Desperate, but Not Hopeless

Shia watches the yellow cab drive away; he’s still clutching the large brown envelope against his chest.

He licks his lips in as he thinks what he’s going to do next, and turning his head first, his body following, Shia walks back inside the strip club.

The bouncer glares at him and with Shia being in a drunken fowl mood, flips him off as he walks inside. After all, he’s Shia LaBeouf and he’s only the heavy!

Shia’s feet pound down the hall to the room he was sharing with the pretty Emily. Well, she was pretty in the dim, murky lighting and in full makeup, but being on the game since she was the tender of thirteen, it tends to take the prettiness out of a little girl.

He roughly opens the door and slams it shut. In fright, Emily stands; still holding the two cheap crystal glasses. Shia throws the package onto the small dresser and narrowly misses the uncapped whiskey bottle.

SHIA: Sit!

Emily does as she’s told without a seconds thought, as Shia struts towards her and snatches the glasses from her delicate fingers, and tosses them to the top of the bed. Without a care if the liquid trickles out onto the pillows.

Shia tightly holds Emily’s face, squeezing it together, before kissing her hard. Naturally, she kisses him back, it’s part of the job description, “do as the punter requires.”

This flashes through Shia’s mind, it instantly reminding him about Millie and her hate of having to dance like a cheap slut the first night he saw her at this very club. Reminding him that this purchase of a woman isn’t what he wants, nor needs. Shia pulls away and with a disgusting feeling of disgrace, he backhands Emily across her face, sending her backwards across the bed. She naturally screams with the shock, but only once.

Shia mounts the bed and continues to hit into Emily, who can only whimper, unable to fight the stronger man off.

Unknown to her, Shia has seen red and she has no idea how to stop him, all Emily can do is relax her muscles to stop it hurting as much and take Shia’s beating, again, it’s all part of the job.

Within mere minutes, Shia is ripped from the bed by his hair and not so gracefully thrown to the floor.

CHARLOTTE: Helping Emily to get off the bed. Go clean yourself up, Em. Take your break now and get back out there when you look a bit better, okay?

Emily nods and rushes out of the room as fast as her little legs and over sized heels can take her.

Charlotte looks down at Shia, who’s over reacted and is still in recovery over the back of his head smacking on the hard floor.

CHARLOTTE: Hopefully that’s knocked some sense into you.

SHIA: Sitting up and rubbing the back of his head, checking his hand for blood. Fuck off!

CHARLOTTE: I would, but you’re on my premises and you’ve hurt not one, but two of my girls. So way I see it is; you owe me.

SHIA: I paid good money.

CHARLOTTE: Couldn’t care less.

SHIA: Wait…two?

CHARLOTTE: You deaf, or just can’t count?

SHIA: It was only Emily-

CHARLOTTE: Forgotten Millie already?

SHIA: She’s not one of your cheap sluts-

CHARLOTTE: That she may not be, but she still works under my roof, she’s still on my pay roll and she’s still one of my girls. Yes, you’ve paid well over the odds for Emily, but Millie isn’t on the rates and you can’t pay for that girl. Not only have you upset her, but also seeing as I consider that girl as a friend, you’ve pissed me off too.

SHIA: I…uhm…I – I di-didn’t-

CHARLOTTE: Always stutter? That can’t be good in your business, can it, LeBeouf?

Shia doesn’t look up and keeps his mouth stubbornly shut. Charlotte starts to lose her temper as she taps one of her perfect black boots on the floor, her arms folded across her chest in annoyance of being ignored. After a few seconds, Charlotte calmly walks in Shia’s direction, her heels echo in the room, the only other sounds come from the soft pounding of the music coming from down the hall and Shia’s whinging from his head injury. Charlotte places her pointy boot on Shia’s chest and pushes a little so he looks up at her.

CHARLOTTE: With disgust. What she sees in you, I have no idea, but damnit LeBeouf, you will fix this.

