the disappearence of eleanor rigby

8/18/2019 The Disappearence of Eleanor Rigby

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The Disappearance of Eleanor Rigby

byNed Benson

Rough Draft


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EXT. 12TH STREET AND AVENUE B, EAST VILLAGE, NEW YORK CITY -A COUPLE SUMMERS AGO - NIGHT

CONOR LUDLOW, 27 at the time, somewhat handsome, dressed likesomeone out of a Kerouac novel, stands at an ATM machine in acorner grocery store looking a bit frustrated. He takes the

transaction record, but no cash...

He crumples the piece of paper, tosses it in a nearby trashcan, and heads down the avenue, pensive. We follow him toward11th as he weaves through the various other EAST VILLAGERSenjoying the June night...

A GIRL in a colorful skirt, One.org t-shirt, and flip flops walks by with her terrier...

A WAITRESS sucks on an American Spirit in front of herdive...

TWO THIRTY-SOMETHING SCRUFFY GUYS carrying a couple grocerybags pass...

A YOUNG COUPLE, eating Ice Cream sandwiches, strolls by in mid conversation...

HIPSTER GIRL(as she passes)

...Yeah, but what if what you feelis wrong?

Conor glances at them quickly while continuing up to thefront of a somewhat upscale restaurant called Uovo on the

corner of 11th and B.

INT. UOVO RESTAURANT - CONTINUOUS

He steps in the door and into the fog of various dinnerconversations.

He sees the MAITRE D’ and they trade gratuitous grins. He works his way past OTHER PATRONS (an array of suits, artsyfartsies, and pseudo-bohemians), a WAITER, and a BUS BOY overto a table along the wall where ELEANOR RIGBY, then 27, as

close to a heyday Katherine Ross as you can get and dressedthe best she can barely afford to be (a black vintageblouse), leans back against the banquet. She sits in front ofa close to finished chocolate biscuit and two glasses ofCabernet...

She hints a smile up at him.

He sits and puts his napkin back on his lap.


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ELEANORAnd?

CONORWould you still love me if I

couldn’t pay for dinner?

She looks at him, placid...

ELEANORPossibly.

She faintly grins then looks around the restaurant.

CONORSo, how do we do this?

ELEANOR

I’m thinking.

After a second...

CONOR(quietly)

We could fake a big loud fight,throw some shit, they kick us outof here.

ELEANORIt’s been done...It’ll draw too much attention.

She leans over, reaching, and starts to take off her shoesunder the table...

CONORWhat are you doing?

ELEANOR(matter of fact)

Taking off my heels...I’m gonna walk out first. You wait for theright moment when the Maitre D’s

not looking...or whenever, and I’ll meet you down the street.

The Maitre D’ passes back toward the kitchen.

Eleanor stands, turning a couple heads, and walks toward thedoor.

CONORHold on...

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Too late.

Conor, a bit confused, watches her go - cool as a cucumber asshe heads out.

Then the Maitre D’ passes back to the front and Conor remainsat the table, forced to look for the right moment.

After a couple seconds, he folds his napkin, places it on thetable, and peeks back over toward the Maitre D’ who answersthe phone...then Conor stands.

He begins to meander past the other tables toward the door,doing his best to face away from the Maitre D’.

He nears the front of the restaurant where A SMALL GROUP OFBANKER LOOKING TYPES, rolled up sleeves and loosened ties, waits for a table, and Conor hears...

VOICE (O.S.)Sir. Excuse me, sir...?

Conor turns and sees A WAITER behind him indicating the billin his hand...

The Maitre D’ glances and notices with the phone still to hisear...

Conor waves to the waiter politely as if in appreciation...

CONOR

Thank you.

EXT. UOVO/AVENUE B - MOMENTS LATER

He busts out the front door and emerges on Avenue B breakinginto a full sprint...

He weaves in and out of ANONYMOUS PEDESTRIANS...he looks backat the restaurant: the waiter steps out followed by theMaitre D’...

Conor turns ahead and sees Eleanor, her heels dangling fromher hands by her skirt, strolling barefoot further down thestreet...

CONORHey!

Eleanor turns and sees Conor barrelling toward her.

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ELEANORIt was pretty epic, though.

They take a moment to catch their breath.

CONORDid we lose them?

Eleanor looks around.

ELEANORI don’t know...did they even chaseus?

She collapses to the ground and lies down next to him as theystill try to catch their breath...

And that’s when they notice the FIREFLIES, little flares of

light in the dark pockets of the park around them.

They rest there and watch...

After a moment...

CONORThis is pretty good, isn’t it?

ELEANORYeah...it is.

She turns and looks at him a beat, then moves in and starts

to kiss him...he stops a moment...

CONOR(half teasing, close tocatching his breath)

There’s only one heart in thisbody, have mercy on me...

ELEANORShut up.

She continues to kiss him there on the ground as the

fireflies ignite around them.

A COUPLE YEARS LATER

EXT./INT. THE MIDNIGHT KITCHEN - AVENUE A - EARLY EVENING

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The modest open space of the eatery and bar is understated -polished concrete floors, cheap mood lighting, minimalisttables and benches, an adequate D.J. booth, an enclosedkitchen in the back, a glass front looking out to the street.

The Cure or something totally depressing plays over a speakersystem.

ALEXIS COHEN, mid-20s, pale features, coltish, sexy dependingon who you ask, stocks the bar in a black tank top, a pair ofDickies, rubber bracelets, and sings ironically along.

SIA, the busgirl/waitress, around thirty, precocious, cute,Japanese-American, sets a table.

Conor, around thirty now, slightly more cleaned up in arumpled oxford, jeans, and trendy reading glasses sits at thebar looking a bit frazzled while attending to some paper

work.

He looks up and listens...

CONORWhat the fuck are we listening to?

ALEXISThe soundtrack of my life.

CONORThat’s nice. Change it before I godive off a bridge.

He goes back to his paperwork.

She peers over at him.

ALEXISSomething you’d rather listen to?

CONOR(without acknowledgingher)

Anything that doesn’t make me want

to kill myself.ALEXIS

It’s just a song, Conor.

CONORNo, it’s a reflection of yourstable instability...

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She’s used to this, smirks, and steps over to the D.J. boothto change the song.

STUART EDELMAN, thirtyish, slightly round, in a white chef’sjacket, Dickies, and a pair of Vans steps out of the

kitchen...

ALEXISYou’ve developed a real talent forbeing an asshole.

Again, Conor doesn’t acknowledge her.

CONORWell, some day you can to.

Stuart surveys Conor as he pencils in some numbers on aledger in front of him and takes a seat at the bar next to

him...

STUARTWhat are you getting pissy aboutnow?

CONORThere’s the compassion I was waiting for.

STUARTI’m here to help.

Alexis puts on “Everybody Hurts” by R.E.M., smiling in self-amusement.

CONOR(reacting to the song)

Seriously Alexis.

Stuart suppresses a smile as she turns it up.

CONOR (CONT’D)It’s not fucking funny.

ALEXIS(competing with thevolume)

It’s kind of funny.

Conor stands up, walks over to the ersatz D.J. booth, andrips the iPod out of its adapter socket...

Then he walks to the entrance, opens the door, and flings thething as hard as he can down the street...

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He returns toward his seat.

A car alarm goes off in the distance.

Stuart and Alexis share a confused look...

ALEXISThat was yours...just so you know.

Conor looks up at her. He didn’t and feels stupid for asecond, but doesn’t show it, then goes back to his work.

STUART(a bit concerned)

Maybe you should take a stroll, gohome for a bit before the rush.

CONOR

We don’t have a rush and I’ve gottoo much fucking crap to deal with.I’m getting fucked by interestrates, the leasing agent’s tryingto crawl up my ass, the expense ofyour organic produce is exorbitant,Brooklyn Lager hasn’t shown up, andplease don’t use the word “should”in my vicinity. Ever.

Stuart observes him with a Buddhistic calm.

STUART

Finished?

Conor looks to him.

CONORAll I asked for was some happy music.

STUARTYou’re full of shit in a reallygood way.

Conor takes a moment and realizes this.CONOR

I’m gonna take a stroll.

He grabs his shoulder bag from the floor...

STUARTBe careful. It’s a dangerous worldout there.

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CONORApparently.

Stuart shares a concerned look with Alexis and they watchConor step out.

EXT. AVENUE A NEAR 7TH STREET - A LITTLE LATER

Conor trudges through the bustle in the long blue light ofthe late April evening...

A few VISUAL ART STUDENTS blabber, a GUY in a Yankees jacketyaps on a cell phone, an ELDERLY LADY pushes a personalgrocery cart, and A YOUNG COUPLE walks THEIR TODDLER in astroller...

Conor glances at the couple as they go by.

He passes the Coffee and Computers Internet Cafe storefrontand turns west on 7th Street and walks past a building underrenovation plastered with posters for some horror movie, aD.J.’s upcoming show, etcetera.

He eventually walks up to a slightly dilapidating ivy coveredbrownstone...

INT. STAIRWELL OUTSIDE CONOR’S APARTMENT - MOMENTS LATER

Conor walks up the stairs to the gray enamel painted door of

his apartment with the mail in hand.

INT. CONOR’S APARTMENT - CONTINUOUS

He steps onto the creaky wood floors of the apartment. It’spretty dark with the exception of what’s left of the eveninghanging outside.

He flips on the light to reveal the small foyer. An aging metallic blue ten speed leans against the wall. A pile oftaped up boxes sit in front of a closet door.

