Waking beauty or
Wake Up
and
Smell the Rot
A three act play
by
Alexandra Ares
SETTING
First act takes place in Bucharest in 1990.
Second Act takes place in Bucharest in 1997.
Third Act takes place in New York 1.1.05.
List of Characters:
Passer-bys: #1, #2, #3, #4, #5.
SALESWOMAN - acts like a bouncer
NOSTALGIA – late 40s Swedish woman looking for a boy toy .
DORIAN GRAY - a mid 30s man, macho style.
ONDA - at the age of 17-18, poor, sweet and innocent; at the age of 25, glamorous model and actress, superficial and deep, endearing and bitchy; at the age of 32 almost perfect in NYC style. This actress has to be played by a feisty beautiful actress who looks convincing at all the three ages.
DAN, The Husband early 50s, well off financially, outgoing, overweight.
JULIE, The Mother - Under 40, looks good.
JULIETTE, the Little Girl Her daughter, about 9-10 years old
KEEV, 35-40 yrs old. A combination of Marquis de Sade, Karl Marx and Boy George. This character must be played by an actor with exceptional charisma, tall, striking handsome with long wavy jet black hair. The most peculiar thing about him is that he gives voice to putrid stuff with the pretense and eloquence of a 17th century French poet, and no matter what horrible things he is going to say the public likes him.
ELVIS FISHSTICK - Late 20s, handsome, clean cut, quite charming...until he opens his mouth.
JACK - The Friend Mid or late 30s, medium to short build, dark rimmed glasses, amoral and amusing; He is wealthy and slick and moves with poise.
SAM – New York starving playwright.
ACT ONE
SCENE:
The stage has two levels. On the upper level we see a shabby big bed with a terrible mosquito net all around it. We can hear noise of mosquitoes. It's dark, and is hard to tell who is in bed, but the person there jolts every now and then annoyed by mosquitoes. There is just a faint blue light on the bed.
ACT I, SCENE 1
VOICE OVER: "Bucharest. Romania. 1990. One year after the fall of the Iron curtain. People are free, the stores are not empty anymore, they are full with all these amazing goods ...a Dollar a piece ... from Turkey and China, cheap stuff, yeah, but right now, this year they flicker like diamonds, all people are still equal thus broke...but they are pure...they have ideals...they've been holding out for years...there was nothing to sell their souls for...they are so innocent...for now.“
The stage goes pitch dark and silent for a second, then eerie blue light appears on the lower lever appears allowing us to see the exterior of a shabby store with a long line of women waiting. The women can be extras or projected on the back wall. They should be mostly good looking, with a few hilariously ugly for comic effect.
Close to the front door we see a woman who looks like a salesclerk and acts like a bouncer. Viridiana is next in line. She is about 17-18 year old, pure, innocent and dressed very poorly.
SALESWOMAN: Your name please.
VIRIDIANA: Viridiana. (She shyly hands the saleswoman a note.)
SALESWOMAN(crude):This is not a church to hand me a written prayer. Here you ASK for what you want. Speak up.
VIRIDIANA:I want a man.
SALESWOMAN(professionally): We have wimps, jerks and cads. And some me-too brands in between. What flavor would you prefer?
VIRIDIANA: None of these. Well...I’d like a man...MAN. Good looking, athletic, well read, well bred, honest, great manners, good teeth… there gotta be something exceptional about him. Heroic. Something unusual…so I can know he’s the one. Clean money; not stolen or from bribes.
SALESWOMAN: Sorry, we don’t have that brand.
VIRIDIANA: You haven't got merchandise?
SALESWOMAN: (offended): Oh, no. Its all full stocks. We get supplied very well but that flavor is simply missing on the market right now. It comes along quite rarely, about once every other 10,000 items. We reserve it for our most valued customers.
VIRIDIANA: But who can afford to buy 10.000 pieces?
SALESWOMAN: Nobody. That’s why we don’t have any. In America I hear they’re better supplied. If you ever go there, take my advice and give it a try. The quality of the ware is superior. The goods make sport regularly, dress better, eat better, live better. Different air, different breed: Good boys, sly boots and super sly boots. I heard they last longer. The expiration date on their labels is practically unlimited.
VIRIDIANA: Sounds to good to be true. Maybe it’s nothing more than a rumor. Why "no" here and "yes" there? What's going on?