Charlotte pushes harder on his chest making Shia fall back again, only to be saved by his elbows. He watches her walk from the room.

CHARLOTTE: Calling back to him. And get those glasses off my sheets!

Shia slowly gets off the floor to do as he’s been told. One of his hands supporting his body in standing the other nursing his head. The shameful hangover already starting to kick in, from the harsh reality of what he did to poor Emily and the fact he’s lost Millie for good.

He picks up the glasses up as Charlotte walks back in the room and closes the door behind her.

CHARLOTTE: Sit down.

Without argument, Shia sits on the bed and Charlotte takes the two glasses in one hand giving Shia a new glass, half filled with a white liquid, she also hands him a brown paper bag.

CHARLOTTE: Drink that. It’ll make you feel better and I would say you can use the private rest room, but one of my girls got smacked and apparently it takes four girls to clean her up, so use the bag.

Shia downs the liquid, goes drip white and shudders, the drink burning as it goes down. Charlotte takes the third glass and laughs.

CHARLOTTE: My own concoction. It’s nasty stuff, but never failed me yet.

Shia’s eyes fill with water as his breathing becomes shallow.

CHARLOTTE: Walking towards the dresser. You get it all up.

Shia reaches into the bag, bringing up the only thing to have passed his lips that day – cheap whisky, that morning’s coffee had long gone into his system.

He couldn’t eat. Since the private detective told him a long twenty-four hours ago the exact address of Millie, Shia couldn’t do anything. It feels like a lifetime ago that he was lying in bed, listening to a sleeping Felicity, staring at the gap in the curtain, rehearsing over and over again in his mind just what he was going to say to Millie when he knocked on her door.

Of course it didn’t all go to plan. The detective had already warned Shia that it was the slums, so he didn’t expect a posh house, with seven bedrooms, all ensuit and an Olympic sized swimming pool! But the smell of the place alone wanted to make him gag the second he got out of the chauffer driven car. Garbage bags out on the side of the road – left to rot, kids covered in God knows what, women whoring themselves out in broad day light, in plain sight of their own offspring, threw Shia, He hadn’t exactly has the best start in life, but it was The Hills compared to this.

He also hadn’t expected Millie to look as run down as she did, let alone slamming the door in his face. She didn’t have that sparkle in her eye, that cheeky look her face held when she saw him bringing her breakfast in Blooming Flowers. He’d planned to woo her. To take her in his arms, to tell her he felt lost without her by his side. To tell her he missed her stubborn ways and her mischievous practical jokes. To say he couldn’t sleep at night because her voice and her laugher played in his mind and if he did sleep, he’d be missing it. Shia wanted to tell Millie he loved her, and all he did was think the worst and left her.

Once Shia has finally finished, he lowers the bag to his lap and breathes more deeply. Charlotte has already put the glasses on the dresser and now take the bag from him, folding the top over she goes to the door and opens in, just in time to see a girl walk past.

CHARLOTTE: Oh, Cindy, perfect. Take care of this for me.

Charlotte hands her the bag.

CINDY: What is it?

CHARLOTTE: Take a look.

Charlotte shuts the door before Cindy screams. Charlotte laughs as she hears Cindy’s gagging and her heels tapping quickly down the hall.

SHIA: That was mean.

CHARLOTTE: She’s a pain in my ass! Hardly turns up, when she does she’s always late or high on something, and she’s always trying to earn on the side.

SHIA: Can you blame her? You’re probably taking more than half of what she earns-

CHARLOTTE: Yeah I do! I take the lot! But at the end of the week the girls get a regular pay packet, any tips they earn and they get twenty-five percent of their total weekly earnings put, by me, into a retirement fund. I take care of my girls and they couldn’t have it better. So I’d ask you not to make assumptions.

SHIA: I didn-

CHARLOTTE: Save it for someone who gives a shit!

SHIA: I’m sorry.

CHARLOTTE: Emily will get over it, it’s not the first time some punk has done that, and I doubt you’ll be the last She’ll survive.

