May The FedEx Be With Thee

    “Can I…um…talk to you for a sec?” Dex asks, his voice sharper and brighter than it has any right to be, ripping a spiraling Fitz out of his daze. 

    For Physic to admit so plainly that he just nearly died that’s—that’s terrifying. 

    Sophie might go through that on a far too regular basis, but for Fitz to get that close to his own demise makes him feel things he’s never felt before. It’s a kind of fear and a lack of control he’s never had before, even while he was watching Sophie drag herself back from the edge of fading away. 

    It’s an even deeper affront to his being than that. Elves are supposed to have an indefinite life span; they aren’t built to process the concept of their own mortality. 

    “Uh…sure,” Fitz replies slowly, glancing up to find Dex studying the floor. 

    Fitz’s Mom herds Keefe and Sophie out of the room, and Physic follows suit, her bejeweled half-mask glittering in the sterile lights as she goes. Keefe, ever insufferable, proclaims that he’s going to be eavesdropping. Fitz throws a pillow at him for his impunity. 

    It is very quickly made obvious that this was a bad decision as Fitz’s chest screams with pain. 

    The inky veins of arthropleura venom may have been drawn out of his skin, but he still has a long way to go before he’s fully healed. Physic’s scolding tells him as much. 

    The look Physic gives Keefe as she warns him to not throw it back is unexpectedly familiar, but Fitz can’t quite figure out why. At least the pillow isn’t allowed to make a return. Keefe is sure to remember this, though. Fitz will regret it one day very soon. 

    Dex waits for several seconds, head turned to the door, watching for the slightest sign that Keefe might be making good on his promise. Eventually he gives in and turns his attention back to the floor, gaze occasionally flicking up at Fitz. 

    Fitz smiles reassuringly, to no effect. 

    “I’m so sorry,” Dex whispers, voice ragged. He’s so quiet, Fitz wonders if Dex actually said anything or if his thoughts were just so loud that Fitz’s Telepathy picked up on them. 

    The next time Dex dares to look at Fitz, a tear streaks down Dex’s cheek. He quickly swipes it away.

    More than that, though, is the guilt etched into every single line, every single freckle. 

    Guilt is the most dangerous emotion an elf can have. Fitz has seen its effects. His father’s mind broke from the weight of Prentice’s conviction. 

    The ironic part is that Prentice’s sentence was to spend the rest of his indefinite lifespan with his mind broken for assisting the Black Swan and, now, Fitz, Biana, and their Mom have joined that exact same organization.  

    And, yes, Sophie was able to heal his Dad, but what if she couldn’t this time? What if Dex shattered and Fitz was the reason why? 

    I’ve already had to go through losing someone because of Prentice’s exile. I can’t let it happen again. 

    “Dex, listen to me.” Fitz waits until Dex’s eye contact lasts for a whole second. “I don’t blame you. I don’t blame you in the slightest—”

    “It was my gadget! It’s why you’re like—like this!” Dex’s voice cracks as he gestures to the bed Fitz is going to be trapped in for the next week. 

    Fitz’s hackles rise, meeting Dex’s anger head on. Anger is a safe emotion, at least until he starts saying things he’s going to regret. But he doesn’t care if he regrets what he’s saying so long as Dex understands. 

    “Correct me if I’m wrong, but last I checked, you aren’t a Charger. So unless you’ve suddenly manifested another ability and then didn’t spend a week proclaiming it to anyone who would listen, that was not your fault.”

    Dex’s voice takes on a dark edge. “Zarina wouldn’t have been able to do this.” 

    Memories of Councillor Zarina, lightning crackling in her palms and the faint whiff of ozone it caused as the air electrified, rush through Fitz’s mind. “She would’ve happily electrocuted any one of us if she thought it was the right thing to do.”

    “Since when has the Council acted upon ‘the right thing?’” 

    Fitz’s mouth opens to argue that the Council isn’t malicious, just overly cautious with a tendency to cover up every possible controversy, no matter how small, but he thinks better of it. The memories of Sophie’s Ability Restriction surface, too fresh in both of their minds to ignore. 

    Dex probably blames himself for that, too. But that isn’t his fault, either. He set out to build an Ability Enhancer. It was the Council that twisted it into what it became. He was just following orders to not get his family banished. 

    “Since when have you not blamed them for every inconvenience you’ve ever experienced?” Fitz smiles amusedly, a recent event coming to the forefront of his mind. “I think one day I heard you probably working on your gadgets around five in the morning cursing them out. I don’t think they gave you that paper cut.” 

    “Okay, most importantly, why were you awake that early? And how could you hear me? We are quite literally in separate treehouses. And, also, it was a splinter, not a paper cut, thank you very much.”

    Dex’s petulant smile doesn’t quite reach his dimples. 

    “I’m surprised Biana hasn’t told you about the horror stories of living with me. I’m apparently what’s called a ‘morning person’ and I should be placed in the Sanctuary to prevent the extinction of my species because it’s critically endangered.” 

    Dex’s smile widens, becoming more sincere. He looks like he almost wants to laugh, but his lips stay pressed together. That’s when Fitz makes it his personal mission to make Dex laugh before he’s allowed to leave this room, even if humor as a coping mechanism is Keefe’s specialty. 

    Fitz’s grand plans are suddenly impeded by a coughing fit, every muscle in his chest protesting with every single movement. A metallic taste tinges the back of his tongue and the skin of his chest feels impossibly tight. Between coughs, he can see the guilt flashing across Dex’s face, and it makes his chest ache in more ways than one. 

