“Valentine, oh my
Valentine! Answer me my sweet Valentine!”
“CUT! You call
that acting Ricky? Why don't you try doing it with some real
passion. Why don't...why don't you actually try this time yeah?
We're gonna go again, for a millionth time. Do it RIGHT THIS TIME!”
“Mr. Fance, not
to be rude but this is just a highschool play, it's not anything
fancy,” said Anny.
“Oh right, so we
can just half-ass the whole thing, that makes sense. Do it again,
and do it right. None of you are going home until we get this right
people!”
It was cold out
now, night had fallen. Fance was leaving the building last. All the
students had gone home after her and flown into a rage about Ricky
not being passionate enough for the part. Clarence was in love with
Valentine...they were mad lovers, yet Ricky acted like Valentine was
just a friend, like one of his bros almost. Like Valentine didn't
matter that much. Like she was just a side chick or something. No.
No she wasn't that. She was SO much more. Fance knew it. He had
created her. He had created Clarence too. He had chosen Ricky to
play Clarence, much to his regret now.
But oh well right?
You live and learn. Fance, you live and learn. What? I know. It's
ok we'll get this. They have to get this.
You alright buddy?
Oh look a deer.
Why is there a deer in the middle of a city street.
I can't drive right
now I'm too tired. I'm going to crash and kill my self, or kill
someone else. Is anyone else even alive right now? You mean awake?
Yeah awake that's what I meant. It's late at night. The students
are home. I'm going home. Fance you're going home. GO HOME FANCE.
Valentine's waiting for you. She's not real? Is she? She isn't?
She is. She must be. I made her. Please. Tell me she's real? I
have NO ONE ELSE! You can't take her.
Where am I? Oh I'm
home.
Fance shot himself
in the head that night, a lipstick kiss of his cheek…
Who was Valentine
to take his life? She was created by him? Why would she do that?
HOW could she do that? She was directing the play now. She was in
charge. Her next victim would be Clarence. Oh she loves Clarence.
Right? I do love him she says. I love him? Do I? Do I really love
him? He lacks the passion I seek. But I love him. No. Yes. No.
I love him. Oh I love him so!
Ricky got to the
theater the next day early to try and practice his lines. Truth be
told he was a common friend with stage fright. Very familiar. Very
common. Very much full of stage fright. He didn't much like Fance
and wasn't even sure why the crazy man had chosen him for the part.
Maybe because he was a good looking jock. Something like that maybe.
Maybe. Yeah maybe.
Here he is. My
Ricky Clarence. For me Valentine. He is mine now. Here I am
Valentine. I am here for you my love. Yes and I am here for you too
my love! Take me in your arms now and kiss me.
“Valentine!”
“Clarence?”
“What? Who said
that?”
“'Tis me my love,
your Valentine!”
“But...you're not
real!”
Not real but real
enough for death to overtake both. Why Ricky hung himself from the
theater rafters no one knew. But Valentine knew. She drove all her
men mad...drove them all...to death.