He drops his bag and the mail on the floor and walks throughthe living room filled by a bland couch and a coffee tablelittered by a few text books, a book bag leaning against it,an ashtray, a scented candle, some Village Voices, a Beatles’“Revolver” poster hangs on the wall, all under a small oldcrystal chandelier probably passed down by family.

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A goldfish swims tight laps around a cartoonish plasticcastle tower in a fishbowl on the adjacent kitchen’s counter.Conor goes over and looks into the bowl...

CONOR

Hello Ralph.

He takes some fish flakes from a little container and dropsthem in...then crosses to a hallway past a bathroom and intothe bedroom.

INT. BEDROOM - CONTINUOUS

He stops and looks at the bed...

A wave of brown hair sprawls out from underneath thecomforter onto a pillow under a framed movie poster for

Claude Lelouche’s “A Man and A Woman.”

Conor wears a concerned look, but goes and collapses on thebed next to the lump under the covers, stares up at theceiling...

ELEANOR(muffled from under thecovers)

What time is it?

CONORFive something.

Scattered voices and noise carries in from the streetbelow...

CONOR (CONT’D)(wondering)

Make it to class today?

ELEANOR(still muffled)

Uhuh.

A beat.CONOR

You okay?

Eleanor Rigby, now Eleanor Ludlow, surfaces...

ELEANORI sort of forgot how to fall asleeplast night.

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She starts to sit up and takes the covers off her. She wearsa pair of panties and an NYU t-shirt. Something’s changed inher face though. She looks worn, gaunt.

She remains there, gathering herself.

He rolls over toward her and reaches his fingers hopefullyinto the lining of her underwear just above her hip...

She doesn’t seem to register his touch...

ELEANORDon’t.

He pauses awkwardly, pulls away...they get stuck in a quiet moment.

ELEANOR (CONT’D)

I had this bizarre dream that you were having an affair.

CONOR(teasing)

How’d you guess?

ELEANORI’ve had it four times in the last month.

CONORWho am I having an affair with?

ELEANORI can never make out her face...Some vague girl with dark hair.

CONORMaybe it’s you.

ELEANORIt isn’t.

CONOR

I wouldn’t worry about it too much...Want to order some foodbefore I have to head back?

She looks at him then away, thinking...

ELEANORMaybe you should.

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CONORHuh?

ELEANORMaybe you should go have an affair.

He looks to her and can’t quite tell if she’s beingserious...

CONORWhat do you mean?

ELEANORI don’t know...Things haven’t beenparticularly chipper in here.

CONORWe’re getting by.

ELEANORI don’t want to keep tucking thingsaway, Conor. Pretending all’s welland good.

His brow furrows.

CONORHow did we get from food to this?

ELEANORCan you take this seriously for a

second?

CONORI don’t really want to take thisseriously for a second.

The phone rings.

Conor peeks over at it then back at her.

ELEANORIt could be a good thing, help

clear the air or at least shake usup a little bit.

Another ring.

CONORHow exactly does that clear theair?

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Maybe on your planet that works,but I mean, fucking around isn’tusually the best way to smooththings over.

Another ring.

CONOR (CONT’D)Are you gonna get that?

ELEANORYou get it if you want.

And another ring.

CONORI don’t want to get it.

ELEANOR

It’s probably your dad again.

It stops. A quiet couple seconds...

CONORIs that what you want?

ELEANORWhat?

CONORTo go fuck around?

ELEANORI don’t know what I want. No.

CONORJesus...is it?

ELEANOR(hard)

No.

She stands there, fragile.

Conor walks over to her and puts his arms around her, holdsher. She’s unresponsive as they stare over each other’sshoulders.

CONORAre we really doing this badly?

She releases from him.

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CONOR (cont'd)


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ELEANORConor, it’s been an impossible dayin an impossible month of animpossible fucking year, so pleasedon’t ask a retarded question like

that.

She walks out to the little hallway and into the bathroomleaving Conor standing pensively next to the empty space sheleft behind.

EXT. WEST VILLAGE - THE NEXT MORNING

It’s a stunning cool Saturday morning in the city.

Conor, carrying two coffees in one of those cardboard traysand what looks like a bag of muffins, walks up Bank Street, a

tree lined, cobble-stoned street of beautiful old townhouses.

He steps up to the black lacquered door of a handsomebrownstone. He listens. Some seventies rock like the Eaglesseems to play from a stereo somewhere nearby. Conor slightlyshakes his head, puts the coffee and bag down, reaches into anearby plant pot and procures a key...

INT. BRICK TOWNHOUSE - CONTINUOUS

Conor enters and the Eagles, “Life’s Been Good,” to be moreexact, is louder. Much louder.

The foyer opens to a living room. Tall ceilings, nice moldings. A Cy Twombly on the wall. Floor to ceilingbookshelves on the other wall. A modern dining room and aprobably rarely used stainless kitchen beyond it.

Conor hikes up a stairway to the left with the coffee towardthe music...

He reaches the top of the stairs and steps through a doorwayto the right into a den. The music is now deafening. Atelevision broadcasts Dr. Phil talking to a an unhappy

looking couple.A MAN, maybe sixty, disheveled graying hair, slouches into acouch in the middle of the room concealed behind the openpages of the Saturday New York Times, seemingly oblivious tothe volume of his music, Dr. Phil, and to Conor. He wears apair of pin-striped boxer shorts, socks, not much else.

Conor puts the coffee and bag down on a coffee table in frontof the man, and stands there, still unnoticed...

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He goes over to some built-in cabinets, adorned by art booksand picture frames, one with a photo of A COUPLE, an older man and younger woman, other photos with VARIOUS FRIENDSincluding one with the chef Alain Ducasse, and a photo aConor when he was maybe 5 dressed as a cowboy with a cap gun

on his hip.

Conor opens the cabinet up and reaches for the stereoreceiver to turn the volume down.

As the volume lowers, a faint pounding can be heard from theother side of the wall, then a faint voice...

VOICE BEHIND THE WALL (O.S.)Thank frickin’ God...! Asshole!

Dr. Phil becomes audible.

Conor sits down on a chair across from the man.

CONORWhat’s the paper saying today?

SPENCERApparently everyone’s going to dieof something.

He remains behind the paper.

CONORI heard about that.

SPENCERI can’t keep up with all this shit.The ice caps keep melting,something exploded in Baghdad, theDemocrats are a bunch of pussies,bird flu, Richard Serra’s openingat the MoMA, supposedly lime greenis the hot color for spring, thestupid Knicks lost again...My headfeels like it’s about to burst.

CONORYou could try reading without the music or the T.V...or both.

SPENCERI can’t stand the silence.

CONOR(moving on)

I brought you a latte.

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He places the cup of coffee on the table in front of him.

SPENCERI think my memory might beevaporating.

CONOR(ignoring him)

They were out of bran muffins, so Igot you a blueberry.

SPENCER LUDLOW, Conor’s father, folds down the paper. He’sbeginning to cross the threshold of the old. His good looksgoing soft, but there’s a faint glimmer lingering.

SPENCERI despise blueberries.

He reaches for the coffee, takes a sip.

CONOR(dry)

You’re in good spirits.

SPENCERI’m all I can offer...What are youdoing here, anyway?

CONOR(confused)

You left like ten messages saying

you needed to talk.

Spencer looks at him blankly.

SPENCERTold you. Evaporating. Time’srubbing me out.

He looks in the bag at the blueberry muffin. Grimaces.

CONORWhere’s Sylvie?

SPENCERWho?

He knows who.

CONORThat obnoxious French woman you married.

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Spencer goes back to reading the paper, puts his feet up onthe coffee table, then...

SPENCERShe wanted a change of scenery.

Conor lets this settle, surprised.

CONORWhen did that happen?

SPENCERI don’t know...two weeks ago.

Conor searches for the appropriate response...

CONORWow.

SPENCERI try not to get emotional aboutthese things. It helps me stayobjective.

CONORThat’s one way of doing it.

SPENCERI do much better alone anyway.

No he doesn’t.

CONOROkay.

Conor looks at him or what he can see of the man hidingbehind his paper.

CONOR (CONT’D)Why am I here?

SPENCERI need a new manager to run the

place...CONOR

(quickly)No.

SPENCERWill you let me finish?

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She passes FAMILIES taking Saturday morning strolls, someJOGGERS.

She notices the water taxi passing by on the river and thenturns west up Rivington Street.

EXT. WILLIAMSBURG BRIDGE - MINUTES LATER

Eleanor now bikes on the pedestrian path across the bridgetoward Brooklyn, a heaviness in her expression.

A SCRUFFY GUY on a skateboard cruises by, checks her out.

Eleanor continues toward the middle of the bridge then getsoff the bike and walks along with it.

A SEPTUAGENARIAN COUPLE in a somewhat heated discussion

shuffles toward her...

ELDERLY MAN...I’ve got no regrets about it.

ELDERLY WOMANWell, that’s your problem.

After they pass, Eleanor takes a few more steps and leans thebike against the railing.

Then she pushes herself up onto the railing on the side ofthe bridge. She gets her balance and hovers over the East

River...

AN AFRICAN AMERICAN GUY up ahead the walkway notices andbegins to run over to stop her...

THE GUYHey!?

A JERSEY GUY yells from a passing van...

JERSEY GUY IN VANDo it! Jump!

A FEW PEOPLE turn to look...

She takes a breath without looking down and decisivelyjumps...

As she falls, she faces back up, her arms outstretched...

It seems she’s reaching back, but she plummets away, gettingsmaller and smaller until splashing into the river below.