    Fitz doesn’t even get the chance to catch his breath before Dex begins a rambling apology. “I’m sorry I did this to you, and I’m sorry about the Ability Restrictor, and I know it wasn’t used on you but I’m still sorry about how it turned out, and I’m sorry for that day you came to the store and I acted like a buffoon, and I’m sorry for—”

    Fitz interrupts him before he can work himself into even more of a mess. “How many times do I have to tell you that I don’t blame you for what happened with the arthropleura?”

    “But you should.” 

    “There was absolutely no malicious intent behind anything that went down. You need to stop blaming yourself.”

    Dex shakes his head. “Intent doesn’t absolve me of responsibility.”

    “Fine, then. Why don’t you blame the Council? You can do that. It’s very easy to get pissed at Councillor Zarina for short circuiting your gadget. It’s even easier to blame Councillor Clarette for calling the arthropleura there in the first place. Who’s to say no one would’ve gotten hurt if your mini smoke machine gadget thing hadn’t decided to be extra explosive?”

    Dex looks…thoroughly unconvinced. 

    “Or, if you want to think about it this way, I share responsibility too. If I hadn’t thrown your gadget down the hallway, things could’ve gone very differently. Worse differently, but still differently. You can blame me for everything, you’ve done it before.”

    Dex has returned to studying the floor, the uneven lines of light gray grout separating the slightly darker gray tiles. It’s the only room Fitz has seen in the entirety of Alluveterre that doesn’t feel like it’s a treehouse. It’s empty, cold, and smells faintly of hand sanitizer. “I used to hate you, you know,” he whispers. 

    His inflection on the word ‘hate’ seems to imply that those feelings might not entirely be in the past, but they certainly aren’t what they used to be. He wouldn’t be getting this worked up if someone else—like Stina—was the one impaled by the antennae of an oversized millipede. 

    “Yeah, I do,” Fitz replies simply, not breaking eye contact. 

    “And that doesn’t bother you?”

    “I mean, I don’t entirely understand what I did to merit that kind of response, but, like, you’ve been more than willing to tolerate me in recent months. Why should I let that bother me? The past is in the past and it’s not like it’s going to reemerge.” 

    Dex turns away from Fitz, now studying the window that looks out onto the treehouses that make up Alluveterre. 

    Fitz can’t really see outside that well with the whole staying-horizontal thing, but Alluveterre itself has taken on a new atmosphere after going to Exile. 

    It should feel more open, but they’re both just as underground, just as claustrophobic. 

    The feeling of being trapped in that place, struggling for every breath as the venom coursed through his veins, is going to haunt him for a long time.

    Maybe that’s the real Vacker legacy…nearly dying in the middle of Exile going to visit Prentice. 

    The surrounding circumstances around the visit couldn’t be much more different. His Dad went down there with Sophie to break Fintan’s mind. He went there to break Prentice out. 

    So much has changed in so few months, there’s no saying where it might go here. All Fitz knows is that Dex is an incredibly skilled Technopath and that he would rather have Dex on his side than against him.

    Dex has the capacity to be scary when he wants to be, but he can also be incredibly stuck in his own head, like right now, as he continues to stare out the window. 

    “What if the past does reemerge?” he whispers. 

    Fitz looks at him, but he doesn’t turn to make eye contact. “Nothing is going to be a linear process. If you end up deciding that your initial opinion of me was correct, I might get a little mad. That’s just how I react to things sometimes. And I also have an intense desire to be liked by everyone—holy Exile, what was in those painkillers?”

    Dex’s response is almost automatic. “It was actually the Oremideae leaves. I think your Great-times-a-gadjillion-uncle-cousin-whatever discovered them. They’re really good at preventing infection, but they also inhibit a little bit of the blood-brain barrier, both physiologically and psychologically. I didn’t realize they’d kick in this quickly…but, I mean, they were crushed...which would increase absorption rate. I can go if this is weird for you.”

    Fitz can barely focus on the details of what Dex is saying. He goes off on alchemy-adjacent tangents quite often during the limited instances they’ve interacted and as much as Fitz wants to learn new things, there’s something so inherently distracting about Dex. 

    “You don’t have to go. Just don’t get mad if and when I say something stupid.”

    “I’m sure you won’t say anything stupid.” Dex’s attention lands on Fitz once again, and he takes a few steps toward Fitz’s bed-prison. 

    “You never know. I am very untrustworthy in that regard.”

    Dex is only a large step away from the foot of Fitz’s bed. He sighs. “I really am sorry for everything and a half.”

    “I thought you were supposed to be good at maths. Infinity plus half an infinity is still infinity. It won’t change. There’s no reason to operate on an infinitely large quantity.”

    Dex’s tone is flat as he says, “It was hyperbole.”

    “Oh.” That would make a touch more sense. I’ll just blame it on my brain not functioning, that’s completely plausible. 

    Dex lowers himself onto the farthest corner of Fitz’s bed. It’s way larger than the ones that Elwin has in the Healing Center at Foxfire, it’s still really close compared to Dex’s normal trend of staying as far away from Fitz as physically possible. 

    But it’s not a level of closeness that’s anything significant in any other case. 

    Dex’s words are low, almost to the point where Fitz thinks his filter has slipped to the point of accidentally reading Dex’s thoughts, but it doesn’t have that familiar echoey quality and Dex is avoiding eye contact once again. 

    “I just want you to know—really know—I’m so sorry about what happened to you. I’d like to promise that it’ll never happen again, but that’s just not something I can guarantee with any level of certainty. That terrifies me to no end, but I guess it just comes with being a Technopath. Hurting everyone around me is just…inevitable.” 