SHIA: So, you’re their pimp?

CHARLOTTE: I consider myself as their manager.

SHIA: I thought that man owned the place?

CHARLOTTE: Ha! Derek? He’s the balls, I’m the brains! He may own the building, but without the girls he’s got shit and the girls, technically are mine, they all know they’d be stupid to leave me and my pay system.

SHIA: So, was Millie one of your girls?

CHARLOTTE: Not really. She needed out of her Mom’s, working here is fast, easy money. Women are sitting on a gold mines, so are a lot of pretty looking men. Millie auditioned, but we never even saw her bra! But she had a pretty face; fun personality and she didn’t take punters crap! So I hired her, I needed more bar staff, as we were getting busier.

SHIA: Realising who this woman is, remembering Millie talking about her. You’re Charlotte?!

CHARLOTTE: The very same.

SHIA: You and Millie went to school together?

CHARLOTTE: Is that what she told you? Well, I suppose that would stop a million awkward questions.

SHIA: You were going to get a place with her though, right?

CHARLOTTE: Kind of, she was going to live with me, but she met Shannon, and I wouldn’t trust Shannon as far as I could throw her! Why do you think I sent her off to work at Go-Go’s?! It’s a grimy club, but Shannon thrives in that place!

SHIA: Millie hates me.

CHARLOTTE: She properly does.

Shia looks up in disbelief. Wrongly hoping Charlotte would give him at least an ounce of sympathy.

CHARLOTTE: What?! I won’t lie to you. You thought she hit up, of cause she hates you.

SHIA: It just brought back old memories.

CHARLOTTE: I don’t care about you or your habits.

SHIA: Not me! My dad was an addict.

CHARLOTTE: Then you should have understood-

SHIA: I didn’t think…I just bolted-

CHARLOTTE: You should have known Millie better than that, and that’s why she probably hates you.

SHIA: I’ve lost her, haven’t I? Should I go see her?

CHARLOTTE: I wouldn’t. Not if you want to keep that pretty little face of yours?

SHIA: What should I do?

CHARLOTTE: Simple…get over it-

SHIA: I can’t!

CHARLOTTE: Too late now. She won’t want anything to do with you now. You’ve blown it.

SHIA: Talk to her for me?

CHARLOTTE: Oh no. I’m not having anything to do with this-

SHIA: Please? She’ll listen to you.

CHARLOTTE: No. I’m not doing your dirty work.

SHIA: But-

CHARLOTTE: I said no!

Shia looks down at his lap, looking like a child who’s been punished.

CHARLOTTE: Look, I’m not being funny, but you’re Shia La-fucking-Beouf! Use your fame! If she did like you, knowing Millie, like I do, I know she’d follow you on the media. She wouldn’t talk to you face to face, but she wouldn’t be able to stop herself if you were on the TV. So use it, make her listen in the only way you can contact her…where she can’t slam the door in your face or hang up the call!

SHIA: How?

CHARLOTTE: Throwing the brown package at him. You figure it out Einstein! Now fuck off so I can get some money out of this room!

Charlotte picks up the three glasses in one hand, and near empty bottle of Jack Daniels in the other.

CHARLOTTE: Walking out the room. Two minutes. And if you’re not out, you’ll be joining in and I’ll get you on my workers books! Got it?!

Charlotte leaves the room without waiting for an answer and holding the package close to his chest Shia nods and takes his note to leave.

SHIA: To himself, looking at the package. You’re gonna have to work now!

Millie is sitting in her bedroom, looking at herself in the mirror she’s got on the windowsill.

She’s wearing a white shirt and black, pin-stripe pin trousers, and she’s in the middle of taking her makeup off.

There is a knock at her bedroom door.

MILLIE: Yeah?

AMBER: Opening the door. Can I come in?

MILLIE: Sure.

AMBER: I bought you something.

Amber hold up a small TV/DVD player.

AMBER: I’m sorry I’ve been such a bitch. You know what I can get like.

MILLIE: Yeah, I know.

