hurt.

Jenna: I’m sorry. Don’t try to come onto me like that again.

Henri: Sorry. I just… I’ve been in love with you ever since I’ve met you.

Jenna: I thought I told you to drop it.

Henri: I have no idea how to act around women I actually like, let alone love. All I can do is get a girl to sleep with me. It’s like how I sell my scams. Except the girl generally gets what she pays for…

Jenna gives him a stern look.

Henri: OK, sorry, sorry, I’ll stop messing around. When Chance introduced you to me as his girlfriend, I put up a cold front and pushed you away. I’m sorry for that. I just… I couldn’t tell you the truth because, well, you were with my best friend, and I could totally tell you wanted me dead.

Jenna: I didn’t want you dead, Henri…

Henri: No, it’s OK. Even I want me dead sometimes. I’m not the nicest guy, in case you haven’t noticed.

Jenna: Let me get you some ice for that.

Jenna exits.

Henri: You were always so considerate.

Jenna (Off stage): No I’m not. (Enters.) But if I know Chance, you already know that.

She sits next to him and holds the ice on his face.

Jenna: Better?

Henri: Much. Thanks.

He puts his hand on hers, which holds the ice. She switches hands.

Henri: You do love him a lot, though, don’t you?

Jenna: I do. I really, really do.

Henri leans in to kiss her. She speaks before he can.

Jenna: I have a tumor.

Henri stops. He pulls away from her.

Henri: A—Oh. Well, how cute. I’ve always wanted a pet lemur.

Jenna: Not a lemur, Henri, a tumor. A brain tumor. It’s why I broke up with him. I was scared. I didn’t want to hurt him any more than I’d already had.

Henri: Oh. Well, in that case…

He leans in to kiss her again but stops himself. He gets frustrated.

Henri: God dammit!

Jenna: What?

Henri: I can’t do this. I can’t con a sick chick, let alone a sick chick my best friend is in love with.

Jenna: I knew it was a plot.

Henri: I just, I didn’t want you and Chance getting back together, so I thought if you cheated on him…

Jenna: I have too much on my mind to worry about adultery.

Henri: You know, Chance said that too. Sort of.

Henri: Are you serious about this tumor thing?

Jenna: Dead serious.

Henri: For future reference, don’t use that turn of phrase when answering that question.

Jenna: I went to the doctor’s because I thought I was pregnant. I was throwing up, I had headaches, I got tired all the time, my neck was sore… I thought I felt something squirming in my uterus.

Henri: Now can women really feel their uterus, I always wondered, because one time I thought I felt my gallbladder but it turns out I just ate some bad fish.

Jenna: There were times I couldn’t move. Couldn’t talk. I thought I was just being lazy.

Henri: Yeah, you can be pretty lazy.

Jenna: I’m going to die, Henri. And if I’m going to die, I’d rather be with Chance. And if I’m gonna be with Chance, I want to make him as happy as I can, while I can.

Henri: You know… that was pretty brave of you and all, trying to walk out of his life like that and face this alone.

Jenna: I thought I’d save him the trouble of watching me die. But then I knew he wouldn’t want that. So if I’m going to be in his life, I might as well do all I can to make him happy. If this ends tonight, or if this ends in six months to a year, I want to spend every minute of it watching him laugh. I want to marry him tomorrow on a mountain in a valley with a few people, and little flower girls in white dresses, and I want to scream to the world, “I love Chance Fields!” from that mountain top. I want to strip off all my clothes and make snow angels on its face. I want to kiss him on his forehead, on his eyes, on his ears. I want to dance to 80s songs and sing loudly and out of key. And I want to do it all for him. It should all be just for him.

Henri: Why don’t you go home, Jenna? Make yourself some tea. As soon as Chance gets home, I’ll send him over and you two can have a nice long talk.

Jenna: I’d like that. Thanks.

They try to hug but can’t. They settle for shaking hands.

Henri: I take it back. You’re not a rug-munching ice queen.

Jenna: And you can talk about fucking Descartes all you want.

She begins to leave. Henri calls after her and she pauses.

Henri: Hey Jenna! Was she hot?

Jenna: Who?

Henri: Descartes.

Jenna: Like the fires of hell.

She exits.

Scene 6: Mindy’s Office

Mindy is standing, addressing the audience.

Mindy: Yes, sir, it’s a full report… Actually, no. It’s not in support of Dr. Fedur’s motion. I know that’s what it’s supposed to be, but Jenna Crawley is a perfectly competent individual, and frankly Dr. Fedur is just projecting his own anxieties out on his patients. He’s running low on budget and thus is trying to commit as many patients as possible in order to make up for it… I know he’s my superior, but I just can’t stand it anymore, he’s been doing this for years and I just had to say something. I have faith in Jenna. She has a beautiful spirit. Staying here would crush that. It would kill her… Do I believe her, well, no, that’s absurd, but… (She looks out at the audience)… What? Oh. Well. Everything you need is in there. So yes. This is my report. (Her phone rings). Excuse me a moment. Mindy Lynde… Yes, I am her psychiatrist… I see. Thank you for informing me. (She hangs up.) I would like to have my paper back, sir. The news I just received from her doctor makes it irrelevant. Jenna Crawley has been diagnosed with a brain tumor.

