Paint It Black Page #3

a ten-second rule.

Josie?

Por favor?

You can relax.

You've already made it

into the lion's stomach.

You don't have to worry

about its bite.

What do you want to drink?

Alcohol.

Thank you.

Would you... would you...

Put another log on the fire?

Could you do another one?

I'm freezing.

Gently, gently.

And then just

open a little gap,

about... about an inch

so it'll draw.

Josie, you can't drive

in your condition.

- I can't live

in my condition.

Ow.

Hey.

"I am not sportif."

What are you doing?

You have no right to go

through his things,

not without my permission.

I'm sorry.

You can see your own way out.

Here you go.

Sorry I'm late.

- It's okay.

- Had to stop at the bank.

So.

Listen.

It's a thriller.

It's very psychological.

Sort of antonioni

meets buuel.

A story of lovers

caught in purgatory.

It's called "in pergatoria."

- Listen...

- You must be in it.

I wrote it for you.

Jeremy, okay,

just need one minute

of silence to eat,

okay?

Friday, 5:
00 A.M.

Nod yes, and I leave.

Nod yes...

And I leave.

- Hi.

- Jesus.

What are you doing here?

- I heard you needed

a model, right?

- Yeah, but...

- Yeah.

Not you, Josie.

- Why?

- 'Cause...

I'd heard about...

And I'm so sorry.

- It's... yeah...

- I'm s...

- Fine.

- I'm so... you shouldn't be here.

- I mean...

- - What?

- Josie, the way you're in...

And you should be home.

- No.

No-no-no-no-no-no-no.

Please, I don't want to go home.

- Seriously, you gotta be...

Take care.

- I don't want to... li...

That's the last place

I should be right now, okay?

So please, Phil?

- Please.

Okay?

- O... okay.

- Please... yes?

Thank you, thank you, thank you.

Oh, my gosh.

It's actually not that boring.

- Hmm.

Bach believed

the world made sense.

He believed in god.

Now...

Listen to brahms.

Let me play you some of him.

How did you find me here?

I just wanted to apologize

for the way

i spoke to you this morning.

It wasn't right.

It's just... it's...

Everything's just...

You know.

But I could buy you lunch.

Not hungry.

Drink?

I know you're

as hungover as I am.

Hair of the dog, for Michael?

Thank you.

Thanks.

Did you ever take Michael

to lunches like these?

Uh,

when he was a little boy, yes.

But later on

he couldn't bear it,

too many fat cats.

I bet he never once took you

to a decent restaurant.

Mm.

No.

We mainly just ate at home.

You poor thing.

Michael couldn't boil water.

Michael was a great cook,

actually.

He had all these cookbooks.

We even had this little garden

with, like, herbs and stuff.

Once he cooked a whole fish

from the Chinese market,

with the head and the tail

still on.

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