SALESWOMAN: Honestly?
VIRIDIANA: Honestly.
SALESWOMAN: Here after thirty they get a belly pot, they start balding, they get a double chin. Their gaze change. Their eyes glaze over of defeat, which is depressing, or of impudence, which is annoying. None of these two looks are in demand. They bring down the expiration date. That's way we sometimes falsify the labels...like all stores do.
VIRIDIANA: (with naïve bewilderment): If the ware’s of such law quality how come the customers don’t complain to the Better Business Bureau?
SALESWOMAN: The commission puts up with it. Everybody puts up with it. Where you ain't got something, God himself can’t ask for it. Besides, look at this disclaimer: The sold ware can always be returned and replaced, at no cost. You take a nice sweet POS…
VIRIDIANA: (with naïve bewilderment):I beg your pardon. What is a POS?
SALESWOMAN: It’s our store code for Parent Over Shoulder. Or, Piece Of Shit. A drip…The Omega male. You take him, keep him for a while, afterwards you come here, and replace it with a cack.
VIRIDINANA:(puzzled): A cack?
SALESWOMAN: A churl, a creep, a boor, a chuff, a clodhopper, a cad! You keep him much as you can stand then you come here and replace it for a city slicker or a charming bumbler.
VIRIDIANA: (more puzzled):A bumbler?
SALESWOMAN: Whatever… an ass, brute, fool, idiot, jackass, nincompoop, ninny, rascal, scamp, schmo, schmuck, tomfool. (Gasps for air). And when the time comes, you rest again with a nice moffie or with a spoiled chichi.
VIRIDIANA: (same as before) A spoiled chichi?
SALESWOMAN: A mama’s boy, a chicken! A cream puff, an epicene, a faggy, a fairy, a foppish, a fruity, a lily, a limp wrist, a milksop…
VIRIDIANA(same as before):A milksop?
SALESWOMAN: A Nancy, a girlie girl, a pantywaist!
VIRIDIANA: A pantywaist?
SALESWOMAN: Yeah, a pretty boy, a puss, sappy, a sissy, a swish, a twinkie, Mr. Softee. And then you start all over again. Our customers have no time to get bored. Women have fun trying and changing the goods, and this keeps the business alive. So, did you make up your mind? What do you want to buy?
VIRIDIANA: That’s all you have?
SALESWOMAN: Well, yes.
VIRIDIANA: Everything?
SALESWOMAN: We do have half-pints…but…
VIRIDIANA: Half-pints?
SALESWOMAN: You know, bucks, cadets, chips, punks, puppies, runts, small fries, tadpoles, whippersnappers…But they’re not for girls…(beat) Like you.
VIRIDIANA: I'll think about it...I’d prefer to wait until...
SALESWOMAN: Honey, it’s useless to wait! You either take one and or give up, become a nun. See how many women are behind you? Hurry up. Make up your mind. Buy now, or you may lose out. We may have nothing left for later. Just the barren, the fruitless, the impotent…
VIRIDIANA (horrified):The impotent?
SALESWOMAN (With more dignity: yeah, the infertile, sterile, unfruitful, the unprolific…and then if you keep waiting, it’s going to be even worse…
VIRIDIANA: Worse? What can be worse?
SALESWOMAN: The aged, the ailing, the debilitated, the decrepit, the failing, the infirm, the lame, the woozy, the puny, the languid, the zeros! So? (Viridiana is on the fence) C’mon. Buy now! (Viridian steps forward) Good girl. Come in. (Viridiana enters the shop) Next one please!
(The next is a foreign woman in her later 40s, blond, maybe Swedish)
SALESEWOMAN: Your name, please.
NOSTALGIA: Nostalgia.
SALESWOMAN: (write her on a register): O.K. And what can I do for you?
NOSTALGIA (with strong, funny accent): I’d like to buy a Latin man. Romanian men are Latin, aren’t they?
SALESWOMAN: Yeah. Sure. Haven't you been here last summer?
NOSTALGIA: Ya, I was in the area. So what’s new?
SALESWOMAN: How about the sensitive type? They’re raised by their excellent moms like flowers in a little pot. They need watering every day and extra care. The caretaker must be gentle yet powerful and well off to support them. They’re very frail, they can’t make it on their own, although they can have some ego issues. But on the whole, they’re soft. Really soft. They come with options…They’re gonna adore you, worship you, wash your panties, be your slaves.