    “Maybe,” Fitz concedes, “but you’ve also saved us so many times with your Panic Switches and even those first two gadgets today that didn’t malfunction. I don’t remember if you heard about me when my Dad’s mind was broken, but, well, I was a bit of an absolute mess and I lashed out at Sophie. Maybe hurting everyone around me is just an inevitable part of my personality.” 

    They sit in silence together for a long moment. 

    Fitz breaks the silence first. “I guess that means that we should be friends. Mutually assured destruction and all that.”

    “Even despite the fact that I used to hate you?” 

    “Yeah. A little animosity will keep things interesting. It’s an integral part of why I’ve tolerated Keefe for so long.”  

     Dex’s laugh isn’t as light as it used to be, back when they didn’t know each other. They’ve both been through so much, and there’s still so much unknown ahead of them in the future. 

    “‘Interesting’ is certainly an interesting word choice. But I guess I’ll try. That’s the biggest commitment I can make. Don’t be mad when I start acting like a blockhead again.” 

    Fitz smiles, struggling to keep his chest muscles from throwing another fit, this time induced by laughter. 

     Dex has been subjected to the worst of the prejudice it can offer, he’s still here fighting for change. He can be bitter at times, but it’s well deserved. Justified, even. Acting like a blockhead would be the least of Fitz’s concerns if he was in Dex’s situation. 

    The idea that the worst Dex could do is act like a blockhead is just so far outside of what he should be allowed, it’s almost comical. 

    Or maybe it’s those Oremideae leaves. 

    Fitz is enveloped by a strong urge to give Dex a hug, but he can’t tell whether it’s from pity, admiration, the realization that he’s truly broken through Dex’s shell for the first time, or something else he can’t quite describe. 

    And that’s the same time that the playful grin drops from Dex’s face. 

    “I should probably leave you to rest and heal. Let me know if there’s anything I can do or get you or—”

    “Actually, I do have one small request, if you don’t mind.” 

    Fitz immediately regrets saying that, but there’s nothing he owns that’s more important to the healing process. 

    “I don’t mind at all. What can I get you?” Dex’s face is lit up, even if he doesn’t want to show it, with the rush of being helpful. It’s the one thing Fitz remembers from that day at the store—Dex’s absolute delight when he knows where something is. 

   “Under my bed, there’s a stuffed dragon. He should be pretty obvious. Please try to keep him away from discovery by others.”

    “By ‘others’ do you mean Biana or Keefe?” Dex asks as he stands, leaving behind an empty, warm corner of the bed. 

    “Yes,” Fitz answers, realizing he’s been smiling like a complete and total doofus long enough to make his face muscles hurt. 

    Dex is gone for a long minute before he returns, brandishing a ruby red dragon, its eyes and sparkles twinkling in the fluorescent lighting as its wings slowly flap from the movement. 

    Elwin may have given Mr. Snuggles to Fitz when Fitz’s Dad’s mind shattered, but it’s hard to remember a time before it was in his life. 

    Fitz hadn’t noticed the emptiness settling into his chest after Dex left, but now that he’s back, Fitz is filled with the kind of longing that doesn’t want him to leave again. 

    “Thank you,” Fitz mumbles as he squeezes Mr. Snuggles so hard it takes a few seconds to return to its original shape. 

    Dex smiles. “Like I said, let me know if you need anything.”

    “Likewise,” Fitz replies. “Although my capabilities might be a touch more limited at the moment.”

    Well, that’s an understatement of the century. 

    Dex leaves without further comment, and Fitz settles himself down into his pillows, clutching Mr. Snuggles close to his chest, the familiar soft fabric a comfort to his otherwise aching muscles. 

    He’s almost drifted off into sleep when Keefe saunters into his room, apparently brought in by the power vacuum left in Dex’s absence. 

    And then his gaze lands on Mr. Snuggles sticking out from under the covers. The unrestrained joy as he wrestles Mr. Snuggles from Fitz’s dazed grasp is refreshing to see after knowing there’s been so many weeks that Keefe has been in such a dismal state. 

    Less refreshing is him parading Mr. Snuggles around and yelling through the entirety of the tree houses of Alluveterre. “You guys have to see this!”

Dex wakes up to find soft rays of sunshine glittering through his window. Normally he wouldn’t notice a thing like that but his brother has bribed him to go outside for the first time this summer. 

Lex’s words, not his. Although they’re probably fairly close to true so the distinction isn’t exactly necessary, but it is important because it makes Dex feel like he isn’t a recluse. 

It takes Dex longer to get out of his bed than he’d like to admit due to the consequences of getting out of it—namely, the outside. While it hasn’t yet gotten hot out, if the fact it’s the middle of July and the absolute lack of clouds is any indication, it’s going to get there sooner or later. 

There’s only a very slim chance that this adventure is going to end before Dex gets heatstroke, and even then, it may not be over. It may never be over. 

And so, he takes as much time to pack everything he could possibly need to live out in the woods for at least the next week, including the several gallons of sunscreen he needs to make sure he doesn’t become a lobster within the first quarter of a second. 

Dex sighs, looking around his room like he’s never going to see it again to double check he hasn’t forgotten anything important. 

Well, other than his army of emotional support stuffed animals, but they won’t exactly fit inside the backpack. He’s tried. It didn’t work. 

His gaze lands on Zoe, a hot pink unicorn who is very determined to not be wearing her sunglasses. He fixes it, then thinks better of it and slides them into his backpack. 

“And that’s what you get for taking them off every day,” he mutters. 

Another five minutes is spent triple checking that he hasn’t left anything before he surrenders himself to his fate. 

His fate drags him outside by the wrist, barely letting him get his shoes on before threatening to dislocate his shoulder.