Scene 7: Rachel’s House

Rachel and Chance are sitting on opposite ends of the couch awkwardly staring out at the audience. Chance is shirtless, the buttons on Rachel’s blouse are done up wrong.

Chance: I should get going. Henri will be up playing video games and I have to tell him it’s time for bed or else his sleep schedule will get thrown off.

Rachel: I’m sorry…

Chance: You were drunk. And I was caught up in the moment.

He rises and begins to gather his things.

Chance: Have you seen my shirt?

Rachel: I think it ended up over there somewhere… (She points in an arbitrary direction.)

Chance: Thanks. (He walks towards where she pointed.) Uh. Where?

Rachel: I don’t know, somewhere.

Chance walks back looking around the stage.

Chance: Rachel, I don’t see—OW!

He has walked right into the coffee table which hit him in the shin and he falls over, examining his leg.

Rachel: Are you alright?

Chance: Argh. I think I broke it.

Rachel gets up off the couch and looks at his leg.

Rachel: It’s not broken. It left a pretty nasty bruise though.

Chance: Jenna…

Rachel: Just don’t put so much weight on it for a while. Limp home if you have to.

They realize as she traces the bruise on his shin that they are too close for comfort. She pulls away. Chance sees his shirt under the coffee table and grabs it.

Chance: Thanks.

Rachel: For what?

Chance: This wakeup call. I’m in love with Jenna. I don’t need her to love me back. I just need her to be happy. If she’s happy with me, fantastic, but if she’s not…

Rachel: I know exactly how you feel.

Chance: You really are a beautiful person, Rachel.

He pecks her on the cheek.

Rachel: Go home. Call Jenna. Tell her what you just told me.

Chance: Thanks. I’m not giving up on her. I’m not giving up on us.

Chance exits.

Rachel: Go get her, tiger.

Scene 9: Chance and Henri’s Apartment

Henri is asleep on the couch. Chance tries to sneak in but the door slams. Henri wakes up points a video controller at him.

Chance: What are you gonna do, kill me with your joystick?

Henri: Oh, it’s you, I thought you were robbing the place.

Chance: Yeah, sorry I’m late. I’m going to bed.

Henri: Uh… You should call Jenna first.

Chance: What?

Henri: She stopped by. She wants to talk to you.

Chance: But it’s late…

Henri: I think she’ll be awake.

Chance: Are you OK?

Henri: Fantastic. Why?

Chance: Because you haven’t cussed since I walked in the door.

Henri: Just call you psycho bitch fiancé and let me get some fucking sleep, alright, bro?

Chance: We broke up.

Henri: You did not.

Chance: We might as well have.

Henri: She wants you back.

Chance: Is that what she said?

Henri: Pretty much.

Chance: You called her my fiancé.

Henri: Well she is, isn’t she?

Chance walks over to the phone and dials a number.

Chance: She’s not answering.

Henri: She’s awake.

Chance: You really think I should go now?

Henri: Hell yeah you should go now. She said she wants you to move back in with her. She said she’ll treat you better.

Chance: And you’re OK with this?

Henri: You were right. She’s not so bad once you get to know her. Why are you limping?

Chance: I ran into Rachel’s coffee table.

Henri: Must have been some coffee table to kick your ass.

Chance: Bite me.

Henri: I’ll let Jenna do that for me.

Chance: Fine. I’ll go. And you’re sure you’re OK with this?

Henri: Dude, stop being queer and go talk to your fiancé before you lose her!

Chance: Thanks, Henri. Really, thanks.

Henri: No problem.

Scene 10: Jenna’s Apartment

Jenna is sitting at her table. She is writing on a piece of paper. She writes all over the page, pressing harder on the pen each time until she bursts out in a frustrated cry. She crinkles up the paper and throws it at the audience.

NOTE: This following scene relies on audience participation. In it, Jenna should try to illicit a response from the audience and react to these. If, for example, an audience member catches the balled up paper, she does not have to tell them to pick it up. Just go with it.

Jenna (to specific audience member near the paper): You wanna pick it up? It’s OK—go ahead. You want to know what I’ve been writing, don’t you? Yeah, just pick it up. That’s right. That-a-girl/boy. Unwrinkled it. Read it… Well, don’t keep it to yourself, kid, read it out loud. Yeah, you, I’m talking to you, aren’t I? Read it.

The audience member reads the words “I love you.”

Jenna: Thank you. (To the whole audience) Now did that sound heartfelt to you?... Hm. No answer again, huh? Well… (Picks specific person out again) What about you? Do you think that sounded sincere? Yeah, you in the (describes article of clothing). (Jenna can respond in one of the following ways, depending on the audience member’s answer. Assume the answer is No.) I know, right? I don’t hear it either. (Assume the answer is Yes.) Aw. Well. I don’t feel like I mean it. You know? But… I tried to write “I hate you” too. That guy/girl (points to previously picked on audience member) will tell you, I began writing “hate” five times and my hand just wouldn’t write it, isn’t that right, Sparky? (Waits for member to reply. She nods. She looks at the collective audience and smiles.) You don’t like this, do you? It’s making you uncomfortable, isn’t it?