NOSTALGIA: Yum…And what’s the Romanian name of the brand?
SALESWOMAN: Futalou.
NOSTALGIA: (Check the word in the dictionary and babbles in a very weird Romanian)
Fu - ta- low. FUT - LOW... "FUT" means fuck in Romanian. Fuck low? Oh, no. Anything else?
SALESWOMAN: How about the macho brand? Charming show offs, will manhandle you on occasion…be the master…
NOSTALGIA: Yum…Sounds powerful and exotic. And what's the name of the Romanian brand?
SALESWOMAN: Mitocan.
NOSTALGIA: (check the word in the dictionary and bubbles): Mittel - can. Mittel means medium. So all that fuss for a guy who can.... just medium. Oh, no! What else you've got?
SALESWOMAN(annoyed):Well…
NOSTALGIA:(gives her a tip): Something more exciting…(dreamingly) a lover boy, a make out artist, a lady killer, an night owl, an operator, a heavy hitter, a pleasure seeker, a player, a flirt, a gallant…a great lay!
SALESWOMAN: (suddenly nicer as she receives the tip): You mean a playboy? Of course. Of course.
NOSTALGIA: Wonderful. Two pieces, please.
SALESWOMAN: (opens the door and Nostalgia enter the shop): Two? What for? Threesomes or spare parts?
NOSTALGIA: Strategy. When the first one is gonna play me, stop calling and expect me to wait for him to come around, I waste no time, and I play with the other one. And when the second ones starts playing me, I go back to play with the first one…I’m good.
SALESWOMAN: Honey, you do whatever you want with your ware. Come in…(Nostalgia goes inside) Next customer please! (This time a guy comes along. He is in his early thirties, wears a linen Armani black suit and a black tank top with a generous view on his plentiful hairy chest, he appears slightly stoned) Your name…
DORIAN GRAY: DORIAN GRAY.
SALESWOMAN: Are you from here or...
DORIAN GRAY:I emigrated to Canada after the last elections. Hated the regime here. But I’m back. I wanna settle down and repatriate.
SALESWOMAN: Are you crazy?
DORIAN GRAY: They have no good women there. I gathered here’s still plenty…
SALESWOMAN: Yes, plenty. What flavor would you like? (she s going to pause briefly waiting for a reaction after each offer): Beautiful and nice? Or Gorgeous and bitchy? Model Type? Wifey? Early home every day? Sweet? Aggressive? Silent? Chatty? Day-dreamer? Go getter? Submissive? A dominatrix?
DORIAN GRAY: Nah.
SALESWOMAN: Or maybe a floozy? A bimbo? A harlot, a hooker, a party girl, some arm candy?
DORIAN GRAY: Nah. Not this time.
SALESWOMAN: No bad girls?
DORIAN GRAY: Nah. Not this time.
SALESWOMAN: A femme fatale?
DORIAN GRAY:(seems tempted: I like them…but, nah. Not this time.
SALESWOMAN: An actress?
DORIAN GRAY: Too self centered.
SALESWOMAN: A model?
DORIAN GRAY: Too prima donna.
SALESWOMAN: A nymphet?
DORIAN GRAY: (Seems tempted): Hmmm…A nymphet? Yum.
SALESWOMAN: Ya, a little baby doll? A bobby-soxer? A butterfly? A cupcake? A debutante? A maiden? A schoolgirl?(deep breath)A virgin?
DORIAN GRAY: I don’t know…I’ve tried them all…
SALESWOMAN: Then what are you looking for?
DORIAN GRAY: In the mornings when I'm hung over .... before I sleep like a log...I dream of woman who's beautiful and fair and home early... a woman to truly love me ... and to take good care of me...A woman with who it’s a pleasure to talk with, to fight with, to sleep with...This kind of woman.
SALESWOMAN: Oh, now I remember. The girl from the other shift told me about you.
DORIAN GRAY (annoyed): She did?
SALESWOMAN: You come here every summer and you’re always asking me for the same stuff. She’s been selling you that brand over and over again. Let's check her ledger: last summer you bought 99 units like that. She gave you everything we’ve got. We ain't got nothing no more. We’ve ran out of that brand…
DORIAN GRAY (laughing): Nonsense! It's impossible!
SALESWOMAN: Sir!