The outside is almost, but not quite, as unpleasant as it looks from the inside. Its abundance of bugs makes that a very easy distinction, but at least there are pretty trees, and the smell of ocean salt is growing heavier in the air with every turn they take and every trail they track. 

Slowly, there starts to be more signs of the impending ocean in the sand that Lex seems to be trying to kick into Dex’s eyes. 

“Behold,” Lex announces, gesturing wildly where the trees open up to reveal the glittering teal expanse in front of them. 

He looks very proud of himself, but the beads of sweat trickling down Dex’s back are less than thrilled with this whole adventure. 

“Yes, that is, in fact, an ocean. Good job.”

Lex huffs and runs out onto the beach, kicking off his shoes at least ten paces before it was safe to do so, and he probably cut his feet on the rocks. Dex takes a much slower approach, preferring to avoid injury if he can help it. 

The sun is even more blinding when there aren’t any tree shadows to block it, plus it is getting reflected by the bright white sands. 

Okay, fine, they’re more of a cream color but that’s still too bright.

Dex sets down his backpack, his spine popping in at least four different locations and several different directions. 

His fingers brush against something in the side pocket, smooth and not usually there. It’s kind of embarrassing he took this long to remember that he brought sunglasses with him on this odyssey. 

He slides them onto his face, the frames glimmering iridescently as the world darkens to an almost manageable level. 

But then—no. 

Fish people don’t exist. That’s not how this works. 

The seaglass lenses shimmer as Dex looks out over the ocean, revealing an entire world that definitely does not exist. 

This is fine. This is normal. I’m not losing my mind. 

INT. EVERGLEN RECORDING STUDIO - MIDDAY - 1925

KEEFE leans over the antique Vernon family heirloom piano where FITZROY (FITZ) is playing. The intro credit music stops as FITZ looks up at him. 

FITZ sighs. 

FITZ

Let me guess. You’ve been thinking.

KEEFE gasps overdramatically.

KEEFE 

(feigned surprise)

Why ever would I do such a thing? You 

know thinking can only lead to dangerous

outcomes. That being said, I did have a

thought. 

FITZ

Stars, why do I even bother anymore? 

KEEFE smiles annoyingly. 

KEEFE

Because I’m very difficult to get rid of.

(beat) 

I trust you know we’ve been looking for 

a new venue since Tam dusted out on us. 

FITZ 

And whose fault was that? 

KEEFE

Legally? Not mine. 

FITZ pinches the bridge of his nose. KEEFE is unbothered by this. 

KEEFE (CONT’D)

Anyway I was talking to Sophie—

FITZ

Anything that starts like that is certain 

to end badly. 

KEEFE

Fitzroy Avery Vacker, listen to me for a 

second for once in your life. Foster has a 

cousin whose family has a place we could 

use. It’s not the most ideal—

FITZ 

(interrupting)

Then why are we even going to bother with

considering it? 

KEEFE

The back corner of a coffee shop is 

better than nothing. Not all of us are 

lucky enough to leech off your parents.

FITZ pauses for a moment, considering making KEEFE verbalize why, exactly, he cut off his relationship with his parents. 

FITZ

I take it that means you’ve already booked

it.

KEEFE

It’s one gig. Do your best to tolerate it. 

KEEFE turns toward the back door. No one knows where he is going, probably including himself. 

FITZ

You know I won’t.

KEEFE

And you know I don’t care. 

The door closes behind him and FITZ cracks his knuckles before going back to playing the piano. 

INT. SLURPS AND BURPS - LATE EVENING/NIGHT

Slurps and Burps is a coffee shop during the day and a Speakeasy at night. People mill about, the space filled with chatter. 

BIANA is sitting at the counter, swinging her feet as she talks to SOPHIE, drinking what is likely spiked coffee. 

DEXTER (DEX) and FITZ are getting everything set up for the performance this evening. FITZ is trying to be helpful. DEX is left moving the piano mostly by himself. 

DEX

(breathing heavy, teasing)

My guy, did you fill this thing with rocks? 

FITZ

(indignant) 

No. It’s just built to last. 

DEX

(proud of his pun)

Well, it could certainly last through me 

driving a car into it. 

FITZ

Why would you ever find yourself in that 

situation? 

DEX shrugs. 

DEX

I don’t know. 

FITZ looks over at KEEFE, who is flirting with some random extra. 

DEX adjusts the piano into its final resting place. 

DEX

Can I get you anything? Java, tea, what 

have you. We’ve got everything.

DEX lowers his voice. 

DEX (CONT’D) 

A little bit of moonshine? It’s a family

recipe. 

FITZ

(low, dangerous)

You know, it’s probably not very good 

business practice to disclose that 

information to just anyone who walks in 

off the street. Somebody’s going to call

copper. 

DEX

(unconcerned, irritated)

You rat me out, you’re out of a job. 

FITZ snorts. 

FITZ 

I didn’t want this gig in the first place. 

FITZ raises his voice. 

FITZ (CONT’D)

Isn’t that right, Keefe? 

KEEFE

I got no context, so whatever makes him 

look the most like a sap is the one I 

want. 

KEEFE spends the rest of the conversation watching them. 

DEX

(voice low) 

Then why are you here? Why did you even 

bother?

FITZ leans against the piano, almost protectively, trying to make himself look relaxed. He is not. FITZ shrugs stiffly. 

FITZ

I had nothing better to do. Trust me. I 

tried. I really did. 

DEX

(maximum sarcasm) 

Wow, that must have been so difficult

for you. 

FITZ

Lay off it, alright? I’m here for Keefe, 

regardless of what you might want to think.

DEX

I want to believe you’re a sap, and you’re

not exactly giving me much evidence to the

contrary. 