AMBER: You forgive me?

MILLIE: I always do.

Amber puts the TV down and sits next to Millie on the bed.

AMBER: Can your old Mom have a hug?

MILLIE: Sure.

They embrace, half-heartedly on Millie’s part.

AMBER: I am sorry.

MILLIE: Letting go of the hug. Yeah, I know, you’ve already said.

AMBER: It’s not my fault.

MILLIE: I’m not getting into this now.

AMBER: I’m sorry honey. Do you wanna watch TV?

MILLIE: Yeah, okay.

AMBER: Plugging the TV in to the power supply. How come you’re looking so smart?

MILLIE: Been looking for a job.

AMBER: Really? How did it go?

MILLIE: Not too good, actually.

AMBER: Oh, how come?

MILLIE: No one’s really looking.

AMBER: Fucking recession.

MILLIE: Is that what’s stopping you getting a job?

AMBER: I thought we weren’t getting into this?

MILLIE: Changing the subject before it turns sour. How come you’re so happy?

AMBER: Aren’t I allowed to be?

MILLIE: Coming down?

AMBER: Millie, don’t.

MILLIE: Alright.

Amber turns on the TV and starts to tune the channels in.

MILLIE: What’s all this in aid of?

AMBER: No reason.

There is a heavy silence hanging in the room as each woman watches the other out of the corner of their eye, both waiting for the other to say something that’s slightly offensive or off tone.

AMBER: Some girl was asking about you today.

MILLIE: Really?

AMBER: Yeah. Wanted to talk to you, but you wasn’t here. Charlotte her name was.

MILLIE: Did she say what she wanted?

AMBER: Not really. Just said to tell you she’s thinking of you. I told her to fuck off!

MILLIE: Mom!

AMBER: What?! She’s thinking about you cause you’ve been forced back to live in this hellhole! Fuck her thoughts! Hasn’t done anything to actually help you!

MILLIE: Charlotte was good to me when I first left.

AMBER: She said something about someone you liked. Shia, I think she said. Millie if you’re a lesbian make sure June down the block doesn’t find out, you know what people around here are like, and she would tell the Pope gossip if she could!

MILLIE: Shia’s a man, mom.

AMBER: Dating him?

MILLIE: Ha! Fat chance! We were never like that, and just when I thought it could have been, he tries to get it on with a whore-

AMBER: As long as he pays well-

MILLIE: That wasn’t the point-

AMBER: What kinda stupid name is Shia anyway?

MILLIE: I don’t know.

AMBER: Sounds like a loser, if you ask me-

MILLIE: Well I wasn’t asking you!

AMBER: Don’t snap at me because your man would rather pay than fuck you!

MILLIE: He wasn’t my man-

AMBER: With that kinda attitude you’d never get a man anyway-

MILLIE: What the hell has it got to do with you?!

AMBER: While you’re living under my roof-

MILLIE: But it’s not your roof! It’s paid for by every single hard working taxpayer in the country!

AMBER: Here I am! Busting a gut to keep you living here, without a single dime from you, and this is the kinda thanks I get! I’m back on the street because of you!

MILLIE: I’ve had nothing from you!

AMBER: What the fuck are you eating then, fresh air?!

MILLIE: As a matter of fucking fact! Yes! I am! You haven’t bought any food in the ten months I’ve lived here! I’ve used all my savings – I even had to ask June for a loan!

AMBER: You had savings?

MILLIE: They’ve gone!

AMBER: You asked June for a what?!

MILLIE: Just for a few weeks, until I get a paycheck!

AMBER: Great! You know I’ll never hear the end of this! Why can’t you just keep yourself out of my life!

MILLIE: I never asked to be born!

AMBER: I never asked to be raped!

MILLIE: You weren’t raped! You wanted to pay for a hit! Your dealer fucked you so you could get free drugs! That’s not rape you cheap slut!

Millie feels the tight sting around her face from her mothers’ backhander, but Millie doesn’t move an inch.