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EXT. 7TH STREET - LATE AFTERNOON

Conor walks down the street towards his building...

INT. CONOR AND ELEANOR’S APARTMENT - MOMENTS LATER

Conor enters into the foyer.

CONOREl...? You here...?

He steps into the living room, peeks around, realizes she’snot there...

He goes over to feed Ralph his fish food and watches himsurface for the little flakes...

He notices the answering machine blinking...

Then the phone rings...then again.

Conor reaches for it...

CONORHello?

EXT./INT. BETH ISRAEL HOSPITAL - LATER THAT EVENING

Conor runs up to a reception desk and looks to THE MIDDLEAGED RECEPTION LADY, a cross around her neck, next to a smallnearby T.V. broadcasting Access Hollywood and talking with aplacid, plain looking, MIDDLE AGED MAN in a white button downshirt, black slacks, holding some pamphlets and a Bible.

CONOREleanor Ludlow’s room, please.

The receptionist gives him a weird look, quickly shares alook with the plain man then glances back to her computer.

Conor notices this.She types into a nearby computer.

RECEPTIONISTRoom 2010. Second floor.

He runs off to the stairs.

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The PLAIN LOOKING MAN, AN EVANGELIST, watches him and thenlooks back to the receptionist, questioning.

EXT./INT. ROOM 2010 - MINUTES LATER

A DOCTOR opens the door, and lets Conor step in alone...

It’s a shared room, but the first bed’s empty...

He walks past a curtain that bisects the room and seesEleanor, flushed, hooked up to an I.V. drip in a bed next toa window without a much of a view. She looks off intonothing.

He stares at her, overwhelmed, not really sure what to do...

She looks over at him, slightly groggy, expressionless.

He leans down next to her, pushes her hair out of her face...

CONOR(attempting levity)

I figured you would’ve gone for theBrooklyn Bridge.

Nothing.

CONOR (CONT’D)(lovingly)

What the hell are you doing, El?

Again nothing.

CONOR (CONT’D)I can’t stand the silence so pleasejust say something.

After a second...

ELEANOR(softly)

I can’t do this anymore.

CONORYou can’t do what?

She looks at him, some tears, no sobs, not anxious for aconversation...

ELEANORI’m not going back to thatapartment. Ever.

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CONOROkay.

He has no idea what else to say.

ELEANORSome days everything seems okay,you know, but then I hit theafternoon and it all goes to shit.

CONORI know...I mean, I don’t know, but we’ll move. We can go where everyou want.

She looks to him, hesitant...

ELEANOR

I think you should spend some timeon your own.

CONORWhat?

ELEANORI think we should take a break.

CONORWhat do you mean “a break”?

ELEANOR

Don’t be stupid...I’ve beenthinking about it for a while.

CONOR(dry)

Since you survived a jump off abridge this morning?

He regrets having said that.

ELEANOR(harder)

Yes..., and for a couple monthsbefore that.

He thinks about this a moment, incredulous...

CONORI guess I’m noticing things lessthan I used to.

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ELEANORI guess so.

After a reflective beat, reality hits him...

CONORNo fucking way!

ELEANORThis can be pretty easy, Conor.We’re still on the young side, andthere’s more than a lot we haven’tdone...there’s all the scatteredscenery to see. I’ve never beenanywhere, and I feel like I’ve beenholding my breath for so long, waiting for something grand tohappen so I can forget the loss you

suppose you share with me.

CONOROkay...so let’s get the hell out ofhere, we’ll get a place outside thecity, or go to Paris, or trekthrough Mongolia or wherever...

ELEANOR(stopping him)

Conor.

CONOR

God damn it, El. You’ve been thestar of my life story since thesecond I first saw you...Don’t pickup and bail on me.

ELEANORPlease be cool about this.

CONORBe cool? How do you expect me toreact?! Gee, El, that soundsfuckin’ dandy, yeah let’s call it

quits, seems reasonable in thegrand scheme of the last sevenyears of my life.

ELEANORNo..., but I’m just some othergirl. I’ll age just like the restof them. You won’t miss me.

He squints at her like she’s insane...

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CONORWhat?!

She looks back him, silently pleading.

He thinks...

CONOR (CONT’D)So we’re just gonna fizzle intosome memory?

ELEANORI don’t know.

CONORYou can’t forget what you want toforget, El.

ELEANORThen I’ll distract myself.

He’s at a loss.

ELEANOR (CONT’D)I’ll spare telling you that it’sall for the best, that I only mean well and all that crap cause Idon’t really think that...

CONORWhat the hell do you think then?

ELEANORThe only way I can guess how to doany of this is if I start fromscratch...alone...try some otherversion of myself.

CONORThere’s no scratch, Eleanor. Lifekind of sticks around.

ELEANOR

Maybe, but this is what I want.CONOR

What if what you want is wrong?

She looks up at him trying to find the guy she thought sheused to know...

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ELEANORWhere have you been, Conor...?Where the fuck have you been forthe last six months...? Why does itfeel like I’ve had to do this all

alone?

He stares at her, taking a good moment, wondering the samething.

CONORI don’t know...I’ve been here withyou.

He knows he hasn’t.

She wears a sad, disappointed expression.

ELEANORLet me do this, Conor. Please? I’mnot asking you to understand, butif you actually care about me, let me do this..., don’t call myparents, don’t call a shrink, don’tfight me. Just let me disappear fora while.

He resigns against the wall and leaves a pause...

CONORSo, what happens now?

ELEANORYou walk out the door.

CONORAnd then?

ELEANORI don’t know...You’ll figure itout.

They remain there, stuck in mute.

INT. CONOR AND ELEANOR’S APARTMENT - LATER THAT AFTERNOON

Conor rests on his side sunken into the couch. He stares overat the Yankees game on their crappy, obsolete television.

The door buzzes.

Conor looks to it, but doesn’t move.

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It buzzes again.

He pushes himself up and heads over to the door.

He opens it to find the SAME placid, plain looking, MIDDLE

AGED EVANGELIST from the hospital in his white shirt andblack slacks. He holds a pamphlet.

CONOR(skeptical)

Hi.

PLAIN LOOKING MANI’m looking for Conor and EleanorLudlow?

He holds out the pamphlet to Conor...

Conor looks at him blankly, then at the pamphlet, takes itand reads the cover: “When Your Loss Seems Unbearable...”

He opens it. Inside there’s a softly drawn picture of JesusChrist.

Conor looks up at him, deadpan, as if he’s gone through thisbefore...

CONOR(calmly)

How did you get this address?

PLAIN LOOKING MANThe hospital.

Conor nods his head slightly, then after a beat...

CONOR(dry)

D’you think if I fall to my knees,everything will turn out all right?

The man looks at him, unsure.

PLAIN LOOKING MAN(pensive)Umm...well...losing a child isn’tan easy thing to explain.

CONOR(calmly)

What the fuck do I have to explain?

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Another uncertain look from the man as Conor stares throughhim, incredulous.

PLAIN LOOKING MANNothing. Nothing. Nothing at all. I

just wanted to give you this.

CONORYou know how many of you assholes we’ve had to deal with over thelast couple months?

PLAIN LOOKING MANUmm...No, I don’t.

Conor hands him back the pamphlet.

CONOR

I’d appreciate it if you’d fuckoff, thank you.

The man looks at him a second, almost says something else,decides against it, then retreats down the stairs.

Conor watches him go and retreats behind the door.

EXT./INT. THE MIDNIGHT KITCHEN - AFTER MIDNIGHT

Conor sits, gloomy, on a steel counter in the kitchenclutching a half drunken bottle of cheap Shiraz and eating a

piece of chicken satay from a skewer.

Stuart stands nearby in his chef’s jacket, smoking a joint,holding a mixing bowl, pretty shocked and thinking ofsomething appropriate to say, while the pans sizzle on arange.

It’s quiet for a couple moments...

STUARTBrutal.

Conor says nothing.STUART (CONT’D)

I’m pretty sure she wants you to goafter her.

CONORNo she doesn’t.

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STUARTMaybe give her a couple days, thengo after her.

CONOR

(irritated)Stu.

After a moment...

STUART(as delicate as possible)

I guess it was about time, though,right?.

CONORWill you shut the fuck up?!

STUARTI’m just trying to help you feelbetter. I don’t know what the hellto say. What do you say to that?

CONORDon’t say anything. Just have adrink and let’s talk about the weather.

Alexis strolls into the kitchen.

ALEXIS

The dude at table two says he’sgonna kick your ass if he doesn’tget his chicken satay soon.

STUARTTell him he can suck my balls.

ALEXISMight go over better if you tellhim yourself.

She hops up on the counter next to Conor, messes up his hair,

gives him a sympathetic kiss on the cheek, grabs the bottleof Shiraz and takes a pull.

Conor ignores her.

CONORI’ll deal with it.

He hops off the counter and walks out of the kitchen.

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Stuart and Alexis exchange glances as he steps out.

INT. MIDNIGHT KITCHEN DINING AREA - CONTINUOUS

Conor steps out of the kitchen and gets blasted by TheRaconteurs from the iPod in the D.J. booth.

The place is about half-filled with what some call “EMERGINGADULT” EAST VILLAGERS. TWO GUYS sit at the bar and pesterSia, who tends it and prepares a drink tray. She looks overto Conor...

SIA We’re out of beer.

He looks to her, shrugs, nothing he can do about it. He moveson, as Alexis makes her way back to the bar behind him.