DEX takes a sip out of some unspecified alcoholic beverage. This is a speakeasy, after all. 

FITZ

Oh, so you’ve talked to me for what? Five

minutes? And now you think you’re an 

expert in my every waking thought? Every 

detail of my inner psyche? 

DEX puts his hands up, defensive. 

DEX

I didn’t say that, Socrates. Watch your 

tongue the text time you try to blow 

things out of proportion.

FITZ

Like that isn’t blowing things even 

further out of proportion? 

DEX

If I remember correctly—and please 

correct me if I am wrong here—you were

the first to threaten me and my family, 

so I think that’s more than a fair 

trade from your perspective.

The lights flicker, signaling the start of the show. It is operated by DEX’S BROTHER #1.

DEX

Well. 

DEX presses his lips together. 

DEX (CONT’D)

(bitter)

I should tell you to have fun up there, 

but I don’t think you’re capable of

that. Break a leg and all that 

superstitious nonsense. 

DEX shifts to his customer service voice, laced with passive aggression. 

DEX (CONT’D)

Let me know if I can get you anything 

to make your time here slightly less 

inconvenient. 

FITZ turns away without a reply or a second thought. 

EXT. - HAVENFIELD - MIDDAY, FALL

SOPHIE and DEX are sitting under a Jacaranda tree, leaves beginning to fall but not completely bare. They are complaining about many things. FITZ is a large topic of discussion on this fine day, and also KEEFE and BIANA to a lesser extent. 

DEX

How do you put up with all of them on 

a daily basis? 

SOPHIE

Determination, resilience, a lack of 

other valid career paths, and a dash 

of—

SOPHIE wiggles her eyebrows. It is unclear which one she is wiggling her eyebrows about, but that ambiguity will be important. 

DEX sighs. 

DEX

Okay, like, on the one hand, I get what

you’re saying and, yeah, you’re 

absolutely right.

SOPHIE laughs. 

SOPHIE

That’s because I’m objectively correct.

DEX is too far in his own head to react to SOPHIE’s comment. 

DEX

But, like, how can you reconcile that 

with that personality? I don’t get it.

SOPHIE 

There’s nothing to get. Admire from a 

distance and your problems solve 

themselves. Easy. 

DEX pauses to consider this answer.

DEX

No. I don’t like that solution. Give me 

a better one. Replace the personality

itself. You went to college. You have a 

fancy degree in marketing or something. 

Figure it out. 

SOPHIE

Okay, first of all, that was several 

years ago and I haven’t used it since. 

DEX 

You have a photographic memory. Don’t 

try to pull that on me. 

SOPHIE doesn’t know how to reply to this for a beat. 

SOPHIE

(feigned anger)

Damn. How dare you know all my tricks? 

Anyway, I don’t think personality 

replacement was covered in my curriculum. 

Sorry. But do let me know if the store 

needs new customers. 

DEX

Some might argue there’s already too many

people. That doesn’t excuse the fact that

you’re supposed to know the answers to 

life, the universe, and everything. This

has been thoroughly established. 

SOPHIE

Well, I don’t. Sorry. 

DEX pauses for a long time, somewhere in the realm of several whole seconds. 

DEX

I just wish…things would be easier. 

SOPHIE smiles softly, encouragingly.

SOPHIE

On which front? 

DEX laughs bitterly. 

DEX

Yes. 

DEX pauses, debating with himself if he should elaborate.

DEX (CONT’D)

(frequent pauses, struggling with sentences)

It’s just that…Fitz is…tangling 

everything together. I used to be able

to go to work without getting trapped 

in my own mind. And, well, to be 

completely honest, I don’t much 

appreciate it. 

SOPHIE

You should go tell him that. 

DEX physically flinches away from this idea. 

DEX

I have an even better idea. How about 

you go tell your boyfriend Keefe? 

He’s the one that concocted this whole 

booking-Slurps-and-Burps-for-a-gig

disaster. He should be the one to unravel

this Gordian knot of a situation. 

SOPHIE

I’m not dealing with your problems. 

You can talk to Fitz yourself or you 

can deal with it. 

DEX

(Making himself sound useless on purpose)

But, alas, I’m incapable of speaking 

with people in rational terms. Whatever

am I to do? 

SOPHIE

(not buying into DEX’s act)

Don’t make me show you what irrational

terms sound like. 

DEX sighs, defeated. This is going to be unpleasant, but he’s already concocting the bribery he is going to offer KEEFE to make him want to relocate. Preferably without destroying his and SOPHIE’s relationship. 

DEX is also fairly easily convinced to do things he doesn’t want to do while also being immensely stubborn. 

DEX

Fine. 

EXT. RECORDING STUDIO - THE NEXT DAY, DAYLIGHT HOURS 

DEX walks up to the door and argues with himself in his mind before knocking. 

Inside, FITZ sighs and stops playing piano. As he stands, his joints sing the song of their people. Unlocking the door, he finds DEX studying the ground and fidgeting with his sleeve. 

FITZ 

Hello! What can I—

FITZ realizes who is standing in the doorway and drops the polite act. 

FITZ (CONT’D)

(flatly)

—What do you want?

DEX is irritated by this in an effort to not be thinking about how he is engaging in a conversation. 

DEX

Believe it or not, not everything is 

about you. I’m here to speak with 

Keefe.  

FITZ considers this, leaning against the doorframe. 

FITZ

Nah, I don’t believe that one. Besides, 

Keefe isn’t here. I don’t know where 

he is or when he’ll be back. Sorry. 

DEX feels a rush of relief, taking a deep breath. 

DEX

It’s probably futile to ask you to tell

him that I was looking for him, but I’m 

going to hope anyway. 