DORIAN GRAY: You know why? (Takes a smoke of pot. Enlightened) Because they are all like that! All of them. (Proud and jolly) We’re the ones who blast them every single time…
SALESWOMAN: It's your business what you’re doing with the ware, after you buy it. I repeat: This brand is out.
DORIAN GRAY: Come on! There must be some under the table. (He gives her a tip) The last one. I swear. This time I'll be good...
SALESWOMAN: The last one?
DORIAN GRAY: I swear.
SALESWOMAN: O.K. THE LAST ONE...it will be very hard ... NOSTALGIA …(Dorian Gray makes a face like he’s not interested) or VIRIDIANA (he makes a face like he’s interested) But even her... I doubt she’s gonna go for it.
ACT 1, SCENE 2
(They both enter the shop. The stage goes dark. Behind the store we see and hear a firestorm, weird noises, flashes of light, firecrackers, yelling, like in a cartoon when the mouse tears down the house. Then, pitch black and spot light on the upper stage. We see the actress who played Viridiana earlier, waking up. She looks the same: pure, sweet and innocent, and she’s wearing a gray worn out camisole with holes in it).
ONDA: What a nightmare! That Bunuel film last night was really shocking. And that man, Dorian Gray, where did he come from? My mind is such a ball of fire sometimes.
(Tries to go to sleep, mosquitoes are biting her and making noise. She is going to speak with a comical exaggerated naiveté):
I can't sleep. It’s hot…I’m hungry...(talking to the audience) Maybe it’s the mosquitoes...That’s why I can’t sleep. They’re burning holes through my camisole...I've had it for years, how dare they? Is not that I don't have money, (she addresses the audience with royal dignity) I do have money, but who cares how I look in bed? Nobody ever sees me in bed. This is my turf! No men allowed, until I meet my one and only love. I’m a good girl.”
(Beat. Then, continues as before addressing the audience)
I have money. Plenty. I work in a clothes store. I make about 100 dollars a month. But every time I get my paycheck, I spend it on a pretty dress. There are so many beautiful clothes in the store! I wish I could buy them all! Someday...This store used to be empty, until last year. Now, that Ceausescu’s gone, we have all these wonderful things...Jeans, sneakers…where did they keep all these beautiful things all along? Did they keep them hidden in some warehouse far away? (pause) I’m so hungry...if mom were alive she'd tell me to stop doing that. That is, go to sleep with no food, so I can buy all these pretty dresses...I’m bad. Until last year, I was buying a new one every year. And they all looked like my grandma's...now I buy one every month. I splurge. (pause) I miss mom...mom was so elegant, and so beautiful, and she only bought one dress a year...how did she manage to do it?
(Phone rings)
ONDA: (In the receiver): Hi…Wonderful…12 o’clock, here? Sure.
(Hangs up. Talks to the audience as before)
Yesterday I met this man Dan, who just called me. He’s a bit old, and a bit heavy, but he seemed so kind! He came with a fantastic car, when he parked it in front of the store the traffic stopped. He lives downtown, in a big mansion he told me. He got lost, he needed directions. Then, as I explained to him how to get the hell out of this bad neighborhood, he told I looked me like an actress or a model...Then, he asked me if I ever wanted to do something like this…go to acting school? It was so kind of him...even if it were a lie. He pretended he cared about my life. No one ever pretends that. He’s the same age as Dad, but so much kinder! Dad is always raging about stuff! He always yells...No wonder mom died so young. But Dad was pretty dashing when he was young…What happens to us, why do we change for the worse in time? It’s so bad…
(She is getting dressed, and puts on a white outfit that looks out of fashion but still it makes her look deliciously innocent, ...the door bell rings).
...Must be Dan. Can’t believe is noon already. I overslept. Today! The first day in my life when I go out to have lunch in an expensive restaurant with a man. The truth is I’ve never been to a cheap restaurant with a man either. But I’m not going to tell him that.
(Door rings again)
He’s gonna want to touch me, kiss me, and I’m gonna say no, and he’s gonna try to do t again, and again, and I’m still gonna say no. And I'll keep saying no until I finish high school. Mom said to wait and do it only after I go to college. Dad is more strict. He wants me to get married first. For a woman it’s different he said. She gets damaged. (The bell rings) I’m coming, I’m coming…
(Takes a small mirror from her purse and takes one last look at herself, then she looks about the room. She is dressed in white and looks exquisite, in contrast with the squalor of her room)
What a shabby place! I’m like a lotus flower ...emerging from all this crap...but of course, I’ll tell him I have a super nice apartment, and a super nice dad, and super nice everything…
(When she puts on her mirror back, she finds a tiny white envelope, and she takes a card from it).