AMBER: I want you gone.

MILLIE: Tough fucking shit! You had me; it’s your fault I’m here. If you had, for one second, listened to me when I was a teenager, you would have realised I didn’t want to be your daughter. You would have understood I was happy with the dozens of foster parents I had over the years, all of them were better mothers than you could ever wish to be-

AMBER: I needed my son-

MILLIE: Robert died because you neglected him! You left a child, calling out for his mommy to die, because you were too busy getting high on whatever your fucked up boyfriend could give you! You killed your son, and you will suffer for it! Neither of us asked for you to be our mother, and damnit, I survived so I could put you through the same hell you put that little boy through! So I’m staying until I decide otherwise! Now, you fuck off!

Amber stands, in complete shock and disbelief of what truth has just come from her daughters’ mouth.

MILLIE: Screaming. I mean now!

Amber leaves the room as fast as her skeletal body can take her. She knows, deep down, that Millie couldn’t be more right, but the years of drug abuse have convinced Amber that she was the best mother in the world to her prefect little son Robert, and that she cried the great river when he died in her arms. Truth was, Robert died wearing only a nappy, with a thin, and worn out baby blanket, that barley covered his painfully thin body that hadn’t had an ounce of warm food in days. Alone in this crib, not calling for a woman who would never come, Robert passed away, clutching a cold, empty babies bottle, sucking his thumb for the only comfort he knew.

Shia, all suited and booted knocks on a dark wooden door.

CHARLOTTE: It better be important!

Shia smiles and opens the door.

CHARLOTTE: Oh well hello there Mr. LaBeouf!

SHIA: Hello Miss.-

CHARLOTTE: That’ll do!

Shia laughs as he closes the door and sits in the large leather chair in front of Charlotte’s grand desk. Charlotte goes back to her figures in the books.

CHARLOTTE: How did it go?

SHIA: Really well. I think.

CHARLOTTE: You think?

SHIA: Well, they’re definitely up for it, they loved the idea, and are happy for me to direct it-

CHARLOTTE: You defiantly don’t want to be in it then?

SHIA: Laughing. I don’t think I could play myself!

CHARLOTTE: It’s not really yourself though, is it?

SHIA: Oh come on Char. You read her originals, who else could that character be?

CHARLOTTE: You know what I mean…you have changed it, haven’t you?

SHIA: That’s where the producers had the problem. It’s not one hundred percent my work. I need her permission, and I wouldn’t feel right changing it so much that it’s not hers anymore. I’m doing this for her at the end of the day.

CHARLOTTE: I knew you didn’t come here just to tell me how the meeting went.

SHIA: Laughing. You know me too well.

Charlotte laughs along with him, and finally places her pen down then closes her big, navy blue, hardback book. With her chin resting on the laced fingers she looks across at him.

CHARLOTTE: Come on then, what is it this time?

SHIA: I have this.

He opens a file that is cramped of notes, both hand written and typed, as well as a decent, thick script. He pulls out a single piece of paper, that’s been typed on but requires a signature at the bottom.

SHIA: Putting the paper on the desk to face Charlotte. I need her to sign this consent form.

CHARLOTTE: And you want me to get it?!

SHIA: Well I can’t exactly go and just ask for it, can I? She would fly well and truly off the handle!

CHARLOTTE: Oh and I’m just meant to go, “Shia’s stolen all your ideas, can you sign this”-

SHIA: I’m not stealing her ideas. In that contract it says she’ll get a writers fee, she’s not signing the right across. That’s actually better than what a lot of writers get.

CHARLOTTE: And how do you suppose I get her signature, without her realising what she’s signing?

SHIA: She’s your friend, and her employer-

CHARLOTTE: I was her employer-

SHIA: Look, the last time you met her for the coffee-

CHARLOTTE: And just so happened to give her that magazine you where in spilling your guts and pathetic heartache to the World!