DEX turns around to leave. 

FITZ 

You’re exactly right. 

DEX

You don’t have to sound so disappointed. 

BIANA (O.S.)

(yelling to be heard from across the studio)

Fitzroy! Stop being so obnoxious! 

BIANA’s voice comes down from a yell to a normal speaking voice as the sentence goes on and she gets close enough to push FITZ out of the doorway and take his place. 

BIANA (CONT’D)

I’m sure Keefe will return sometime 

soon. 

FITZ

(muttering)

Lies. Filth and lies. 

BIANA 

(to FITZ)

He’s going to get hungry sooner or 

later. 

FITZ seems to accept this, rolling his eyes and wandering back to his precious piano.

BIANA

(to DEX)

Can I get you anything? Fitz has an

obsession with baking and we’re

always trying to get rid of the 

aftermath. 

DEX smiles awkwardly as he shakes his head. BIANA turns to not be outdoors anymore and DEX follows her inside. 

DEX

I mean, if you want to sell them at 

Slurps and Burps, I could always

ask my parents. 

DEX shrugs. 

DEX (CONT’D)

I’m sure they’d agree, but I’d rather 

present a possibility than a guarantee, 

you know. 

BIANA

You sound like him.

DEX and FITZ look equally offended by this and avoid eye contact at all costs. 

BIANA takes this opportunity to leave DEX and FITZ together for a length of time while she investigates this route. 

BIANA 

Well, I’ve got some extra time today, 

so I can go ask your parents myself. 

Don’t knock each other off while I’m 

gone, got it? 

FITZ and DEX watch her leave. This is the same door that KEEFE used in the first scene, not the front door. 

FITZ

(yelling after her)

How many times do I have to tell you to

stop meddling in my life?

FITZ huffs. 

DEX gets up to leave out of the front door that is still open. 

FITZ

(irritated and tired)

Where are you going now? 

DEX

…Leaving? 

FITZ

Well, don’t. Biana is going to think 

I’ve planted you in the backyard or

under the floorboards. 

DEX releases an exasperated sigh and sits down on a conveniently placed stool. 

FITZ (CONT’D)

Believe me, I wouldn’t say that unless 

it was absolutely necessary. 

DEX

(his temper finally snaps)

What is your problem, dude? You’ve been 

nothing but rude during the ten minutes

we’ve interacted. I understand if you

don’t like me. That’s understandable. 

But you’re like this toward everyone. I 

can also understand you didn’t want to 

do the gig for whatever reason, but 

instead of being like that about it, you

could’ve figured out a way to sit in 

time out until the last minute. It’s not 

that hard. There’s a very nice storage

closet where I’ve spent more hours than 

I’d like to admit hiding from people.

FITZ’s hands drop forcefully into his lap. 

FITZ

(equally angry)

Why should I explain myself to you? I 

couldn’t care less about what you 

think. I don’t know why you think I 

would. 

DEX

Oh, I don’t know, basic human decency?

I really don’t care if you disagree,

but I tried my best to be pleasant, 

and you made that very, very difficult. 

FITZ

That seems like a you problem. 

DEX

Well, I’m sorry you couldn’t tolerate

a single evening that wasn’t precisely 

what you wanted to do. That must have 

been so hard for you. It’s almost like 

I’m not trapped in that coffee shop 

every single day. 

FITZ

Again, that seems like a you problem. 

I don’t see why I should be concerned 

with a you problem. 

DEX

And I don’t see why I have to put up 

with your—

DEX gestures vaguely at FITZ, unable or unwilling to say what he’s thinking. 

FITZ

(challenging)

My what?

DEX

Your general existence. I don’t want to 

be here as much as you don’t want me to

be here. I would adore being able to 

leave you alone, but it looks like 

neither of us are going to get what we

want. 

FITZ

So you’ve made it your personal mission

to make yourself as infuriating as 

possible in the meantime? 

DEX

I guess so. You didn’t exactly make it

difficult for me. 

The sound of the back door opening stops FITZ from responding. KEEFE enters, mild surprise at seeing DEX but he also doesn’t care that much. 

KEEFE

Did you miss me? 

FITZ and DEX

(in approximate unison) 

No. 

FITZ and DEX look at each other—this is a pretty significant milestone in them agreeing on something. They laugh. 

INT. SLURPS AND BURPS - MIDMORNING

FITZ enters, the doorbell announcing his presence. He makes eye contact with DEX’S SISTER at the counter. 

DEX’S SISTER

Dex! Your friend is here!

DEX appears from the back, expecting SOPHIE or maybe even KEEFE. He has severe dark circles and is immediately irritated by FITZ’s presence. 

DEX’S SISTER trades places with him, though she will be listening to their whole conversation. 

DEX

What do you want this time? 

FITZ

I do believe you’re a tea shop when 

you’re not running from the police, and, 

as such, I’d like a small Earl Grey.

DEX gives him a look. The kind of staredown that requires invocation of the if-looks-could-kill meter. 

DEX takes some of the hot water from the coffee and unwraps a teabag, allowing it to start steeping. 

DEX

And you had to come here for that? 

FITZ

You’ve got the best tea in the shortest

distance from my apartment. 

DEX

You can make tea yourself, you know. 

FITZ

Yes, but, you see, then I have to 

Interact with Keefe. In that case, 

the amount I would spend in bribery is 

significantly greater than venturing 

out into the world. 

DEX

I can almost see that.

DEX hands FITZ the scalding mug of tea. FITZ touches it and flinches away. 

DEX (CONT’D)

Can I get anything else for you today?

FITZ

If you have a least favorite muffin, 

I’ll take one of those. 

