[Sparse piano] Recorded Voice: You have ten seconds remaining. Kevin: Viv— Viv: Nine. Kevin: Can I call tomorrow? Viv: Eight. Kevin: Not like this. Viv: Seven. Kevin: Without the voice. Viv: Six. Kevin: Without paying. Viv: Five. That’s not how billing works. Kevin: Four. Viv: Don’t steal my countdown. Kevin: Three. Viv: Kevin— Kevin: Two. Viv: This is telecommunications. Kevin: One. [Timer beep. Disconnect] Viv: Hello? [No cash-register ding] Brenda: Viv, line two is holding. Viv: Who is it? Brenda: A duke who fears commitment. Viv: Of course he does. Brenda: Line three wants a pirate. Viv: Naturally. Brenda: Line four wants something real. Viv: Disconnect him. Brenda: Your numbers were excellent tonight. Viv: Thank God. At last, my tombstone has a quote. [Ensemble] She was efficient. She retained. Her average call duration was responsibly maintained. Viv: I have sold men moonlight. I have rented them desire. I have whispered over static while my microwave caught fire. I have been their perfect secret, their confession, cure, and sin. I have let a thousand strangers out and never let one in. But another minute’s waiting. Another line will glow. Another person wants a version of a woman they don’t know. [Ensemble] Another minute. Another dream. Another prepaid fantasy delivered through the machine. Viv: Maybe every performance leaves a little something true. Maybe every lie I’ve spoken held a piece of someone too. Maybe loneliness is ordinary. Maybe wanting isn’t wrong. Maybe people buy a voice because the night feels twice as long. [Phone rings] Brenda: You taking it? Viv: I need hydration. [Ensemble] Drink that water. Viv: I need lumbar support. [Ensemble] Get that cushion. Viv: I need dental insurance. [Ensemble] Don’t get greedy. Viv: I need boundaries. [Ensemble] Boundaries. Viv: Overtime. [Ensemble] Overtime. Viv: And a headset that does not smell like the previous employee’s hairline. [Ensemble] Wash it in the blood of disinfectant. [Groove builds] All: Another minute. Raise the banner, ring the bell. We’ll sell heaven by the second with a complimentary hell. There are callers in the darkness. There are operators too. Everybody wants connection. Everybody pays their due. Viv: Maybe I’ll quit tomorrow. Maybe I’ll demand a chair. Maybe I’ll tell Brenda where to stick her coaching questionnaire. Maybe Kevin calls at daylight. Maybe he forgets my name. Maybe something real can happen without rigging every game. But tonight the board is blinking. There are wages left to earn. There are lonely men in Texas with emotional concern. [Final key change] All: Your fantasy is billing. Every heartbeat has a fee. You can rent a little tenderness, but nobody owns it free. Call her angel, call her trouble, call her anything you choose, but the woman underneath the voice still gets to win or lose. Viv: Thank you for calling Fantasy After Dark, where your dreams come true, subject to availability, exhaustion, and whatever I decide to give to you. [Phone rings. Headset click] Hi, gorgeous. No, I’m not wearing anything. Except boundaries. [Cash-register ding] Clock’s running. All: Another minute!