SHIA: Hey! That was your idea-

CHARLOTTE: She felt sorry for you though-

SHIA: Enough to get a text saying “move on with your life Shia. I’m sorry!”

CHARLOTTE: Better than nothing!

SHIA: Holding his hands up. We’ve been over this, it doesn’t matter. What does matter, is getting her signature on that paper.

CHARLOTTE: Well I’m not forging it. I don’t want any of this to come back on me, and I’m sure you wouldn’t either. Getting help to rekindle your love life from the manageress of the local strip club!

SHIA: Laughing with her. I’d rather that stayed just between friends.

CHARLOTTE: I thought so. Right, no forging her name, how else do you suppose we get her name on there?

SHIA: Well, I was thinking while I was driving down here, the last time you saw her; she still didn’t have a job, right?

CHARLOTTE: Yeah, she needed a loan. I’ve said I’d help her out, but she’s too proud.

SHIA: Well, how about you help her out, but without her actually knowing about it.

CHARLOTTE: I’m listening.

SHIA: You go see her, and ask her to sign this form, and a couple others, it doesn’t matter what, it’s just so she doesn’t really read them. Give her some story about, you’ve signed her off sick, but it’ll save you money in taxes. Say it’s better for you and the business to have her off sick, than not to have you on the books at all.

CHARLOTTE: I don’t think she’ll buy it-

SHIA: Honey, I’ve seen you when it comes to your business and money, you could sell that lie to the pope and he’d still believe you.

CHARLOTTE: But this isn’t the pope-

SHIA: You’re very convincing.

CHARLOTTE: I think that’s a complement.

SHIA: Will you do it?

CHARLOTTE: You owe me big time, I hope you know that!

SHIA: I do Char!

Shia stands up and rushes from the room.

SHIA: I’ve got producers to call and a final script to get edited. Thanks Char! It means so much.

CHARLOTTE: I know. I’ll call you when I have her autograph!

Shia darts from the room, practically skipping with delight.

Millie is sitting in the living room, eating pasta with tomato ketchup for the sauce. In between bites she’s scribbling away in a thick note pad.

Amber is plastering her worn face in makeup, that’s far too ‘tanned’ for her skin colour. She’s wearing a top that’s too low for her none existent chest and a skirt that’s showing far too much of her bony, chicken legs.

AMBER: If you’re not careful, your face will stay that way.

MILLIE: Like mother, like daughter.

AMBER: You are getting on my last nerve!

MILLIE: Feelings mutual.

Millie stands, takes her dinner and leaves the room.

AMBER: Shouting to Millie as she’s going up stairs to her bedroom. You know where the damn door is!

Millie ignores her as she jumps on her bed, legs stretched out, and her back on the headrest.

She uses the remote and flicks though the television channels.

Nothing. As usual. Daytime TV is better than primetime!

Oh, good God Millie! You need a job; you’re living like an unemployed slob!

As Millie is absentmindedly flicking the channels and eating the last few mouthfuls of pasta, the front door slams.

Oh thank God! I love Fridays! Won’t have to see her until at least Sunday now!

Millie is still flicking channels, she’s gone though them twice but continues anyway.

TV: And Shia La-

Oh what?

Millie quickly flicks back to see.

The show in question is The Late Show with David Letterman, he’s currently sitting behind his desk talking directly to camera.

DAVID: …here to tell us about his new movie, but he’s not staring in it. Oh no, he’s written and directed this one. He’ll be on after my next guest-

Oh blar! I don’t care about your next guest! I wanna know what that little idiot has been doing. Months, ten in fact, since I saw him and Emily. Not even a poke on facebook!

I can’t help myself. If I see him in the paper, I buy it. Same with celebrity magazines, and I always watch him when he’s on TV. I don’t know why, but I just can’t seem to want to leave him in my past.

Just then someone knocks on the front door. Millie rolls her eyes in annoyance.

If I miss Shia because of you Amber, I will not be impressed!

Millie quickly jumps off her bed and runs to the front door.