DEX studies the muffins for a long second before choosing a victim. It is placed into a white paper bag that is slightly too small for both his hand and a muffin. 

DEX

That’ll be $1.05

FITZ takes out his wallet and slides over a $20. For reference, this is roughly $350 when adjusted for inflation. That is also why the price of a tea and muffin is scaled the way it is. 

DEX’s eyebrows react appropriately to the amount of money this is. 

DEX

(projecting calmness and irritation)

Singlehandedly paying for a week’s rent

isn’t going to make me like you. 

FITZ

Okay. That’s not going to stop me. Just

think of it like a starting point. A 

deposit in exchange for dealing with me

and my—

FITZ gestures vaguely at himself. 

DEX

I’m never going to live that one down, 

am I? 

FITZ

(almost, but not quite, playful)

Not if I have anything to do with it. 

DEX

Lovely. 

FITZ

Careful, I’m willing and able to have 

Keefe perpetuate it even further. 

DEX

I hope you know that my siblings have 

already added it to their very limited

vocabulary, so there’s really no need. 

DEX realizes this may result in additional perpetuity because it sounded like he was trying to make FITZ stop and that means he could take it as a challenge. 

DEX (CONT’D)

Although, I guess there is a constant

need to make me suffer as much as 

possible, so it’s really up to your

discretion. 

FITZ takes the tea, no longer giving him fourth degree burns, and his muffin. 

FITZ

Would you care to dine with me on 

this fine morning? 

DEX makes sure there aren’t too many customers, in case he would be needed to work. There are not. Most of their income comes in after sunset. 

DEX

(loud so his siblings can hear)

Yes, I would like to get paid to not

work. 

FITZ flashes a small smile that DEX does not see.

FITZ and DEX sit at a booth in the corner for minimum visibility. There aren’t many other people and if they get into another argument, they don’t want to be public entertainment. 

DEX

It really is remarkable how determined 

you are to both piss me off and remain

a patron here. 

FITZ

Well, I’m sure you could solve the 

latter fairly quickly. 

DEX gestures widely to the doorway to the kitchen, where his siblings are trying to not be caught eavesdropping. 

DEX

Behold. The reasons I am physically 

incapable of kicking you out. I do that, 

I’m never going to hear the end of it,

and that’ll get out to the rest of our

customers—because of course it will—and

then suddenly they start going down the

street for their mediocre morning coffee. 

FITZ

Well, I’m not a coffee person, so I can’t

review yours, but your Earl Grey is quite

nice. 

DEX lowers his voice conspiratorially. 

DEX

It’s even nicer with a little splash of 

something. If you get what I mean. 

FITZ

(voice low to match)

It’s not even noon yet. 

DEX

Then come back later. Time usually 

travels linearly in the forward 

direction, and then it’ll be after noon

and you’ll have to come up with a new

excuse. If that new excuse just so 

happens to be that it’s not five 

o’clock yet, wait until I tell you about 

what else time can do. It can travel

linearly. In the forward direction. 

DEX’S BROTHER #2 (O.S.)

And we don’t have a band tonight so then

maybe you’ll perform and Dex will be—

DEX turns and points at him. 

DEX

Don’t finish that sentence if you don’t 

want lead poisoning. 

FITZ smiles. 

FITZ

Allegedly. 

DEX

Allegedly. 

DEX turns back to FITZ. 

DEX (CONT’D)

You don’t have to if you don’t want to. 

FITZ

And that sounds like you’re trying to get

rid of me. I’ll see you tonight then. 

FITZ brightens his smile and leaves. DEX doesn’t take any opportunity to argue with him, despite the fact that he has more than enough time to react. 

When the door shuts, DEX releases a big sigh, deflating. 

INT. SLURPS AND BURPS - AROUND SUNDOWN

Slurps and Burps is once again filled with many patrons, and they are once again filling the room with chatter. The piano is already in place, as are BIANA’s saxophone and KEEFE’s drum kit.  

FITZ

(at KEEFE)

Stop looking at me like that. 

KEEFE

(feigned oblivious innocence)

Like what? 

FITZ

You know what you’re doing. Being all 

self-righteous. 

KEEFE

I don’t know what you’re talking about. 

FITZ cycles through a few arguments before deciding it isn’t worth it. 

FITZ

Forget it. We don’t have time to argue 

about this. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I 

do have a small change to the setlist. 

KEEFE

Shouldn’t that have been discussed 

previously? 

FITZ

It’s not like you would care either way.

What’s it you tell me? Fitzroy, it’s 

jazz, nobody cares about the setlist. 

Half of it is already improv. 

KEEFE

That might be accurate, but that doesn’t

mean I like it. 

FITZ turns away, grumbling to himself and searching the crowd for DEX. 

When he does eventually find him, FITZ smiles hesitantly. 

FITZ

So this might be an odd request, but 

please hear me out before you say no. 

DEX

(already irritated)

Go ahead. 

FITZ

(quickly, in a single breath)

I may or may not have a tendency to 

process things by writing songs, which 

I’m sure is a massive surprise 

considering why I’m here. I don’t 

remember exactly why I was talking to 

Sophie a couple of days ago, but that’s 

beside the point. Anyway, I happened to 

be blessed with the songwriting curse 

immediately after she left, and when I 

emerged from the cave, the song’s point

of view was a little wonky. And by that 

I mean, of course, that I tried to 

project into your head, which is really 

weird now that I’m saying it out loud. 

DEX

Calm down. I don’t need you passing out

on me. I don’t want to call Elwin. He’s

already mad at Sophie. I don’t need that. 

FITZ takes a deep, slightly shaky breath. 