ONDA: "What’s that? Oh, my God. Must be from Dan. When did he slip it into my purse?
(She opens it):
"Marry me”.
Marry me? He'd only seen me once? Must be bullshit to get my legs open.
(The door rings again increasingly impatient)
He’s so impatient. Maybe it’s love at first sight...
(As the door rings furiously she walks out and tosses one more to the audience)
Bullshit? Or love at first sight?
(the door rings on the cue of love at first sight)
ONDA: Love at first sight!
ACT 2
ACT II, SCENE 1
Voice Over: "Bucharest, seven years later. 1997, a whole new ballgame. The stakes are higher.”
SCENE: Bucharest. Daylight. Beginning of fall. A square with a couple of benches, a statue of the Sleeping Beauty awakened by Prince Charming, two townhouses left and right, and a street heading backstage. The back wall is white with a projection screen that will be used throughout the play.
Onda, now a model, a glamorous young woman, is pacing feverishly back and forth. She has long wavy hair, black sunglasses, high heels, a black sheer wind coat over what appears to be little or nothing. She holds two kittens in a velvet purse. Each gust of wind brings a smattering of copper leaves and unveils her beautiful legs. At every glimpse of her legs, passer-bys are making comments, ranging from nice to disgusting.
PASSER BY #1: HEY GORGEOUS!
PASSERBY #2:WOW! WOW!
PASSER BY #3: THAT’S MY TYPE OF WOMAN.
PASSER BY #4: SWEETIE, TELL ME HOW MUCH YOU WANT AND WE HAVE A DEAL.
PASSER BY #5: HAVE YOU SEEN HER LEGS? NOW THAT’S A HAPPY BIRTHDAY!
(The light fades in. The passer-bys get still. The stage is dark. Spot on Onda):
ONDA: I’m burning! I’m head over heels. He set my heart and mind on fire! I can’t stop thinking of him. What’s the truth? Is he a zero? Or a genius? Is he eccentric? Or embarrassing? Is he for real? Or is he a con artist? Oh, who cares? I feel so alive. The more scandalous the more exciting. I’m crazy. Yesterday life was OK without him. Now everything is bland without him. I spent hours, days and nights with so many men, and it’s like I’ve never heard an interesting thought! Never got high when I looked in their eyes. Something inside my chest was always asleep. He awakened it. He woke everything up. (Beat). When I’m with him, my heart skips a beat. I get goose bumps. Butterflies in my stomach…I hate them…Oh my God, I must have lost my mind. Everything is just emptytainment…and look: I’m already borrowing his made-up slang.
(Beat).
This man pushes me to do something…I’ve always dreamed to do.
(Beat)
Today I am going to kill… my husband. (Beat) For him.
FILM/PROJECTON
(Lights fade in. On the projection screen backstage we see a nightclub where alternative music is playing. We see a young man, very tall, charismatic, manly, with his jet black hair loosely put up with a red bow in a womanly fashion. His bare feet are in slippers, and he’s wearing a vintage communist worker robe over a pair of European style shorts. The whole thing is filmed from Onda’s Point Of View. The man walks towards the camera and talks to the camera like he would talk to Onda.)
KEEV: Hi, I’m KEEV. My friends told me that you come here often. Your name is Onda, right?
(Pause.)
I know what you’re thinking. I’m not gay.
(Pause.)
I know, I look different than the men over here.
(Pause.)
I come from New York.
(Pause.)
(charmingly)
You can tell, can’t you? I bring the fresh air of freedom.
(Three young men come and take Onda to dance. Onda is dancing a sexy upbeat song, being the center of attention. KEEV attacks. He starts dancing in front of her, circling her, smiling and looking her in the eye like an innocent devil who is savoring the prey he is set to seduce. He seems putrid, brilliantly intelligent and somehow vulnerable.)
(Dark stage. Projection is over. Spot on
Onda on the stage, alone in the square.)
