by David Marek

On the rooftop of a fancy house in SOHO. Downstairs, partygoers celebrate the launching of a new book. Robin Frisch (19 going on 20), the author, sits on the edge of the roof, casually “smoking” an unlit cigarette. Strands of her otherwise perfect hair dangle in front of her face, her make up smeared. In her hair, she wears a chic scarf wrapped around her head like a gypsy.
Lester Gayle (30), wearing a tuxedo, a fresh cut zig zags down his cheek, walks out from the building, crosses the stage towards Robin Frish; he holds a hardback book like a running back holding a football.
ROBIN
I remember when . . .
LESTER
Langston told me he saw you come up here.
ROBIN
He has eyes in the back of his head.
(she offers him a cigarette)
LESTER
I quit.
ROBIN
Quitter.
LESTER
I’m sorry about what happened downstairs.
ROBIN
Don’t be.
LESTER
You have to believe me that I didn’t invite Christine. I don’t know how she found out I’d be here. Really. I’d never lie to her, of course, but I neglected to tell her exactly where I was going. I told her I had a business engagement. You know I’d never plan this—intentionally. Are you all right? Did she hurt you?
ROBIN
I’m fine, Lester.
LESTER
Your big night: You were kind enough to invite me, and I nearly ruin it.
ROBIN
Relax, Lester. Nothing was ruined. And my publicist
(southern accent)
“Tammy Elliot-Birnbaum, hyphenated,” with Langston’s oversight, set the guest list. I had nothing to do with it. But I’m happy you were invited.
(looking at him closely)
You look old, Lester. Oh my god, look at your cheek. You’re bleeding.
Lester touches his check, as if he’s feeling, and then seeing, the blood for the first time. Robin yanks the scarf off her head and dabs at Lester’s cheek.
LESTER
Christine’s ring . . .
ROBIN
You were clipped when you were separating me and Christine.
LESTER
Christine and I.
ROBIN
Goddamnit, Lester. (silence, she wipes his face) What a scene that was. (old-fashioned newspaper reporter) “It’ll read real well on Page 6.” Upper East Side Lolita, Robin Frisch, in bold, gets in bloody catfight with ex-lover slash teacher’s girlfriend at book party. It’s tick, tick, tick, tick, tick, tick . . .
LESTER
Look at you. All grown up.
ROBIN
I look like a high end call girl auditioning for the Real World. Real World hip with call girl edge. This chick, Marcy Yi, my image consultant: she created this whole motif for me. Even the color of my nail polish has a purpose. They wanted me to look like a hot young writer. Brittany Spears meets Tess Gallagher. Someone Fitzgerald might be fucking. The truth is, I don’t feel like a writer.
LESTER
Well, you look like one.
ROBIN
(English accent)
“That’s more important anywho.”
(Back Water Yokel)
“We inna book-sellin’ bidness, mistah.”
You got the advanced copy I sent you.
LESTER
(holding up the book, a plain white cover)
Pretty cool. Good thing you can’t judge a book by its cover.
ROBIN
Cute. Did you read it?
LESTER
I read it.
ROBIN
And? What do you think? Do you hate me?
LESTER
What can I say? I suppose it was interesting how you perceived our relationship. To the extent I thought about it, I always presumed you were less likely to get hurt than I was.
ROBIN
You wrote that in your head on the way over.
LESTER
I might have formulated talking points. I never meant to hurt you, Robin.
ROBIN
The book had editors.
(stuffy grown up voice)
“Changes were made in the name of capitalism.” Who said that? The main editor: Rene Tally—you’d love him: he just sold the most wicked screenplay: it’s called “John Cusack’s Bachelor Party” and it’s like half real, half fake: you think you’re watching a renegade video of John Cusack’s bachelor party in Vegas, like “Blair Witch” meets the Pam and Tommy Lee sex video . . .
LESTER
Is John Cusack even engaged?
ROBIN
It’s just a movie. Don’t believe everything you see—or read.
LESTER
Are you suggesting you might not have felt about me the way the you in your book felt about me in your book?