Conor stops and surveys the place: Table two’s OCCUPANTS, allin their twenties, A DISAFFECTED GUY WITH LONGISH HAIR, ATALL LANKY GUY WITH A SOUL PATCH AND A BASEBALL CAP, A PUDGYGUY WITH A CREW CUT, AND A GIRL WITH BANGS, look like they’rein an indie rock band, and attempt coolness to the point itpisses you off with their funky t-shirts, tatoos, and trendyjackets. They sit toward the front of the bar in heavyconversation.

A COUPLE, obviously in the throes of a new relationship,flirts at another table.

Sia passes through with some Vodka tonics for them.

Conor stands there a second longer when an ice cube comesflying across the room and hits him in the temple...

He winces, rubs his head...then looks to the source over atnone other than table two.

The longish haired guy, who threw the ice cube, shoots Conora look and a questioning gesture with open hands.

Conor walks over to the table, holding onto his composure...

CONOR(over the music)

What’s your problem?

LONG HAIRED GUY(pretending not to hearhim)

Huh?

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CONORYour problem? What is it?

LONG HAIRED GUYYeah, where’s our fucking food,

guy?

Conor looks at him, annoyed.

CONORIt’ll be here, guy.

LONG HAIRED GUYYou said that like a month ago.

CONORIt’s coming...(adding) and I’dappreciate it if you didn’t

threaten my chef.

Conor turns to head back to the kitchen.

LONG HAIRED GUYWhat was that, shithead?

Conor stops, shedding his composure, turns back.

CONORI said don’t threaten my chef,asshole, or I’ll drop kick you outthe fucking door...You’ll get your

food when it’s God damn good andready.

The long haired guy reflects disbelief...

LONG HAIRED GUYAre you fucking kidding me?

CONORNot that I know of.

The guy stands and looks at him squarely. ONE OF HIS FRIENDS,

the TALL LANKY GUY in a “Where the Wild Things Are” t-shirt,reaches to calm him.

CONOR (CONT’D)Sit down.

LONG HAIRED GUYFuck you.

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The long haired guy shoves him, and with that, Conor takeshim by the lapels of his trendy jacket and slams him againstthe wall...mayhem ensues.

EVERYBODY explodes from TABLE TWO and rushes into the clumsy

scuffle.

The PUDGY GUY grabs Conor and throws him across the tableknocking over cocktails and shattering glasses...

Sia runs over to try to settle things down, but can’t reallydo anything...

Conor gets up from the floor, hurdles toward the pudgy guy,and is met by the long haired and lanky guys. They pounce onhim, knock him to the floor...

Conor reaches and pulls one of them down with him...

Alexis makes her way from the bar...

Stuart pops out from the kitchen to find out what the hell’sgoing on and sees the dogfight in the middle of therestaurant.

They run over to try and break it up.

INT. THE MIDNIGHT KITCHEN - LATER THAT NIGHT

Conor holds a bar towel full of ice over his left eye...

Alexis sits on the bar next to him, reaches for the towel andscowls at his black eye beneath it.

Stuart finishes sweeping up leftover glass on the floor.

Sia cleans up the bar.

SIA We should probably consider hiringa bouncer.

CONORWe can’t afford a bouncer.

STUARTThe cops showing up was decentpublicity.

SIA Yeah, there were like fortybystanders.

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CONORI appreciate the optimism.

STUARTWrong choices can produce right

results.

CONORYeah, and the other way around.

ALEXISYou sound like my grandparents.

A pause as Stuart continues sweeping.

ALEXIS (CONT’D)Want an Advil or something?

CONORYou can skip the bogus compassion.

ALEXISThat’s a bit aggressive.

CONORI’m sort of in a shitty mood.

ALEXISWell, we’re adapting.

Conor looks to Alexis, at the end of his rope for the day.

CONOREveryone get out of here.

Everyone stops and looks at him...

CONOR (CONT’D)Go home. I’ll deal with the rest.

STUARTAre you sure you’re okay to...?

CONOR(hard)Good night.

They exchange awkward looks and go for their jackets, bags,things.

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EXT. THE MIDNIGHT KITCHEN - EARLY MORNING

The long dark moments linking night and dawn.

Conor pulls his bag onto his shoulder and locks the frontdoor of the restaurant...then heads up the sidewalk towardhome...

New York seems empty for the time being and he steps into theAvenue...

He walks across the abandoned street, Tompkins Square Parkoff to the right.

INT. CONOR AND ELEANOR’S APARTMENT - MINUTES LATER

Conor opens the door and steps into the dark apartment. Heputs his bag down then heads to the bedroom.

He flips on the light and looks at the empty bed.

He turns away and goes back into the living room. He grabsthe phone and dials...It goes directly to a recorded voice...

AUTOMATED VOICE (O.S.)The Cingular Wireless number youhave dialed is not in service...

He hangs up, tosses the phone across the room and it clatters

along the ground.

He surveys the apartment, Ralph in his fishbowl, the boxes infront of the closet in the foyer, his and Eleanor’s stuff.

He stands there at a loss...

INT. HALLWAY OUTSIDE CONOR AND ELEANOR’S APARTMENT - THE NEXTDAY

Conor, unshaven and with his black eye, stands in the musty

off-white stairwell outside his front door with the BUILDINGMANAGER, EZRA, a Hasidic Jew in a suit.

CONOR...You can’t be serious?

EZRA Sure I can. I’m not letting youbreak the lease without a month’snotice.

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CONORThat’s ridiculous.

EZRA Life’s ridiculous...and it’s

contractual.

Conor breaths a little exasperation...

CONORMotherfucker.

EZRA Watch your mouth.

Conor looks at him, surprised.

CONOR

Sorry.

He looks back into the place.

CONOR (CONT’D)I’m not staying here.

Ezra observes Conor and attempts a sympathetic look, knowing what Conor’s been through, and thinks about it...

EZRA How about...you use it as storage?Pay me the rent, move everything

out in a month.

CONORIs that a possibility?

EZRA I could make an exception.

CONOROh...thanks.

Conor remains there thinking a moment in front of him then

turns and heads back into the apartment.

EXT. WEST VILLAGE - EVENING

Conor turns off of sparsely populated Hudson Street and walks west down Bank Street wearing a pair of Wayfarer sunglassesto cover his bruised eye. He lugs an old duffle bag, hisshoulder bag, and carries Ralph in his fish bowl with plastic wrap over it.

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He steps up to his father’s building, puts down the bag andgoes to the plant pot for the key...

INT. SPENCER’S TOWNHOUSE - CONTINUOUS

Conor pulls his stuff through the door and puts it down...

He pushes his sunglasses onto his head, looks up and seesSpencer, in a Valentino suit and shirt standing ahead in thekitchen eating a bowl of Cheerios.

Spencer stops mid-bite and looks at his son, with the blackeye and his things, standing in the entry way.

He wipes his mouth on his shirt sleeve and steps out of thekitchen, taking the temperature of the situation.

CONORI thought I could stay here for alittle bit.

Spencer looks at the fish bowl in Conor’s arms, then after apause...

SPENCERHey Ralph.

Spencer continues to study Conor, who remains theredeadpan...

SPENCER (CONT’D)You know where the guest bedroomis?

CONORYup.

SPENCERTowels are in the closet in thehallway...there’s not much in thefridge. I got some Cheerios.

CONORI can get some stuff.

They stand there in what seems like a wordless understanding.

SPENCERI’ve gotta head to the restaurant.

CONOROkay.

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Spencer walks past him, grabs his keys...

SPENCERNight.

He heads out the door.

CONORNight.

Conor stands there a moment, grabs his duffle bag and haulsit and the fish bowl up the stairs.

EXT./INT. 9TH STREET MARKET - A LATE SUNDAY MORNING

Alexis stands outside with Sia on the sidewalk having a smokenear some PEOPLE WAITING OUTSIDE for a table...

CONOR (O.S.)...No clue where she is. She turnedoff her cell phone service and likethat she’s gone.

Inside, Conor, sunglasses on his head, the eye still bruised,his stubble growing, sits across from Stuart over some platesof scrambled eggs and coffee at the front table next to the window in the busy restaurant.

STUARTNo comment.

Stuart takes a bite of toast.

CONORKnock it off.

STUART(with a mouthful of food)

I’m invoking my fifth amendmentrights. I pretended to try and behelpful the other night and look what happened.

CONORI was off balance, but with somehindsight I think I can deal a bitbetter.

STUARTA couple days qualifies ashindsight?

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CONORFuckin’ A, Stu.

STUARTI got nothing for you.

CONORI’m asking you a simple question.You don’t have to dance around itlike you’re gonna hurt my feelings.

STUARTWith the exception of my dog, I’venever woken up next to someone for more than three days in a row,Conor, so I’m not sure how I cansay anything near relevant to yoursituation.

Conor glares at him...

CONORI opened a restaurant for you,asshole.

STUARTYou opened it for you, andaccording to the Village Voice,it’s “a bar with uninspired food.”

CONOR

Whatever. I fight for its life foryou and I’m incurring the cost ofan extra waitress cause she “lookedat you the right way.”

STUARTI thanked you, didn’t I?

CONORI’m not asking for some new agey,psychoanalytical bullshit. I’masking for my friend’s opinion even

if it’s an uninformed piece ofcrap.

Conor waits for it.

Stuart ponders what to say...

STUART(quoting Pat Benatar)

We are young.

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Heartache to heartache, we stand.No promises no demands...Love is abattlefield.

Conor shoots him a sharp look...

CONORYou’re a fucking idiot.

Stuart shakes his head slightly, at a loss...

STUARTI feel like I’m walking oneggshells...

Conor squints at him questioningly.

