Writing in the night… A scene

I’m currently sitting at my desk, trying to move my writing forward. I have this play. I like it, but I’m struggling with the end. And also just writing it well. I have the story. SOME of the language. But God. So I thought I’d post one of the scenes here. Just to put it out there. I dunno why, guess I’m hoping someone’ll read it. And think something about it? And maybe because I also KNOW that my trusted family and a fair few friends who have been forced will read it. So… here it is;


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Persephone stands there thinking. She walks towards the middle of the stage and around her,
and ends up on a big staircase. It’s outside, probably around Trafalgar square, it’s late evening, and a young short man Faustino sits near by her. She sits down In a capitulated manner. Faustino looks over.)
F: It is a bad night?
P: Sorry?
F: It is a bad night?
P: Do you think so?
F: No I asked you, it is a bad night?
P: Ah, I see. Er… no. It’s good.
F: Why you look so sad?
P: Er… sorry? What?
F: You are all.. (huffs and puffs and sighs.)
P: Ah. (laughs.) I see. No, I’m just tired.
F: What have you been doing?
P: Er… I’ve just done a showcase.
F: A what? What is that?
P: Oh, It’s er… a sort of theatre performance.
F: Oh! Theatre! What was it about?
P: Nothing… It is about nothing. It doesn’t have a story. It’s pointless. It tells small stories, but they never really make an impression… they never move anyone, or change someone’s mind about something, or state something important. The purpose of the whole thing is… prostitution. Almost. The actors are can-can dancers… or Geisha’s. Strutting about in front of an audience of  men in top hats. Agents. And the agents see someone they like. And writes the price they are willing to pay down on a leaflet they have, with the names and measurements, photos and so called “Skills” written down on it. Like a cattle market, like a… I don’t know. And then after the sparkly show-off shabazzle is over… The actors all stand around in a room. Clutching on to a glass of champagne, with a big smile on their face, mingling, schmoozing, hoping, praying, like it is the most important thing in the entire world, like it is the most important moment of their lives, their so important careers, that they get approached by one of the agents.  And then, to achieve their ultimate goal, which is to get signed. Oooh, to get signed!
F: Signed?
P: Yeah, Signed… oh, never mind.
F: You sound angry.
P: I believe the more appropriate term is bitter. But the truth is, I’m not. I know it sounds it. And everyone would say the same. But I’m over it. It takes something really fucking awful to happen in your life to get a real perspective on things. And realize what life is really about.
F: What happened to you?
P: Oh… nothing.
F: Well, at least, you know, better. Than they do.
P: Yes, but I’d rather it never fucking happened to me, and being ignorant. I think. I don’t know.  Sorry.
F: Don’t say sorry. Don’t be sorry. I do theatre too me.
P: Oh yes? Well then you know what I mean…
F: No, It different.
P: Where are you from?
F: Italy.
P: Oh, cool.
F: I do circus.
P: Really? How cool.
F: Yeah. I do acrobat, fire, juggle, ropes, you know big ropes hanging, silk…
P: Yeah, yeah…
F: I do trampoline. But I fucked my back you know.
P: Oh, no…
F: Yes. I am resting now. And just working a little.
P: Oh yeah? What do you do?
F: I do the restaurant. I do the restaurant with my brother. I clean. And I give food to customers.
P: Ok. I do that too. I barely get by! It’s so hard… The rent is so expensive. And the council tax. I don’t understand… and the bills.  I’m just happy when I get the rent out of the way, and then… you know. It is annoying. Never being able to buy anything. But that’s fine by me. I knew it was going to be this way when… When I chose to be an actress. Stupid… Stupid profession.
F: I don’t think it stupid profession.  But why you pay the rent?
P: what do you mean?
F: I can’t be bothered with that man…
I don’t pay it. Me and my brother and two friends, we squat. No problem. If not, all money you work for disappear.
P: yes, but… Yeah, but you’ve gotta pay the rent!
F: No. No man. The queen say it legal. We stay there. Polie come. We say, we are squatting. And we are not leaving. It empty anyway. We clean it. And make it look nice. We no trouble.
P: Hah. Well, each to their own…
F: why don’t you squat man?
P: I can’t do that… I don’t want to get into trouble…
F: It no trouble man…
P: Well, maybe not short term… but I want to stay here. I want to become an English citizen.
F: Why?
P: Well… I… like it.
F: This is shitty. Grey. Cold. Never blue sky. Dirt everywhere. Smell. Bad food.
P: Then WHY are YOU here?
F: Easy.
P: what? What do you mean easy?
F: Everything easy. I just, juggle in street, I get money, I sit around, smoke a spliff, I clean a table, sit in the kitchen doing a line of coke at work… I live in a nice place… many peoples want to work with me. These two musicians saw me in the street, and they want to work with me man. If I want drugs, easy. If I want anything… easy.
P: Yeah, if you do it that way!  I’m… Well, nice to meet you.  I’m going, going to catch a train home…
F: Nice to meet you.  (Smells leans back, and lights a spliff.)
(Persephone looks around in her bag. She is looking for her train ticket but can’t find it.)
P: Fuck! Oh… no. Shit… crap… God.
F: what is it?
P: What? Oh, no… I’ve… I’ve just lost my train ticket. And… I have no money.  
F: Don worry. I got money man.
(Takes out a tenner from his pocket and reaches out his hand. Persephone looks at him. And takes it.)
P: thank you.
F: No problemo!
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