Fourth Floor

Apartment #411

[Sharp intake of breath.]

"Wow, you look beautiful."

"Oh, thanks, um...Ha, don't even bother trying to tell me that. I know I look like hell."

"Lacey, you're always beautiful to me."

"Pfft, okay, you can stop that now."

"How's the arm?"

"It still hurts. A lot. But I'm getting used to it, I guess. Thanks for being here with me."

"No problem, baby. That's what girlfriends are for, yeah?"

"..."

"What happened, Lacey?"

"Oh. Nothing."

"Was it the mention of that word?"

[Sheepish grin.]

"Maybe."

[Soft sigh.]

"I'm sorry for saying it. I know how you feel about our relationship. I shouldn't have said it."

"No, it's okay. I need to stop avoiding it. After all, this is...who we are. There's no escaping."

"..."

"..."

"I just wish you'd stop feeling so ashamed-"

"I don't! I don't. I...I love you, darling. I just...still need to get used to it."

"Lacey, It's funny how it's easier for you to get used to a broken arm than to whatever we have."

"Don't get mad over this."

"...I...I have work. I'll be back in the evening."

"It's Sunday."

"I have work."

"No, Brittney. Don't go - Not like this."

"..."

"I'm sorry...I love you! Please stay and we'll sort this out!"

[Loud bang of door.]

"Brittney? Brittney, come back!"

[Dry sob.]

"My arm really hurts, Brit. I need help. Why'd you have to leave like - ow! My arm..."