Opening it, she sees a man standing with the biggest, most beautiful bouquet of flowers she’d ever seen, and considering she worked in Blooming Flowers for three years, she knows how expensive they would have been.

MAN: Millie Dale?

MILLIE: Uhm…yeah.

MAN: For you Miss. Either someone loves you very much, or they are very, very sorry. Here you go Ma’am.

MILLIE: Taking the flowers. Oh, thank you.

MAN: Tipping his head. Have a good evening.

MILLIE: Closing the door. Goodnight.

In shock, Millie makes her way up the stairs to her room. She lays the flowers upon her bed and looks for a card. Instead she sees an envelope, opening it she finds a hand written letter.

Millie,
First of all, let me say how sorry I am for not getting in touch sooner. I’ve been busy and I know that’s not an excuse but I’ve needed time to get everything perfect. I just hope you’re playing ball like I’m planning you to be.

I hope you like the flowers, don’t worry, I didn’t get them from the bitch who fired you – don’t smile.

Millie’s small smile becomes a beam lighting her face.

The flowers are made up of every single bouquet you made up for me, and every time you did I always wished I were getting them for you.

But, I’ll let you get back to what you were doing before I rudely interrupted.

Don’t judge me.
x

Millie frowns and looks at the flowers.

DAVID: And now, the man of the moment, please welcome, Shia LaBeouf!

Millie sits on the edge of her bed as the studio audience go wild. Shia comes onto the stage, with a little wave and his trademark smile. He shakes David’s hand and sits down.

DAVID: So, Shia. Not seen you for a while, how you been?

SHIA: Really good, thank you.

DAVID: How’s the hand?

SHIA: Better, good, good, yeah. No more support, which is a good thing. Sometimes it aches, but that’s when I’ve not been doing my hand exercises-

DAVID: You have hand exercises?

SHIA: Yeah, I’ve got this little ball that I have to… blushing, squeeze-

The audience, along with David laugh.

SHIA: You know what I mean.

DAVID: Yeah, Shia’s a happy boy!

They all laugh.

SHIA: I am indeed.

DAVID: You driving again?

SHIA: Yep, ban was lifted a few months ago. It’s all good now. Back to normal.

DAVID: You know, a lot of people blame you for that?

SHIA: Yeah, yeah I know. But you know, I was stupid, but the dude ran a red light. So he was still in the wrong…and karma bit my ass, I came off worse!

The girls in the audience giggle.

DAVID: I think a lot of girls would like to bite your ass too.

SHIA: Laughing with the audience. Na, I know where that’s been!

DAVID: Laughing. Moving on…

He pauses to allow the audience time to laugh before he moves on with the interview.

DAVID: So what’s this? You’re a writer and a director now?

SHIA: Laughing. Well I’ve directed a few things before, nothing major, but I really enjoy, so as soon as I got this opportunity I grabbed it with both hands-

DAVID: Well, one good hand and one not so good-

SHIA: Laughing. Yeah, back then it was.

DAVID: Is this your first writing piece then?

SHIA: Kinda, yeah. Uhm, a fantastic friend of mine wrote the basics. She’s not really a scriptwriter, more of a novelist.

DAVID: And you helped her edit it into a script? One good enough for Hollywood?

SHIA: Yeah, pretty much.

DAVID: A lot of people might not have heard about it. You’re keeping it pretty low key.

SHIA: Yeah, not gonna shout this one off the roof tops. It really doesn’t need that much attention, it’s got a brilliant cast, wonderful story, it doesn’t really need it.

DAVID: So what’s it about?

SHIA: It’s basically about a girl who hasn’t had the best childhood; it’s just a story of her over coming that. Bettering herself I guess. Her fighting the odds and becoming a stronger person.

DAVID: It’s a chick flick?

Everyone laughs.

SHIA: Na, I managed to get some hard hitting action in there. I mean, she comes from the ghetto.

DAVID: Cool. Well let’s take a look.

As the clip plays Millie looks down at the letter and her flowers. Her concentration only going back to the television when she hears, whom she assumes is the main character says something very familiar.