STUART (CONT’D)I’ve tried talking to you about

this over the however many monthsit’s been, but that hasn’t exactlyflown on multiple occasions...I’mnot really sure how to be yourfriend anymore, hasn’t been theeasiest thing...You’re no fuckingpicnic. So, I’m just here. I’ll sithere and just shut the hell up.

CONORI asking you now.

Stuart looks down into his coffee cup, on the spot, summoning

the courage...

STUARTTo be completely honest, you guysnot making it kind of makes senseto me...

Conor looks up at him, blasted, but keeps it close to hisvest.

STUART (CONT’D)...And anyone who flirts with

extinction i.e. Eleanor, shouldprobably do what they need to do inorder to get their life in order.

Conor holds his stare a moment...

CONORThank you.

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STUARTYou’re welcome.

Conor looks off in thought for a second, glassy eyed.

Stuart looks uncomfortably at him.

CONORI don’t want to end up one of thosepeople who grabs at all thepointless, trivial crap in life andlet’s all the really importantthings slip away.

STUARTSo don’t.

Stuart takes a sip of coffee, looks at him, gauging, then

gives in...

STUART (CONT’D)I saw her on the street the otherday on my way to lunch.

CONORWhere?!

STUARTUnion Square.

CONOR

Did you talk to her?

STUARTNope, she didn’t see me. I thinkshe might have been heading toclass. She had her books and allthat.

CONORWhy didn’t you tell me?!

STUART

Because...well, I just did.Sia and Alexis come back to the table.

The guys go quiet.

Alexis, big round sunglasses resting on her head, sits nextto Conor, gives him a smile.

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ALEXISWhatcha guys talking about?

Sia sits on the bench next to Stuart and leans her backagainst him.

STUARTThe weather.

EXT. THE NEW SCHOOL - THE NEXT AFTERNOON

Conor sits across the street from the Albert List AcademicCenter near 14th Street on Fifth Avenue.

He still sports the sunglasses, still hasn’t shaved. A cup ofDean & Deluca coffee rests on the step next to him, and hesort of hides behind a Village Voice.

He studies the building’s front door as STUDENTS and TEACHERSof varying ages flow in and out...

And then Eleanor appears, a dark somber star in the midst ofit all, taking his breath away for a second...

She buttons her green jacket up then slings her shoulder bagover her head.

Conor stands clumsily, knocking over his coffee, leaving itthere and watching her walk uptown...

He starts to follow her on the opposite side of the street.

She turns onto 14th Street and heads east.

Conor rushes across the intersection darting between taxis.

EXT. UNION SQUARE - MOMENTS LATER

The area swarms with PEDESTRIANS and VENDORS.

Conor continues to tail her up Union Square West past some

STUDENT PROTESTERS milling about and accosting people with“Enough is Enough” and “Bring them home” signs...

He stays a little ways behind her as they pass the CoffeeShop on Union Square West, occasionally stopping to adjusthis pace in order not to get too close.

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He looks ahead at her dark hair pulled back in a knot, herjacket with the collar up - It’s possible he forgot what hercool elegant steps looked like after years of closeproximity.

When they reach the top of Union Square just past theStarbucks, she crosses the crosswalk and heads down into thesubway station...

Conor stops a couple yards from the top of the stairs for a moment and thinks about what he’s doing...

Then, he lets her disappear.

INT. GUEST ROOM, SPENCER’S TOWNHOUSE - NIGHT

The Velvet Underground’s “Rock & Roll” seeps loudly under the

guest room door.

Rain taps against the windows. The guest room is FrenchModern, twin beds, some prints hang on the wall. It feelslike it was decorated with a woman’s touch. A bedside clockreads 5:03 p.m. Ralph swims in the fishbowl on the bedsidetable between the beds...

Conor’s eyes open from a nap. He sits up on the bed closestto the window and gets his bearings. His eye remains bruised.He still hasn’t shaved and the pillow left an indent in hisface. His hair is frazzled and he’s fully clothed from whatever he did earlier in the day.

His duffle bag slumps on a nearby chair, yet to be unpacked,some clothes spilling out.

He stands up, heads to the door, and gets blasted by LouReed’s voice in the hallway.

He heads down the hall until he reaches the den and peersin...

INT. THE DEN - CONTINUOUS

He sees the back of Spencer’s head as he reads the paper, the music plays, and a commercial for Valtrex airs on thetelevision. An open bottle of Macallan stands on the tablenext to an glass with a finger of Scotch still in it.

Conor groggily walks over to the cabinet, turns the stereodown, and stands there for a moment.

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The commercial becomes audible...it shows COUPLES on bikerides and walking on the beach, smiling, while the voice overdiscusses vaginal herpes.

Conor observes his father, recently showered in a button down

and boxers...

Spencer folds down his paper, peers over at his son, hisfrazzled hair...

SPENCERI’m not here to approve ordisapprove, just so you know.

CONORHuh?

SPENCER

Your mother always gave me crap fornever stepping up to the plate.

Conor looks at him, confused.

CONORWhat?

SPENCERShe thought I never stepped up.

CONORWhat does that have to do with

anything?

SPENCERYou’re a bit like me.

CONOR(annoyed at the comment)

No...I’m not.

Spencer gives him a wooden look then glances to the paper,and then back to Conor to make another attempt.

SPENCERSo...what else?

CONORWe don’t have to keep talking.

SPENCERYou’re the one who came in here.

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CONORTo turn down your stupid music.

SPENCER(stern)

I like it loud.

CONOROkay, let’s not get into a row overit.

SPENCERLook, everyday I try to do onething that makes me happy, to makelife nice, and usually that’slistening to my stupid music andreading the stupid paper. It’s thebest way I’ve found to get along

with myself, so you can head backto the guest room and count theraindrops.

Conor looks at him, confused again.

CONORCount the raindrops?

Spencer sees his reaction, while another commercial comes onfor some airline showing picturesque views of Asia, Europe,etcetera in the background.

SPENCERI’ve never been too good at thistype of thing.

CONORWhat type of thing?

SPENCERNever mind...

Spencer looks away a moment then attempts to explain...

SPENCER (CONT’D)You shouldn’t consider it your jobto investigate the expanse of memory called “the past” and judge what was correct and what wasn’t.

CONORWhat the hell are you talkingabout?

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SPENCERYou shouldn’t be interested inregretting things.

CONOR

I’m not.

Conor remains a moment, his brow furrowed in confusion at theencounter...then he goes over to the cabinet, turns the musicback up and walks out of the room.

Spencer, also confused, watches him go.

EXT. SECOND AVENUE - THE NEXT DAY

Conor walks with a glazed look amidst the multitude of FOOTTRAFFIC down the sidewalk...

His cell phone rings its annoying ring tone as he walks bythe Orpheum Theater. He pulls it out of his pocket, looks atthe I.D., and picks it up...

CONORWhat’s up, Stu?

INT. COSI SANDWICH CAFE - SAME TIME

Stu speaks into an earpiece while sitting in front of a halfeaten sandwich. He hides behind a copy of Cosmopolitan

Magazine and tries to be discreet at a table in the cornerlooking across the room at Eleanor ordering.

STUARTI’m looking at her right now.

INTERCUT BETWEEN CONOR AND STUART

CONORWhat are you talking about?

STUART

Your wife is ordering a sandwichacross the room from me. Chickensalad, I think.

CONORAre you stalking her or something?

STUARTNo. We just happen to enjoy thesame sandwich establishment.

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STUARTYou ran over here, but you guysseparated because she needed tospend the rest of her life awayfrom you?

CONORIt was my first reaction.

Stuart furrows his brow in curiosity.

STUARTWhat are you doing, Ludlow?

CONORI’m not quite sure.

EXT. THE COFFEE SHOP - THE NEXT AFTERNOON

Conor’s parked at a table outside the Union Square staple. He wears his sunglasses, pretends to read an issue of the DailyNews, and sits in front of an untouched glass of Coke.

WAITRESSAre you ever gonna order some food,cause otherwise I need the table?

A WAIFISH WAITRESS stands over him.

CONOR

Yeah, no, I’m just still waitingfor someone.

She glares at him and then steps away to attend to someSLASHIES (model/actors) at a nearby table.

Conor goes back to watching the pedestrian traffic intently,the throngs of NEW YORKERS, SOME NYU STUDENTS drinkingcoffee, DEMOCRATIC NATIONAL COMMITTEE VOLUNTEERS soliciting,SHOPPERS, BUSINESS PEOPLE typing into Blackberries,MESSENGERS...

And then he sees Eleanor appear between a small cluster ofPEOPLE...

She walks by with her book bag over her green jacket, andpasses heading down towards the New School.

Conor makes his move.

As he’s about to step away...

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WAITRESSHey! Dude!

Conor turns and sees the waitress holding up his check.

CONORRight. Sorry.

He reaches into his jeans’ pocket, pulls out some bills andgives her a few crumpled singles, then he steps onto thestreet and looks to the right for Eleanor.

He hurries down the street, peering ahead to find her...hebumps shoulders with A GUY WITH HEADPHONES on...

CONOR(looking back)

Excuse me.

He continues and then he sees her...

She’s about fifteen yards in front of him. He slows down andlags behind to follow her.

He notices A FEW GUYS eye her as she walks by them...

She stops at a crosswalk and Conor abruptly banks right andpretends to look into a nearby Wine Store window.

Eleanor turns to look behind her then looks back ahead. Thelight turns green and she walks on.

Conor resumes tailing her.

Eventually she turns onto 14th Street and walks up and in tothe entrance of the Albert List Academic Center at the NewSchool.