ROBIN
(German accent)
“I’ll tell you something top secret.” We’re calling it Reality Fiction: it’s a new sub-genre. Apparently some brilliant marketing jackoff thinks it’ll sell more than memoir or autobiography. Langston’s betting the farm on this concept.
(in product pitchman voice)
“Reality Fiction: It’s a lot like fiction, only it has the word reality in it.” The tweeners flock to that word.
LESTER
Will I get voted off the island?
ROBIN
It’s not interactive. It blends fiction and real life.
LESTER
Sounds dangerous.
ROBIN
Right. I guess Christine read it? She probably didn’t see the fictional forest through all those real trees. Trees. Very phallic. I forget sometimes that the retelling of our affair hasn’t consumed your entire being for the past 15 months. I’m like the Jews with the fucking Holocaust. I’ll be making my artistic living off this one till I’m a hundred and four. That’s a joke. Thank God Jews don’t believe in hell.
LESTER
Robin . . .
ROBIN
My brother just got back from March of Living: now he’s selling shirts at Auschwitz tee shirts dot com, like “I survived Auschwitz” and “My kid went to Auschwitz and all I got was this t-shirt.” Pretty classic. Dad Number Three’s irate.
LESTER
But the Holocaust really happened.
ROBIN
If this book caused you problems, it was unintentional.
LESTER
I don’t blame your book for my problems.
ROBIN
You know after Head Master Cowan fired you, everyday after school I’d sit in that Starbucks across from your building on 72nd. I’d write our names on those gray napkins, like it was one word: lesterobin. I felt like someone in a Paul Aster novella.
LESTER
I stayed at my father’s partner’s house in Greenwich.
ROBIN
Ah ha. The subject split town to avoid additional heat. And when did you get back together with what’s her name?
LESTER
December. We’re living together in a renovated co-op in Chelsea. My father arranged a few interviews at the bank.
ROBIN
And you like this life style? This suits you? Or fulfills you?
LESTER
What do you want from me?
ROBIN
(like a surfer)
“Sense – ee – tive.” I’m not making judgments, just asking questions. (pause) You know the day after tomorrow I leave for my book tour, to promote the book. To promote Robin Frisch – that’s me. Langston thinks, or we think, I guess, or someone thinks – I don’t know who thinks it, but there’s a thought floating around, apparently spawned out of thin air, that you might be interested in the opportunity to accompany us on the tour. To help us promote the concept.
LESTER
I don’t know anything about book promotions. Or Reality Fiction.
ROBIN
We have professionals for that.
LESTER
Then what would I do? Are you offering me a job?
ROBIN
No . . . I mean, I am . . . but it’s not like that. Let’s just say I never got over you. Will that test better with audiences?
LESTER
That depends on what I’d be doing.
ROBIN
You wouldn’t do anything. You’d be with me. (silence) It’s a big launch. They have a lot of thoughts, just thoughts. Thoughts are like sperm, a billion get spewed out – if you’re lucky one gets through and makes a baby — and even most of them suck.
LESTER
I’m confused. I read this book, and I thought you hated me—(reading from a marked page) Chapter Two’s titled: “I know cockroaches with more heart than Lester Gayle.” Christine nearly kicked me out of our apartment.
ROBIN
It was a plot point.
LESTER
Now you want me to be your boyfriend?
ROBIN
In four months, we’re back. You can go back to your renovated coop and Christine and merging and acquiring companies.
LESTER
You want me to pretend to be your boyfriend—
ROBIN
Real life’s not going anywhere.
LESTER
. . . cause that will generate sales.
ROBIN
Not sales per se. Just a buzz. It’ll be something that people talk about: “Did you see Robin Frisch and the teacher are together?” “Did you see Robin Frisch and the teacher at Lotus?” “Did you see Robin Frisch and the teacher dined with the Queen of England and Sting and talked about feeding kids in Africa?”
LESTER
I get it, I get it. Maybe it’s real, maybe it’s fake. Maybe the Holocaust didn’t happen.
ROBIN
It’ll be real to us. We’ll be a couple—a couple that creates a buzz.
LESTER
That’s why I was invited?
ROBIN
It’s not my idea.
LESTER
But you went along with it. You were ready to make the sales pitch downstairs. Then Christine showed up.
