ANGELINA — ACT VIII DON'T MAKE HIM A SAINT

[ACT VIII — DON'T MAKE HIM A SAINT] [BLACKNESS.] BOOM. BOOM. [WOMAN] Don't make him a saint. BOOM. I already did that. [Silence.] For years. [Long kick passage.] Dead men are very convenient. They don't interrupt. They don't disappoint you. They don't leave their socks on the floor. [BOOM.] They don't become boring. [Small laugh.] Most importantly... they don't get to correct the story. BOOM. So I made him perfect. Beautiful. Gentle. Tragic. Mine. [STOP.] There's that word again. Mine. [Long silence.] But he wasn't. And he wasn't perfect. He could be jealous. Petty. Cruel. He snored. [BOOM.] Oh, God... he fucking snored. [She laughs genuinely.] Like a dying tractor. BOOM. I used to kick him in his sleep. [Pause.] I'd give anything to hear it now. [Silence.] No. That's a lie. [BOOM.] See? Still doing it. Making grief beautiful. [Distorted bass enters.] The truth? Sometimes he bored me. Sometimes I looked at other men. Sometimes I wanted him gone. [BOOM.] Then he was. [DEAD STOP.] Careful what you wish for? Fuck that. Thoughts don't kill people. Words don't summon cars. Anger isn't murder. [Kick.] BOOM. I know that. [Kick.] BOOM. I know that. [Kick.] BOOM. I KNOW THAT. [Silence.] So why have I spent years punishing myself? [Long instrumental — kick and bass.] Because guilt... is useful. [Pause.] There. That's the ugly part. BOOM. If I'm guilty... I don't have to love again. If I'm broken... I don't have to trust anyone. If he was the love of my life... then nobody else gets a fucking audition. [BOOM.] Perfect. [Cold laugh.] What a beautiful scam. [Kick grows heavier.] Every man after him— too shallow. BOOM. Too stupid. BOOM. Too soft. BOOM. Too rough. BOOM. Too close. BOOM. Too fucking alive. [STOP.] That was the real problem. Alive. [Long silence.] Living people can leave you. Dead people... stay exactly where you put them. [BOOM.] I put him at 3:17. And I never let him move. [Long drum passage.] Maybe... “I knew” wasn't a mystery. Maybe he knew the simplest thing in the world. [Silence.] That I loved him. [BOOM.] And maybe I've spent all these years turning two words into a labyrinth... because the exit was too fucking obvious. [Kick starts accelerating.] He knew. BOOM. I loved him. BOOM. He died. BOOM. I lived. BOOM. That's it. [DOUBLE-TIME KICK BEGINS.] No prophecy. No secret. No curse. No fucking angel. [BRUTAL SPEED-ROCK ERUPTION.] Just— A MAN! A WOMAN! A TERRIBLE NIGHT! AND A HEART TOO STUPID TO STOP! [LONG INSTRUMENTAL ATTACK.] [Kick becomes ferocious.] [WOMAN] YOU HEAR THAT?! THAT'S NOT HIM! [BOOM BOOM BOOM BOOM.] THAT'S ME! [Everything CUTS.] [Breathing.] [Silence.] [One slow kick.] BOOM. [WOMAN] So... what the fuck do I do with that? [BOOM.] If the pain isn't him anymore... [Pause.] If the guilt isn't him... [BOOM.] If 3:17 isn't him... [Long silence.] Then who have I been hiding from? [One kick.] BOOM. [Very close whisper.] Oh. [Pause.] Me. [BLACKOUT.] [LONG KICK-ONLY OUTRO.] BOOM. BOOM. BOOM. [Gradually softer.] BOOM. [Silence.]