Conor watches her walk through the doors...

And then proceeds after her.

INT. ALBERT LIST ACADEMIC CENTER - CONTINUOUSHe walks into the lobby, bypassing the reception area, andnotices her heading, along with a swarm of OTHER STUDENTS,through some double doors ahead.

He heads for them...

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INT. LECTURE HALL - CONTINUOUS

Conor steps into the large sunken tiered space, probably twohundred seats, almost half filled.

GRADUATE STUDENTS climb down stairs and find their seats, which face down at a chalk board and a desk.

Conor sees Eleanor cross the room as she works her way into arow of seats.

Worrying that she might see him, he crosses to the oppositeaisle, waits for her to settle then finds a spot a number ofrows above her...

He watches her sit and take out her notebook...

A LATE TWENTIES PREPPY TYPE GUY, attempting to be smooth, walks into Eleanor’s row and takes the seat next to her,giving her a quick look as he does.

She gives him a gratuitous grin then stands and moves over aseat.

Conor enjoys this.

A SIXTY-SOMETHING HAPHAZARDLY DRESSED WOMAN, the professor,scurries down the stairs and drops her bag and a big plasticbottle of Diet Coke on the desk in front of the black board.She looks to the class as she takes out her notebooks...

PROFESSORLet’s do this.

INT. LECTURE HALL - A BIT LATER

Conor, dazed by the lecture on the Methods of CulturalCriticism, looks to his left and then to AN ANALYTICALLOOKING STUDENT just in front of him to the right and tapshim on the shoulder.

CONOR(hushed)Do you have some paper and a pen Icould borrow?

The guy turns to look at Conor, impassively. He reluctantlysnaps open his three ring binder to take out a piece ofpaper, reaches for a pen out of his computer bag, and passesthem over his shoulder in a slightly annoyed manner.

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CONOR (CONT’D)Thanks.

Conor writes something, folds it twice and writes somethingelse on the front of it.

He taps the analytical guy on the shoulder again who turns alittle bit more annoyed this time.

ANALYTICAL GUY(hushed)

What?!

Some GRAD STUDENTS glare.

CONORCan you pass this toward that girldown there?

Conor points ahead to Eleanor.

The guy turns back to him and gives him an “Are you anidiot?” look.

CONOR (CONT’D)Please?

Hesitantly, the guy turns and taps THE KOREAN AMERICAN GIRLdiagonally in front of him who gives the analytical guy a weird look. He refers her to Conor then she gives the look tohim.

Conor clasps his hands together in a sign of pleading.

The girl relents and passes it diagonally ahead to A BEARDEDTHIRTYSOMETHING STUDENT in glasses and a V-neck who looks ather like she’s crazy, and then obliges after she points up toConor.

Conor gives him a hopeful, gratuitous smile.

Then the bearded guy reaches and taps Eleanor on the shoulder with the note in his hand.

She turns and looks at him and the note, mildly disgruntled.She takes the piece of paper and sees her name written on thefront...

She opens it...

It reads “Hi.”

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She turns to look behind her with a puzzled expression, whichturns toward anger when she eventually notices Conor six rowsbehind her.

He raises his hand in a placid hello-like gesture.

She turns away and sits there a good moment staring ahead...

Then, out of frustration, she shoves her things into her bag,sidesteps out of her row and makes her way out of theclassroom.

The STUDENTS who helped Conor pass the note observecuriously.

Conor makes his way out of his row and hustles up the stairsto catch up with her.

INT. ALBERT LIST ACADEMIC CENTER LOBBY - MOMENTS LATER

Conor runs up behind Eleanor.

CONORHey?

She ignores him and hurries through the lobby.

They walk at a quick pace side by side.

Conor searches for something to say...

Eleanor tries to escape...

EXT. ALBERT LIST ACADEMIC CENTER - CONTINUOUS

She bursts out the door followed by Conor into the lateafternoon.

He chases her up Fifth Avenue toward the curb at 14th Street.

CONOR

Hey Rigby!She turns hard.

ELEANORWhat the fuck are you doing?!

SOME PEDESTRIANS are surprised and rubberneck as they pass.

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CONORI barely got a chance to respond toyou the other day before you wentAWOL.

ELEANORWhat did I ask you, Conor?

CONORJust let me talk for a second.

ELEANORWhat did I ask you?!

CONORGive me a God damned second!

ELEANOR

I’ve given you plenty of seconds!So do me a favor and please leave me alone!

Conor stops and looks at her, slightly devastated...

CONORFine!

He abruptly turns, walks obliviously onto the crosswalk andinto traffic on Fifth Avenue...

Eleanor glances to see him go...

A taxi hits its breaks, screeches, but not quite in enoughtime to stop from shellacking Conor and bouncing him off thehood and onto the ground.

ELEANORConor...!! Shit!

She hurries to him in the Avenue.

THE UKRAINIAN CABBIE hops out and runs in front of his cab.He surveys the minimal damage and looks to Conor groaning on

the asphalt.CABBIE

(accented)Are you fucking stupid?!!

Eleanor kneels down next to him.

ELEANORConor...?

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He’s dazed, bleeding from his nose, and looks up at herbefore fading out.

EXT. 14TH STREET AND FIFTH AVENUE - A LITTLE LATER - EVENING

Flashing lights...

Conor foggily squats on the curb as A PARAMEDIC dabs at hisbloody nose and leaves him with an ice pack on his head then walks back to her nearby ambulance.

A police cruiser sits behind it. COPS question the cabbie.

BYSTANDERS in the background can’t help but peer over at thecommotion and gossip about what might have happened.

Eleanor sits down next to Conor on the curb.

ELEANOR(gently, almost teasing,echoing the taxi driver)

Are you fucking stupid?

CONORPretty much.

He looks over at her, sees a big piece of lint or somethingon her shoulder. He reaches to remove it.

She flinches.

He shows her the piece of lint and blows it off hisfingers...

CONORI thought you needed a change ofscenery?

ELEANORI figured I’d spent two yearstrying to get my friggin’ Masters, might as well finish the

thing...get past existence as aperpetual student first.

CONORHow are the methods of culturalcriticism?

ELEANORThey’re fine.

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A beat.

CONORWhere have you been staying?

ELEANORNone of your business.

They share a pause.

ELEANOR (CONT’D)Is that what you so desperatelyneeded to say to me?

CONORNo.

ELEANOR

What was it then?

Another beat.

CONORI was gonna say something reallygood that would have solved ourproblems and made everything allbetter, but I’ve forgotten what it was.

She looks at him, hints at a sad smile then smothers it.

ELEANORThat’s too bad.

CONORYeah, it is.

After a moment.

ELEANORI’m gonna go.

CONOR

I just want some time to talk itout, El..., and then you candisappear to wherever it is youdisappear to.

Eleanor looks at him, pensive...

The paramedic comes back over.

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PARAMEDICYou ready sir?

He’s shaky at best.

CONORI was born ready.

The paramedic helps him up and leads him to the ambulance. ASECOND MEDIC helps him in...

Eleanor remains there, as stoic as possible, watching themload him up.

Conor looks to her from inside the ambulance.

CONOR (CONT’D)See you round?

Eleanor pensive, doesn’t answer.

CONOR (CONT’D)Can I keep stalking you?

ELEANORGoodbye, Conor.

They shut the ambulance doors and it drives off.

She pulls herself together, and walks away.

EXT. ABE LEBEWOHL PARK, EAST VILLAGE - A COUPLE AFTERNOONSLATER

A gorgeous day in May.

Conor, with a few leftover bruises, a band aid on hisforehead, speaks into his cell-phone as he moseys by thesmall park by St. Marks...

CONOR(into phone)

...No...You don’t have to candycoat it, just get to the point,please...Well, is there any way for me to bootstrap it...? How aboutlike negotiating a trade credit onsome of the operating expenses...?Come on, throw me a bone...Yougotta be fucking kidding me...?

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I don’t have one written at the moment, no...That’s justglorious...No, no, I understand,I’ll go play the fuckin’ lottery.(aside) Fuck me!

AN OVERWEIGHT MIDDLE AGED LADY shoots him a cross look as hepasses by her.

Conor turns back to her.

CONORSorry.

He goes back to the phone.

CONOR (CONT’D)No, no, not you...Yes...I get it, Iget it...How long do I have...?

Fine... Let me call you tomorrowand we’ll work out the logistics...yeah...Sure.

He hangs up the phone, shaking his head in disbelief.

CONOR (CONT’D)(to himself)

Unreal.

He puts the phone in his pocket and walks off toward his bar.

INT. THE MIDNIGHT KITCHEN - LATE NIGHT

The place is empty with the exception of Conor and company.

Teddybears with Iggy Pop or something like them plays fromthe D.J. booth.

Stuart puts on his coat and gives Sia a nod toward the dooror the international sign for “let’s get the hell out of hereand go back to my place.”

She goes for her coat.

STUARTIt’s been real, everyone.

Alexis wipes down the bar.

ALEXISNo, it hasn’t.

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Stuart veers toward Conor, in his reading glasses and sittingat a table doing paperwork, tallying up receipts, numbers.

He pats him on the head.

CONOROww.

STUARTSlow night.

CONORA couple people came in to use thebathroom.

STUARTHow we doing?

CONORAside from officially being anendangered species? Not too good.

STUARTCan you translate that for me?

CONORFriday’s the only night we’repulling in any cash. I’ve been lateon bills...We’re not covering theoverhead.

Stuart sort of knows what he’s talking about, and nods.