ROBIN
Hitting her wasn’t part of the plan.
LESTER
Hitting her wasn’t part of the plan? But her showing up was? You told her I’d be here. That’s how she knew.
ROBIN
I didn’t tell her.
LESTER
But you know who did. Someone from your camp, one of your people leaked it to her. This was all a set up. You weren’t jealous downstairs at all. You were just playing a part to create a buzz. You created a media event. I actually worried that I hurt you somehow.
ROBIN
I know. You were so sweet.
LESTER
I’m sweet.
ROBIN
I did get jealous. I did. I didn’t think I would. I was just supposed to yell at her, just something minor to launch our reuniting: To get people talking about the catfight at Robin Frisch’s book party. But when I saw her godforsaken outfit, those hideous square toe sandals . . . I fucking slugged that bitch. I couldn’t control myself.
LESTER
How stupid am I. I’m being manipulated. Even this right here, this conversation . . . even Langston telling me where you went, in essence directing me to follow you. Even telling me about the plan is part of the plan. You created this scene; it’s not real: Fake. Is Langston watching us from behind a fake wall or something?
ROBIN
It’s not like that.
LESTER
(looking around frantically)
It’s not? Okay . . . you want me in on this fake reality, what’s in it for me?
ROBIN
We’d be a couple.
LESTER
How much does Lester Gayle get? What’s my cut, Langston?
ROBIN
It’s real, only created.
LESTER
(still looking for Langston)
That’s not real. Where are you, you snake? How much?
ROBIN
. . . top shelf booze and Champagne for breakfast . . .
LESTER
. . . I quit drinking . . .
ROBIN
. . . interviews with Charlie Rose, Regis . . .
LESTER
. . . not interested . . .
ROBIN
. . . you’ll get published. Anything you want. You’ll get to be a writer.
(he stops his searching)
And you get me.
LESTER
(calms down) In ten years, I haven’t had so much as a short story published.
ROBIN
You got the gas station story published.
LESTER
Online.
ROBIN
Still. It was a good story.
LESTER
It had a strong voice. That same online magazine just rejected a piece I submitted two years ago.
ROBIN
I’ve missed you, Lester. It’s been over a year. When I was writing . . . I went bonkers. I had these intricate, pretend conversations with you . . . Even my shrink made fun of me. You’d tell me the book was good. And I’d say, It’s bad. And you’d say, Good. I’d say, Bad. (pause) I didn’t think you’d come tonight. I lost a fifty dollar bet with Langston. That’s one drink at the bar where the post party’s at. Langston can always see three moves ahead.
LESTER
What’s to stop me from selling my story to another publisher, compete with you?
ROBIN
It’s too late for that. Maybe nine months ago you had leverage. Robin Frisch is the story now. Somehow, you got marginalized.
LESTER
But I’ll be a clown.
ROBIN
No more than anyone else.
LESTER
(thinking it over) The salespitch to end all salespitches.
ROBIN
(putting another cigarette in her mouth) It’s like I’m not a real person anymore, just some creation to sell a story: “the book’s the thing.”
LESTER
Lemme have one of those.
ROBIN
(giving him the cigarette) I smoked my first joint with you.
LESTER
I never smoked pot with you.
ROBIN
In the book you did. You also tricked me into meeting you on the sun deck, on the roof of the Theater Arts building, and seduced me in my school uniform.
LESTER
It sounded hot.
ROBIN
Cute. One time I fantasized you’d do that. And now you have.
LESTER
You still have fantasies when your reality’s fiction?
ROBIN
You can say no, Lester.
LESTER
No Lester. There I said it. (pause) Our wedding invitations went out yesterday. You think Marcy Yi can make my hair look more Kurt Vonnegut?
ROBIN
You’re engaged?
LESTER
Yea, but I was never very into it.
ROBIN
Why not? She seems nice. She needs a facial, but otherwise.
LESTER
Let’s just say I never got over you.
ROBIN
It’s not as great as you’d think.
LESTER
A helluva lot more fun than real life.
ROBIN
I suppose it is real life. Just with better dialogue.
LESTER
We leave in two days. I need a story to tell Christine.
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