ANGELINA — ACT VI I KNEW

[ACT VI — I KNEW] [BLACKNESS.] [One breath.] [THE KICK STARTS.] BOOM. BOOM. BOOM. BOOM. [Distorted bass locks to it.] [WOMAN] You want his last words? Fine. But don't fucking blink. I've spent years trying not to hear them. You can survive three minutes. [RIFF ATTACK.] 3:17. Rain. Glass. Blood. His hand inside mine. [Kick never stops.] BOOM. BOOM. BOOM. BOOM. I kept saying— Don't move. Stupid. He wasn't moving. Stay awake. Even more stupid. As if sleep was the problem. [Dirty guitar break.] I pressed my hands where the blood was. Hard. Harder. Like I could push life back inside him. [Beat.] There are moments when you discover how fucking useless hands can be. [RIFF.] I told him— You're going to be fine. Lie. Look at me. Lie. Help is coming. Maybe. I love you. [Music stumbles.] That one... was true. [Kick continues.] And do you know what the bastard did? He smiled. Again. Blood in his mouth. Rain in his eyes. And he fucking smiled. [Hammond rises.] I screamed at him. Don't you dare. Don't you fucking dare make this beautiful. Because it wasn't. It was wet asphalt. Broken glass. Blood under my nails. My knees hurting. My mascara running into my mouth. Nothing beautiful. Nothing poetic. [INSTRUMENTAL SPEED-ROCK ATTACK.] And still... he looked peaceful. I hated him for that. I was doing enough panic for both of us. [Kick grows heavier.] Then he touched my face. Barely. And I knew he was going to say something. [Everything builds.] I thought he'd say— I love you. Or— I'm scared. Or— Don't leave me. Something worthy of a fucking tragedy. [Kick pounding harder.] BOOM. BOOM. BOOM. BOOM. But he looked at me... and said— [EVERYTHING STOPS.] [ABSOLUTE SILENCE.] [WOMAN, quoting him herself, without changing singer] “I knew.” [Long silence.] That's it. Two words. I knew. [Breath.] I asked— Knew what? [Silence.] He couldn't answer. Or wouldn't. [Very quietly.] So I asked again. What did you know? [Pause.] Nothing. [THE KICK RETURNS ALONE.] BOOM. [Pause.] BOOM. [Distorted bass joins.] And that's the sentence I've been living inside ever since. [RIFF RETURNS.] I knew. Knew I loved him? Knew I was lying? Knew I'd follow him? Knew I'd come running? Knew underneath all the shit, all the money, all the fucking armor... there was still someone in here? [She hits her chest.] What did you know?! [DRUMS ERUPT.] Tell me! You don't get to die— [She stops.] [Silence.] There. I said it. [Heartbeat.] Die. [Long pause.] Yes. He died. [One funeral bell.] Happy? [Silence.] There's your ending. There's your dead lover. Your tragedy. Your beautiful fucking corpse. Was it worth waiting for? [LONG GUITAR SOLO.] [Woman returns, colder.] Don't cry. Please. I fucking hate it when strangers cry for people they never knew. You didn't know him. And apparently... neither did I. [Low cello.] Because every night at 3:17... I hear it. “I knew.” [Kick resumes slowly.] And every night I give it a different meaning. That's grief. Not sadness. Editing. Rewriting. Putting words in a dead man's mouth... because he isn't here to tell you you're full of shit. [PIPE ORGAN ENTERS.] Maybe he knew I loved him. That's the version I keep. [Beat.] Most nights. [Music darkens.] But sometimes... there's another version. [Kick accelerates.] Maybe he knew something about me. Something I don't. Something I don't remember. [RIFF becomes distorted.] Because there is still one fucking problem. [Funeral bells.] I remember him leaving. I remember following. I remember the light. The impact. His blood. His hand. His voice. [COLOSSAL BUILD.] I remember everything now. Everything... except— [DEAD STOP.] why he turned around. [Silence.] He wasn't crossing the road. [Heartbeat.] He was coming back to me. [Long silence.] Why? [Very low.] What did he know? [THE KICK RETURNS — HUGE.] BOOM. BOOM. BOOM. BOOM. [WOMAN] WHAT DID YOU KNOW?! [APOCALYPTIC ROCK/ORCHESTRAL EXPLOSION.] [LONG INSTRUMENTAL — GUITAR, ORGAN, CELLO, FUNERAL BELLS, MASSIVE DRUMS.] [Everything gradually dies except kick.] BOOM. BOOM. BOOM. [WOMAN, whisper] At 3:17... he died. [One final kick.] BOOM. [WOMAN] And I didn't. [BLACKOUT.]