STUARTI see.

A couple seconds...

CONORYou got a plan B?

Alexis looks over at them, listening in.

STUARTBurger King.

CONORSeriously.

STUARTUm, can we not do this right now?

He glances, indicating Sia waiting by the door.

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Conor grins, cynically.

CONORDo I actually have a choice?

STUARTNo.

Stuart winks at Conor, then he heads to the front and ushersSia out the door in front of him. He turns back to Conor...

STUART (CONT’D)I believe.

CONORIn what?

STUART

A higher power...can you hear it?

CONORNot at the moment.

SIA Later.

Conor watches them go.

Alexis bobs to the music, again glances over to Conor.

ALEXIS

I’ve got a plan B.

CONOR(ignoring her)

You can go home now.

She walks over and sits down on a chair next to Conor. Shelooks at the scribbling on the accounting spreadsheets on thetable...then at him.

ALEXISI’m applying to Law School.

CONORWhy would you do that?

ALEXISSeems more impressive than pouringdrinks, and given everything that’sgoing on here and now, I figuredI’d throw in my two cents.

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CONORMend the nation’s wounds?

ALEXISYou can’t just shrug everything

off.

CONORSure you can.

She gives him a wry grin, shakes her head at his pessimism...

CONOR (CONT’D)What happened to your life in thearts?

ALEXISI’ll probably faze it into a Sunday

afternoon hobby kind of thing...andI think it’s sort of indecent tohave things so worked out, thatthey wind up like you thought they would.

Conor looks up at her, struck by what she just said.

Alexis takes note of his seriousness...

ALEXIS (CONT’D)You gonna be okay?

CONORProbably.

ALEXISWe’re living in a world full ofprobablys.

CONORYes we are.

She watches him as he remains absorbed in his paperwork.

ALEXISWell, I’m a decent listener if youever want to talk about whatever.

CONORTalking about whatever’s overrated.I prefer to let things stew inside me and then have the occasionalviolent outburst.

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She hints a smile, but doesn’t answer...He looks up to her.

Then she leans in and kisses him. He doesn’t kiss back.

She stops and looks at him.

CONOR (CONT’D)Why’d you do that?

ALEXISJust seemed like the nextinteresting thing to do.

Conor looks at her blankly.

CONORI’m sort of married.

She returns a skeptical look.

ALEXISYeah...well, I don’t mind.

CONORI kind of mind.

ALEXISNobody’s looking.

CONORMaybe in some other life.

She looks at him gently then kisses him again...

He leans away...

CONORStop it.

ALEXISWhen’s the last time you had aproper shagging?

She steps over his chair and sits on his lap facing him. Hedoesn’t stop her.

She takes the glasses off his eyes, looks at him...thenkisses him some more...

He goes with it a bit longer this time...then stops again...

CONORI can already taste the regret.

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ALEXISStop thinking. It’s not healthy.

She kisses him again, reaches for his belt.

CONORAlexis.

ALEXISYes?

CONORTomorrow’s going to be awkward.

ALEXISProbably.

She kisses him again.

INT. THE MIDNIGHT KITCHEN - EARLY MORNING

An hour before the sun shows its face...

Conor, rumpled, sits alone against the wall clutching anotherempty bottle of cheap Shiraz, a look of disgust hangs on hisface...

He looks around the abandoned late night eatery...

Then he chucks the bottle across the room and it shatters on

the opposite wall.

EXT. BANK STREET - LATER THAT MORNING

Another lovely day in May.

Conor, dark circles under his eyes, walks under the treecanopy on Bank Street, squinting into the sidewalk ahead ofhim.

He steps up to Spencer’s townhouse, opens the front door, and

enters...

INT. SPENCER’S TOWNHOUSE, GUEST ROOM - MOMENTS LATER

Conor walks into the guest room and looks up to see Spencersitting on one of the beds, unshaven, dishevelled...

Spencer looks up, surprised to see Conor, still unshaven,looking pretty dishevelled himself...

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CONOR (CONT’D)What’s a two month old babysupposed to do with a fucking fish?Not only were we dealing with dirtydiapers, but we had to look after

this fucking thing.

Spencer looks uncomfortable, slightly shrugs, then looks backto the fishbowl...

Conor gathers himself...

SPENCERWhat do we do with him?

Conor looks to his dad, not sure.

EXT. HUDSON RIVER PARK - A BIT LATER

They walk across the Hudson River Drive and into the manicured park on the edge of the river looking over at NewJersey.

SOME PEOPLE walk their dogs. SOME read on benches. SOME takea stroll.

Conor carries a little cardboard box in his hands.

His father walks next to him, squinting somberly into the sunahead.

Conor peeks over at him...

CONORIs something wrong with you?

SPENCERMost likely...Why do you ask?

CONORAll the reflective talk the othernight was a tad weird.

SPENCERI suppose I’d hit the sauce alittle hard.

CONORYou’re not dying or something, areyou?

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SPENCERNot that I know of...

Conor looks at him inquisitively then looks ahead.

SPENCER (CONT’D)I forgot my name the other day,though.

CONORWhat do you mean?

SPENCERI was in Starbucks ordering acoffee and the guy behind thecounter said, “Your name, sir?” AndI just stood there stuck in ablank. No idea who I was for a good

minute until all I could do was walk out.

CONORI’m sure that happens to a lot ofpeople.

Spencer looks ahead...

SPENCERI’m on my way to seniorcitizenship.

CONORYeah, that sucks.

SPENCEROn a clear day, I can actually seethe end of my life staring me inthe face, heckling me.

CONORSee, that’s weird.

They reach the riverside and hover above it on the park’s

ledge.SPENCER

Seriously, it’s fucking bizarre.You turn the corner of your streetone day, everything’s changed andyou barely noticed it happen...It’sall been sucked away into somecosmic vacuum cleaner...

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CONORWhat would that be?

SPENCERWe all know a little something

about sadness or grief or whateveryou want to call it.

CONORYeah, well, I wanted less of it.

After a second, Conor’s brow furrows...

CONOR (CONT’D)How’s that nice?

SPENCERThere’s this new thing called

empathy.

CONORJust because I’m crashing with youdoesn’t mean we all of sudden haveto become pals.

SPENCERNo, it doesn’t...

After an uncomfortable few seconds...

SPENCER (CONT’D)

(making an attempt)Have you talked to her at all?

CONOR(seeing through him)

No.

Conor, avoiding the subject, looks at the box...

CONOR (CONT’D)Shall we do this?

SPENCERDo we say a couple words forclosure’s sake?

CONORDoes that really ever closeanything?

Spencer glimpses at him.

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SPENCERNo.

Conor holds the box containing Ralph over the Hudson and thenlet’s it drop. It falls and falls and lands with a smack on

the river below.

Conor and Spencer watch it float off.

EXT. UNION SQUARE SUBWAY STATION - THE NEXT DAY

Conor stands in front of the same staircase that Eleanordescended into the Subway when he first followed her.

He descends down into the station.

INT. GRAND CENTRAL TRAIN STATION - LATER

Conor squeezes his way off the subway through the crowd and makes his way quickly through the station.

INT. GRAND CENTRAL TRAIN STATION - MINUTES LATER

Conor walks down a platform and hops on a train bound forStamford, CT, indicated by the monitor.

INT. TRAIN - A BIT LATER

Conor looks out at the passing scenery, the urban turninginto suburban then rural...

EXT. THE STREET IN FRONT OF A COLONIAL HOUSE - LATER

He steps out from a cab and walks up the gravel driveway ofthe pretty, white, two story clapboard house surrounded bylawn and some maple trees.

He walks up the front step onto a porch adorned with wicker

chairs, reaches the door, presses the doorbell...and waits.After a couple seconds the door opens and A HANDSOME, PALEWOMAN, around 60, steps from behind it...

She looks surprised to see him in his still dishevelled stateand quickly shuts the door in his face.

Conor remains there, confused...

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Then she opens it again...She’s unsure how to act toward him,but attempts to mediate it.

MARY(with a remnant English

accent)Sorry...I wasn’t expecting you.

CONORNo, no...I wasn’t expecting meeither.

She steps out and gives him a hesitant hug, which he didn’tanticipate, but appreciates nonetheless...

She pulls away and looks at him, distant.

MARY

Hi.

CONORHi...Is Eleanor here?

MARYNo...umm...no.

Conor deflates...

CONORIs she staying here?

Mary looks at him, not knowing whether to tell him or not forEleanor’s sake, then she defers with a discreet shrug.

CONOR (CONT’D)Okay then...sorry to barge in onyou.

They stand there, uneasily, then Conor turns to walk away.

MARYYou want to come in for a second?

Conor stops and looks to her.CONOR

Would that be alright?

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INT. THE RIGBY’S LIVING ROOM - A COUPLE MINUTES LATER

Conor sits on the edge of a couch in the slightlyoverdecorated room with its blend of 19th century European

antique furniture and dark wood floors.

Framed photos of Eleanor, her parents, and extended family,some older ones in sepia tones, cover one of the walls of theroom in what seems like a collage of the past.

Mary Rigby, Eleanor’s mother, walks in the room and hands hima glass of water while holding onto a glass of red wine, thensits in an adjacent chair, looking at him and still unsurehow to behave toward him. A slight sternness hangs in herexpression.

CONOR

Thank you.

MARYSure you don’t want a glass of wine?

She sips from hers, studying him.

CONORI probably shouldn’t get started.

Mary gives a slight smile.

Conor takes a sip of water.

CONOR (CONT’D)Can I ask how’s she doing?