Jenna steps off of the stage and begins to walk the aisles.

Jenna: I see every one of you. You think you can hide here in the dark. You think you can pretend to live in the recesses of my Cancerous mind, but I see right through you. You exist. You exist more than I do. Or do you hide here in the dark because you question your life more than I do. Are you here because… you have no where better to be? Are you here to be entertained? Snug in your little chair, watching something play out in front of you like some old Hitchcock flick on the drive-in movie screen? So far away, but so very close. Well it’s too close now, isn’t it?

She stops and looks at a specific audience member. She tries to catch their eye. If she avoids it, she does not talk until they stare her in the eye. If they look at her right away, she launches right in to the next part.

Jenna: I can see you. (She kneels down to be face level with them). You’re no longer faceless. (She reaches out and touches audience member’s hand, or face, but she makes contact nonetheless). You’re corporeal. And since I can feel you, does that make me corporeal too? (She straightens and lets the audience member off the hook). I think I love you. I think that’s true. I think you’re as much a part of me as I am of you. Seemingly fleeting, maybe. Like acquaintances made in a coffee shop. But you’ve been watching me my whole life, the whole of these two hours. And I, I have only been in a small fraction of your life. But you will remember me. And you will tell your friends about me. Maybe. So what if I am just a character? Or, so what if I have a tumor? Either way, I die. Right? Except… Except, now, I think I’d much rather be a character.

Chance enters and looks around the stage.

Chance: Jenna? Jenna!

Jenna: Chance?

Chance: Jenna, where are you.

Jenna: I’m here, Chance!

She runs back to the stage. They embrace.

Jenna: Chance, I’m so sorry. I should have never said those things to you. I love you, I love you, I love you.

Chance: You sound like you mean that.

Jenna: Oh, I do.

Chance: I love you too. Can you… write it down?

Jenna: For you, I could, I could. Are you hurt?

Chance: What? Oh, the leg, no, I ran into Rachel’s coffee table… And, um, about Rachel…

Jenna: If you like, I can get you some ice.

Chance: Oh, no, that’s not necessary.

Jenna: There’s an unparalleled feeling I get when you smile.

Chance: Love?

Jenna: No, it’s kinda like being hungry.

Chance laughs.

Chance: Jenna, this is beautiful. Henri said you wanted me to move in again. I brought a bag. You want me to spend the night?

Jenna: If you want to.

Chance: Oh Jenna, you’re amazing. I’ll go get my stuff.

He turns to leave, and hesitates.

Chance: Jenna, there’s something I have to tell you about.

Jenna: Well I have something to tell you too, Chance.

Chance: Well… you wanna go first.

Jenna: I’d rather not.

Chance: Alright.

Silence.

Jenna: Well?

Chance: I’m sorry. You just looked so… pale in this light.

Jenna: I haven’t gotten much sleep lately.

Chance: You’re beautiful.

Jenna: What did you want to say?

Chance: Oh… Just that Rachel and I… care about you very much.

Jenna: Thank you.

Chance: You wanted to tell me something?

Jenna: I can wait until you get back with your stuff.

Chance: Jenna, I’ll be the best husband you ever had, I promise. And we’ll have lots of babies, and everyone around us will say, “Look at those fine looking kids, and smart too. It’s because their father read them Francis Hodgeson Burnett when they were babies and their mother lets them finger paint masterpieces.” Oh Jenna, we are going to have such a happy family, forever and ever. We’ll grow old together, just me and you, sitting in our rocking chairs, watching futuristic programs on a highly sophisticated futuristic TV and we’ll have grandkids and we’ll… Oh Jenna, I can’t wait.

Jenna: Neither can I.

Chance exits. Jenna turns back to the audience.

Jenna: I can’t write it down still. You know that. It wasn’t a lie, just the closest I could come to the truth. I’m sure if he asked me, if I tried hard enough, I could write the words “I love you.” Let me try.

She takes a piece of paper and a pencil and tries.

Jenna: It’s no use.

She sits down at the table and stares at the audience.

Jenna: But I do love him. I think. Who can be sure? I’m not sure of anything anymore. Not you, not me. “This is the way the world ends. Not with a bang but a whimper.” This is where we part. Hopefully, this is it. It means that I will never have to tell Chance that I’m sick. And he can go on with that fantasy about us growing old together frozen in his mind for all eternity as we repeat this day over and over again. But in case this is not it, in case my life does go on after that curtain closes, what do you guys think I should do? Should I tell him? (She lights a cigarette.) Silent as usual. Even though I can see each and every one of you. It’s OK. If the time comes, I’ll figure something out. I’ll tell him. And we can be happy together. (She turns the paper over). But I really hope that this is all there is. Because I could die right now if he will end with that smile on his face.

She looks at the paper. She begins to write. She takes out a gun and lays it on the table. She pulls out a cigarette and lights it.

Jenna: It always ends the exact same way it begins.

She leans back in her chair and smokes her cigarette. The lights dim to half. She exhales and speaks the next line in the half light.

Jenna: See you soon, assholes.

END