Late Night Lover (Audio Script)

Stories

“And then… and then the waiter just standing there—‘Anything else I can get for you, madam?’”

“Do you realize how close we just were to getting kicked out?

Oh my god, the look on his face when you chugged straight from the champagne bottle—”

“Stuffy assholes.

They’re going to regret that whole open bar thing. Oh, it feels soooo nice out here.

I just need a minute to cool off and we can go back in.”

“How did you get invited to this party?

It’s insane—that was the mayor I saw, right?”

“Oh, I didn’t get invited.

I don’t know anyone here.

Just heard about it online and, you know, I can pretty much talk my way into anywhere I want.”

You…

you are… like no one I’ve ever met before.

A whirlwind.

A breath of fresh air I didn’t know I needed.

I was bored three months ago.

Bored of this city.

Of my job.

Of myself.

And then I met you.

By accident, really.

You were struggling in the doorway of your four-story walkup with an absurdly large Christmas tree.

I offered to help you take it up to your apartment… on the top floor.

You offered me a drink as repayment and…

I don’t know.

It was one of the quickest friendships I ever formed.

There was an instant connection between us.

We were both desperate to get more out of life than what we had.

Me, a fledgling screenwriter.

You, a graphic designer with dreams of one day dropping your own clothing line.

I think we just sensed the same struggles in each other.

And now, here I am, at three o’clock in the morning on the rooftop of the most expensive hotel in the city.

With you.

I’ve told everyone I’ve met tonight that I’m some German film financier here to scout locations for my new studio.

Or that I’m the heir to an Austrian real estate dynasty.

We’ve pretended to be people we’re not, just for fun.

I’ve drunk champagne worth more than my monthly rent payment.

All because of you and your charm.

I’m not sure why, but tonight feels like the right time to tell you the truth.

That I don’t think I can just be friends with you any longer.

That… I think I might be in love with you.

“Damn, look at the stars tonight.

The moon is huge.

Hey, where should we go after this?”

“After?”

“Hey, sorry to interrupt.

Anyone have a light?”

Oh…

I didn’t realize anyone else was up here on the roof with us.

Damn it.

I want to get a minute alone with you.

“No, sorry.”

“Uh… no, me neither.”

“Damn.

Ah, probably a sign I should quit.

Bad habit, I know.”

She’s taller than you, just by a little.

Her dress makes her look like she’s wrapped tightly in reams of silver.

She doesn’t seem like the other guests down at the party.

They’re all of a certain class—older, wealthy.

She seems a bit more like us.

Outsiders.

“Uh, Margot.

There’s something I—”

“Man, it’s such a nice night.”

Shit.

I thought she was going to leave, but now she’s standing between us.

She leans against the railing with grace, her arm nearly touching mine.

Maybe tonight isn’t the right time to tell you.

But I feel like it’s going to come out sooner or later, whether I want it to or not.

“So, you two patrons of the city’s historical society?

Or… are you maybe doing a little gate-crashing tonight?”

She’s speaking to both of us, but looking directly at me.

She’s gorgeous, and if it were any other night I’d be more receptive to her, but it’s you who I’m focused on.

You, who I so desperately want to confess my feelings to.

“Caught us.

We heard there was an open bar.

Ooh, look, Virgo is super visible tonight.”

“Where?”

“There…

looks like a headless person dancing.

You see it?”

“Oh, yeah, yeah, I think so.

So weird you say that.

I’m a Virgo.”

“What?

No way!

So is Peter!”

I look up from the railing.

Both of you are staring at me.

She’s biting down on her bottom lip just slightly.

And you… there’s a look in your eyes.

You’re trying to tell me…something.

We’ve developed a whole silent language of our own over these last few months.

Just from a little twitch of my lip, you can tell if I’m having a good time or just pretending to. I can always sense when you’re restless by the way you dig through your purse.

But right now, I have no idea what you’re thinking.

“Well, nice to meet you, Peter the Virgo.

I’m Alana.”

“Uh—yeah, nice to meet you.

Alana.”

“I’m Margot.

You know, they say Virgos are actually really highly compatible with each other.”

“Oh, yeah?

Good to know.”

Oh… oh no.

Now I recognize that look you’re giving me from behind Alana.

You’re trying to play matchmaker.

It’s probably because of that conversation we had last week.

About how much I missed having a partner.

That I love being in love.

Damn it, Margot.

I’m trying to hit on you, not her!

I mean, she really is beautiful.

That dress does look incredible.

And she seems interesting.

This is suddenly very complicated.

“Well, um, you know, it’s late, so maybe we should just—”

“You’re not thinking of going home already, are you?”

“Of course he isn’t.

Don’t be shy, Peter.