MARYI don’t know to be completelyhonest...as good as she can be?

Conor nods...thinks a couple seconds...he looks over at the wall of photographs, particularly a picture of him andEleanor on the wall wearing caps and gowns at their

graduation from NYU...There’s an empty square of exposed wallpaper from a removedframe next to it...

CONORDo I seem like a different personto you?

She studies him.

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MARYDo you feel like a differentperson?

CONOR

Kind of.

MARYYou look the same to me...

She’s about to say something, hesitates a moment...then...

MARY (CONT’D)You know I didn’t like you whenEleanor first brought you out herefor dinner...however long ago it was...Jesus, how long ago was it?

Conor, slightly surprised by the comment, watches her gettingcaught in her memory.

CONORSeven years.

MARYYeah, you sat there, in the exactsame spot seven years ago with aglass of water cause you were tooafraid to have a drink in front of me; this obnoxiously perfect kid who ran off with my daughter’s

attention...

She continues to study him.

CONORWhy are you telling me this?

MARYI’m not sure. Just thinking outloud, I suppose...I was looking atyou just now and feelingold...well, older...

After a second.

MARY (CONT’D)You grew on me, though.

Conor looks down into his lap, unable to take thecompliment...

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CONOR(moving on)

Look, I don’t want to interfere with your life or with what sheneeds to do, but I can’t just chalk

this one up to destiny...

He looks toward Mary, but not at her...

CONOR (CONT’D)I walked on with my life cause Ithought moving on was the best wayto go.

MARYI guess people grieve differently.

They remain there awkwardly a moment...

CONOR(trying to smother anyhint of emotion)

I really have no interest infeeling like this.

She watches him...He shakes his head, still trying to shakethe emotion off...

CONOR (CONT’D)I’d love there to be anappropriate, articulate thing to

say...I just wanted the mundanedaily bullshit back instead ofreminding people of what nobody canstand to be reminded about.

A tear streams down his cheek.

She keeps her distance.

MARYI assume Eleanor wanted somethingelse.

CONORYeah...I assume.

Conor looks up at her, wiping his tear away, thinking about what she just said...

She looks off pensively, then back to him...

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MARYAnd there’s nothing appropriateabout any of this.

EXT. STAMFORD TRAIN STATION - LATER

Conor stands on the platform with a few SCATTERED PEOPLE waiting to get on the train back to the city.

A train arrives on the opposite side of the tracks and pullsaway...

Eleanor walks across the platform, lugging her book bag, butConor, in his daze, doesn’t notice her as she disappears downthe stairs.

EXT./INT. THE MIDNIGHT KITCHEN - THE NEXT DAY

STUART (O.S.)Why do you have to be such astubborn asshole?!

Conor bursts into the kitchen with a meat and produce spreadsheet on a clipboard followed by Stuart.

CONORBecause I feel like it.

STUART

Your father’s a culinary maverick,essentially the Mick Jagger of therestaurant game. You’ve got carteblanche into a three star Michelin world, you lucky fucker! Pull yourhead out of your ass! All it takesis a phone call to save us and you want to drown with the ninetypercent of restaurants that fail inthis bitch of a city?

CONOR

Stu.STUART

How did he do it?

CONORHuh?

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STUARTHow’d your dad make it? Why don’tyou at least take a play from hisbook?

CONORHe married my mother.

STUARTWhat do you mean?

CONORShe gave him the money her familyleft her, helped him open his firstsuccessful restaurant then hedropped her like a bad habit. So,go find some loaded, lonely womanand we’ll go from there.

STUARTWell...

CONORI’d rather fail catastrophically on my own than give him thesatisfaction of thinking he handed me life on a platter.

STUARTThat’s the stupidest thing in thehistory of stupid things I’ve ever

heard.

CONORJesus, Stu. What the hell do youthink’s gonna happen? Hey dad, can my friends come work with metoo...? It’s not like a fuckingslumber party and as decent a cookyou are...

STUART(interrupting)

I’m a chef, actually.CONOR

Fine...You don’t exactly cut it inthose kitchens. No offense.

STUARTOh, none taken.

Stuart let’s this settle.

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Then he charges Conor, and tackles him. Pots go flying andthe two of them wind up in a loud and clumsy scuffle on thekitchen floor.

INT. MIDNIGHT KITCHEN, OUTSIDE THE KITCHEN DOOR - CONTINUOUS

Upbeat Nouvelle Vague plays from the speaker system.

More pots and pans clatter and clang as the scuffle goes onin the background.

STUART (O.S.)You stupid...!

Alexis, behind the bar, and Sia, setting tables, hear themand look toward the commotion in the kitchen.

STUART (O.S.)Oww...fucker!!

Then silence...

A WOMAN, backlit by the light from outside, walks in thefront door.

Alexis looks over at her.

ALEXISWe’re not open quite yet.

INT. KITCHEN, THE MIDNIGHT KITCHEN - MOMENTS LATER

Conor and Stuart lie on the kitchen floor staring at theceiling, huffing.

CONOR(huffing)

You okay?

STUART(also huffing)

I was number three in my class atthe New York School of CulinaryArts, motherfucker.

CONOR(through breaths)

I know that, moron...I loved ourlittle set up here, but the leasehas gotten prohibitively expensive.

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Unless you want to camp out in thekitchen.

STUARTI’ll buy the sleeping bags.

CONORIt’s time to let it go. Time togrow up.

STUARTI am grown up.

After a beat, and some more breath catching.

STUART (CONT’D)When do we have to close?

CONOR

End of next week.

STUARTCan we try to promote one lastbanger before we lock it down?

CONORFine by me.

STUARTCan we abuse some heavy narcotics?

CONOR

Whatever honks your horn.

Conor pushes himself up, dusts himself off and reaches topull up Stuart.

STUARTSorry.

CONORBlow me.

They give each other a half-assed handshake and step out of

the kitchen.

INT. MIDNIGHT KITCHEN DINING AREA - CONTINUOUS

Conor emerges through the kitchen door, stops in his tracks,and sees Eleanor with a pony tail, in her green jacket,sitting across the bar from an uncomfortable Alexis.

Eleanor turns and sees him.

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Stuart steps out behind Conor and sees her across fromAlexis...

STUARTHoly shit.

ELEANORGood to see you too, Stuart.

Conor remains there awkwardly looking at her.

STUARTWhat I meant was hi, Rigby.

She doesn’t care.

ELEANORUhuh.

An uneasy beat as they all watch Conor and Eleanor looking ateach other.

STUARTWell, this has been nice, like oldtimes, reconnecting and all that,but I’m gonna head back into thekitchen.

ALEXISI’ll join you.

Alexis quickly walks out from behind the bar, avoiding eyecontact, and follows Stuart into the kitchen.

Sia hustles across the room and accompanies them leavingConor and Eleanor alone at the bar.

Eleanor stays cool as a cucumber.

Conor walks behind the bar and stands across from Eleanor, ata loss for words for a couple seconds, then...

CONOR

A Shirley Temple?ELEANOR

Please.

He grabs a glass, ice, mixes the ginger ale and grenadine with a cocktail cherry on top and puts it in front of her.

She pulls out some cash, not taking it for granted.

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CONORYour money’s no good here.

She looks at him and puts it away, sips from the straw.

ELEANORBusiness good?

CONORWe’re closing.

She looks at him a beat.

ELEANORSorry to hear that.

CONORMe too.

Another beat as the kitchen door opens a crack for Stuart,Alexis, and Sia to hear.

ELEANORSo what’s next?

CONORI was thinking of developing someinterests that people mightactually take an interest in.

She allows a grin.

ELEANORYou gonna work with your dad?

He ignores that and looks at her, thinking...

CONORYou know, before you, I had nofucking clue who I was. When I was with you, I thought I’d figured itout...Now, I’m back to wondering.

ELEANORWhen you figure it out again, tell me how.

She looks at him, his bruises, the circles under his eyes,deadpan.

ELEANOR (CONT’D)Let’s get out of here.

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CONORWhat?

ELEANORLet’s go.

He’s off guard.

CONORLike, right now?

ELEANORThat was the idea.

CONORUmm...

He looks toward the kitchen, hesitant.

ELEANORI don’t believe in wasting time.

He looks back at her and then walks out from behind the bar.

She takes another sip of her Shirley Temple, stands and walkstoward the door.

He watches her then follows her out.

EXT. AVIS RENT A CAR, 11TH AND BROADWAY - A LITTLE LATER

They stand self-consciously quiet, all the pressure in the world to make this work, waiting for a car to be brought upout of the garage as the afternoon begins to settle intoevening over Manhattan.

She looks over at him then looks away.

Then he looks to her...

CONORSo, we’re just gonna drive

aimlessly?ELEANOR

Yes.

He wears an uncertain expression, she notices.

A maroon Chevy Cobalt drives quickly up to them and screechesto a halt.

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Conor and Eleanor share a look.

THE ATTENDANT, a mid-forties Avis lifer, pops out and leavesit running for them.

ATTENDANTDon’t forget to fill it up beforedropping it off.

Eleanor hops in the passenger seat.

CONORWill do.

Conor gets in and drives onto east 11th street.

EXT. THE NEW JERSEY TURNPIKE - AN HOUR LATER

They drive along the heavily trafficked interstate near theMeadowlands.

INT. CHEVY COBALT - CONTINUOUS

No radio. No talk.

The sun’s descending and light sneaks through some heavy rainclouds that are moving in. You’d have never thought the pikecould look beautiful with it’s industrial accents andadjacent wetland

the disappearence of eleanor rigby

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