ONDA: When I first saw him he was like a bored lion. He was laying low but when he saw the other men trying their luck, he jumped to attack. His armor was shining with the power of 1000 watts: Slippers, vintage factory robe, shorts, and a loop of hair tied up with a red bow. Unusual accessories, turned into tools of charm. Who would have thought it? An eccentric seducer, a devilish hypocrite,
a Diogene wannabe...His conversation was unlike anything I’d heard; all paradoxes and tenderness. How could I remember I was married?
ACT II, SCENE 2
(Light again, movement on the street.)
PASSER BY #5: HELLO GORGEOUS!
PASSER BY #6: WHAT A PIECE OF ASS!
(Onda’s husband shows up. He is a man in his early 50s, outgoing and heavyset.)
DAN: Would you people please shut up! She’s my wife. Hi babe! What are you doing here? I thought you were shooting a commercial today?
ONDA (warmly: Hello, baby. How are you?
DAN: I’m going home to take a power nap to be fresh for tonight.
ONDA: Great. I’m waiting for a friend. See you tonight.
DAN: I see you’re causing quite a stir with the passer-bys… Did anybody try to touch you?
ONDA: No, but Romanian men on the street are sort of gross, aren’t they?
DAN: What did they do?
ONDA: They just stare at you shamelessly. They check you out like a piece of meat. Make all these cat calls. I got used to it. What can a woman do?
DAN: I don’t know? Marry one? Sometimes when I go to the nude beach and I look at all the naked men I wonder how the world’s population reproduce.
ONDA: You’re funny. Maybe beauty is the culprit. Maybe female beauty is harmful.
DAN: No, female beauty is not harmful. Female beauty is rather useless. (He looks her dead in the eye and speaks with double entendre) Yes, beauty matters at first. Men are suckers for beauty when they see it. You catch the man easily, you hook him...but the hard part is keeping him. I have to run now. See you later, love you! (He leaves).
ACT II, SCENE 3
ONDA: (To the audience, dead pan): Why keep him? If you keep anything for too long it gets old, it loses its taste and it begins to stink.
FILM/PROJECTION
(PROJECTION: CLOSE UP OF KEEV TALKING TO THE CAMERA, POV OF ONDA.)
KEEV: Are you a model? Too bad. You know, my ideal is the UGLY woman. Shy, sensitive, with a husky voice, not so pretty…but who cares? From this woman the truth sprouts out like a man’s most fabulous erection. Faced with truth, any man is penetrated to the core and seduced. (pause) Seduction: It’s not an unpleasant thing. Or is it?
(Fades to black. The stage is still).
ONDA: It was one of those nights when you have no clue that everything is about to change. The man upstairs knew I wanted to cheat on my husband. He knew I couldn’t stand the smell of old skin that no expensive cologne could hide. I was turned off with the flaccid lips that I had to kiss, acting enthusiastic. Turned off at the view of white hairs on his flabby chest. I was fed up with his boring dinners and his boring group of white haired pals. Fed up with his stale jokes and his delusion of self-importance. I was fed up with his money, his town house, his summerhouse, his cars… all for which one single minute of my life is a price to high to pay. That night I decided to start over, I wanted a clean slate, and I wanted to chose better this time around. I was ready to meet Prince Charming and wake up.
FILM/PROJECTON
(Again, the stage is dark and still. The Projection screen shows Prince Charming show up in the nightclub in the shape of a handsome young man, clean-cut, well-dressed and well bred. He takes Onda to dance and she seems to enjoy his company. KEEV is watching with a smile.)
ONDA: In the same night God put two 2 kittens on my lap. One pure and tough, the other more like a Salvador Dali type. Who was I supposed to chose? Adonis or the eccentric? It was a tense game.
FILM/PROJECTON
(Projection: The young man looks at ONDA visibly seduced, he slowly kisses her hand, There is a growing tension, music up, like a big seduction scene, it looks like he is going to win. The moment deflates comically when he says his name, he has no personality in his voice):
Elvis Fishstick: Thanks for dancing with
me. My name is Elvis Fishstick."
(Onda from the projection screen walks away. KEEV grabs Onda and kisses her passionately.)
ONDA: ELVIS FISHSTICK, that’s the ugliest name I’ve ever heard! How could anybody date someone with a name like that? His voice put me to sleep. Keev’s words woke me up; his kiss lit me all up. The next day he sent me a note