“Care really isn’t that bad, I was well fed and I didn’t get raped.”

The studio audience applaud as the interview continues.

SHIA: I’m really proud of that scene.

DAVID: It’s moving.

SHIA: Laughing.You’re such a girl-

The audience laugh along.

DAVID: That’s what my wife said-

SHIA: Sure she did…

Everyone laughs.

DAVID: So, Shia, we’ve heard that you broke up with Felicity.

SHIA: Yeah, I saw that interview.

DAVID: Really?

SHIA: Laughing. Hell yeah. I wanted to know what she was gonna say about me.

They laugh again.

DAVID: You’re getting the reputation of being a player.

SHIA: That’s according to Flick. You’ve only heard her side.

DAVID: Care to enlighten?

SHIA: Flick got it into her head that I cheated. I’m not that kinda guy, my Mom would kick my ass if I cheated-

The audience laugh.

SHIA: She would, you don’t know my Mom! But, I met this wonderful woman who just made me excited again. Looking back, I never had that with Flick, it was just a sensible relationship, no risks, no…

DAVID: Adventure?

SHIA: Exactly! I just wanted to know if I could have something with this woman.

DAVID: And do you?

SHIA: Laughing. I’ll be honest with you, man to man…I have no idea!

DAVID: Fallen out?

SHIA: I’d say, more of a misunderstanding.

DAVID: Argh, that! I hate those!

They laugh.

SHIA: But if I’ve got my timing right, she should have just got something that brought us together delivered to her house.

DAVID: Oh, cryptic.

SHIA: I wouldn’t have it any other way-

DAVID: Millions of women who’ve just got something delivered are going to be so deflated when they realise it’s not from you.

SHIA: Sorry ladies.

DAVID: When’s the movie out?

SHIA: The 8th of this month.

DAVID: Brilliant! Ladies and gentlemen, Shia LaBeouf!

Millie is staring at the television, tears rolling, dumbfounded.

SHIA: You weren’t supposed to cry.

MILLIE: How did-

SHIA: Char “borrowed” the key, copied it and brought it back.

MILLIE: The movie?

SHIA: I told you; you’d be famous writer some day.

MILLIE: But how…rights…?

SHIA: Char-

MILLIE: The job form.

Shia smiles.

SHIA: So, how about it?

MILLIE: You’re judging me.

SHIA: I know.

Millie stands and walks to meet him in the doorway of her room.

MILLIE: I would like a hug.

Instantly Shia takes Millie in his arms and breathes her deeply in.

SHIA: I’ve missed you so much.

MILLIE: Me too.

SHIA: I’m sorry I didn’t get in touch sooner.

MILLIE: I understand.

SHIA: So…

MILLIE: I’m taking the TV. I’m guessing that was from you too?

SHIA: Shyly smiling. I didn’t want you to miss me when I was on there.

MILLIE: And I’m guessing that’s why you’ve been getting photographed a lot more?

SHIA: Laughing. I wait for them before I leave the house!

She giggles, Shia bends for a kiss, but Millie moves her head.

MILLIE: I don’t want our second kiss to be in this dump.

SHIA: Second?

MILLIE: Yes Shia. I was falling asleep; I wasn’t dead!

They laugh as Millie grabs a large bag and starts to empty the belongings into it, and with Shia’s help, they’re soon ready to leave.

The new couple walk, every closely to each other, as Shia is carrying a television and Millie’s bag and she has her beautiful flowers in her hands.

They cross the street as Shia hands over Millie’s car keys.

SHIA: I saved it for you.

She beams as he puts the television and bag in the back, and she puts the flowers where Shia’s feet will go.

SHIA: Getting in the car. Wanna go for dinner?

MILLIE: Driving away.I’m happy with take away food and a movie.

SHIA: Leaning over and gently kissing her cheek.I knew there was a reason why I’m so smitten with you.

MILLIE: Love you too, Shia.