FITZ

On a scale of 1 to 10, how likely would

it be that I could ask you really, 

really nicely to do the verse that’s 

attempting, probably very badly, to 

be in your point of view so that I 

don’t have to ask Keefe to do it? 

DEX

About a -7, presuming it’s a logarithmic

scale, but I’ll do it anyway. 

A pause. 

FITZ

Why? 

DEX

Don’t question my motives. Just be 

aware that I don’t know what I’m doing

and if I think about it too long, I’m 

going to go cry in the bathroom, so 

don’t let me think. 

FITZ

Got it. 

A longer pause, FITZ contemplates telling DEX something to help with the fact that his blood pressure is visibly rising. 

BIANA (O.S.)

Fitz! It’s nine. Get going. 

FITZ

(yelling over to BIANA)

Who is this punctual person and what 

have you done to my sister?

FITZ turns back to DEX and pulls a crunched piece of paper out of his pocket. 

FITZ (CONT’D) 

Here’s the lyrics. I didn’t have time to 

formalize any sheet music, but just kind 

of…vibe with the music. That’s kind of 

this whole genre’s mission statement, 

isn’t it? 

DEX

I am regretting my life choices. 

FITZ

I’m sorry to hear that. You’ll be fine, 

though. If not, I’ll bribe everyone with

muffins until the complaints stop. 

DEX

(physically shaking)

Okay. 

FITZ takes his place at the piano, making eye contact with KEEFE. 

FITZ

Trust me, okay?

KEEFE smirks. 

KEEFE

Yeah, of course. I’d let you lead us off

a cliff. 

FITZ

A wouldn’t expect anything less. 

FITZ begins playing an introduction, underscored by low rumblings from KEEFE’s floor tom after the first bar. FITZ’s focus remains squarely on KEEFE.  

FITZ (CONT’D)

(singing) 

HE LEANED OVER THE PIANO

WITH THAT MISCHIEVOUS GLINT IN HIS EYE. 

HE’S BEEN THINKING ABOUT SOMETHING

AND NOW THERE’S NO GOING BACK. 

The tempo ticks upward as KEEFE’s drums develop into a polyrhythm. FITZ leans back, his gaze landing on the ceiling. 

FITZ (CONT’D)

THE WORLD IS ALWAYS MOVING FORWARD

I’M HANGING ON TO WHAT I’VE ALWAYS KNOWN

WHAT I’VE KNOWN HAS GOTTEN ME THIS FAR

WHY BOTHER CHANGING THAT?

FITZ finally looks at DEX, his irritation over the past few days on full display in his tone. The instrumentation drops out for a beat. 

FITZ (CONT’D)

WHY DO YOU HAVE TO BE SO DIFFICULT WITH ME?

WHY DO YOU FIND SUCH PLEASURE ANGERING ME?

IF I COULD LEAVE, I PROMISE I WOULD, 

BUT I DON’T HAVE A WAY TO ESCAPE. 

I DON’T HAVE A WAY TO RUN AWAY FROM THIS PLACE

AND SO I’LL KEEP ON OCCUPYING YOUR SPACE. 

DEX’s voice is so soft even the people standing next to him probably cannot hear him. He’s staring firmly at the ground. It’s not exactly symmetrical in the vocals or instrumentation with the first verse, but there’s no need for it to be. 

DEX 

(singing) 

SHE’S ALWAYS MY WORST INFLUENCE

BY PUSHING ME OUTSIDE MY COMFORT ZONE. 

IF ONLY SHE WOULD UNDERSTAND

I WANT TO FIND AN ESCAPE. 

DEX gains a bit more confidence, staring at FITZ’s shoes and singing slightly louder. 

DEX (CONT’D)

THE WORLD IS ALWAYS MOVING FORWARD, 

I’M STILL RUNNING FROM WHAT I’VE ALWAYS KNOWN. 

WHAT I’VE KNOWN HAS GOTTEN ME THIS FAR

WHAT MORE CAN LIE AHEAD? 

DEX fixes a death glare on FITZ. 

DEX (CONT’D)

WHY DO YOU HAVE TO BE SO DIFFICULT WITH ME? 

WHY DO YOU FIND SUCH PLEASURE ANGERING ME?

IF I COULD LEAVE, I PROMISE I WOULD, 

BUT I DON’T HAVE A WAY TO ESCAPE

I DON’T HAVE A WAY TO RUN AWAY FROM THIS PLACE

AND SO I’LL KEEP ON OCCUPYING YOUR SPACE. 

Two bars of SILENCE echo through the room. 

FITZ and DEX 

(start softly, crescendoing)

IF I STAY HERE AND YOU STAY THERE

I’LL STOP STEPPING ON YOUR TOES 

IF WE PRETEND LIKE NONE OF US CARE

MAYBE IT’LL COME TRUE. 

THAT DOESN’T MEAN THAT I’LL EVER LIKE YOU

AND YOU DON’T HAVE TO LIKE ME. 

PACIFY THE ELDER GODS 

AND THEN WE’LL BOTH BE—FREE. 

There is a long break, filled with instrumentation. BIANA and her saxophone have a whole narrative arc. DEX goes and runs off into the back, trying to never be seen again. 

FITZ

WHY DO YOU HAVE TO BE SO DIFFICULT WITH ME?

WHY DO YOU FIND SUCH PLEASURE ANGERING ME?

IF I COULD LEAVE, I PROMISE I WOULD, 

BUT I DON’T HAVE A WAY TO ESCAPE. 

I DON’T HAVE A WAY TO RUN AWAY FROM THIS PLACE

AND SO I’LL KEEP ON OCCUPYING YOUR SPACE.