Cut to Boston. A montage of scenes is shown.
On the river, a pair of canoes frighten a flock of birds away. A group of shoppers cross a busy street. Two women exit a coffee shop, discussing the latest gossip.
Finally, a hand knocks on the door of an apartment. Dawson’s hand, specifically.
DAWSON: Pacey? You home?
Dawson waits there for a moment. Eventually, he hears locks being undone on the other side, as the door opens.
Standing on the other side is Pacey. He’s dressed in boxers and a white t-shirt…a huge contrast to Dawson’s attire, which includes a red shirt and blue jeans.
PACEY: Hey man! This is a surprise.
DAWSON: Sorry. I didn’t know you were still asleep.
Pacey shakes his head.
PACEY: I wasn’t. Don’t worry about it. Come on it.
Pacey leads the way into the apartment, where Dawson receives a shock.
The apartment is hardly as classy as Pacey’s last one. The walls are a yellowish colour, slightly peeling in some spots. There’s a single couch, with a small television. The ‘kitchen’ consists of a cooler and a small round table. There’s also a squeaking noise coming from somewhere.
DAWSON: You hear that?
Pacey shushes him, and carefully looks around. By the couch is a large brown rat. He lunges at it, but it’s too fast for him. It escapes into a hole in the wall.
PACEY: Damn!
Pacey dusts himself off, and climbs back to his feet.
PACEY: Oh well…Mickey got away. I’ll get him next time.
Dawson raises an eyebrow in confusion.
DAWSON: You named the rat ‘Mickey’?
PACEY: They’re all Mickey’s in spirit. So…what can I do for you?
Dawson doesn’t respond. He’s too shaken by his surroundings.
PACEY: Yoo-hoo, Dawson!
Pacey whistles, trying to get his attention.
DAWSON: Sorry. I just…I thought you were working.
Pacey sighs.
PACEY: I am. This unfortunate display is the end result of needing to pay back the credit card companies from when I lost that job working for Rich. Make no mistake, I will move outta this outhouse the second I have the cash to spare. It’ll just take a few more months.
Dawson gives him a worried look.
DAWSON: Months? If you need the money, I can…
Pacey throws up his arms in protest.
PACEY: Dawson…I appreciate the gesture, but I don’t want any handouts.
DAWSON: After all that money you raised for my movie…?
PACEY: Was money that I owed you. It wouldn’t feel right.
DAWSON: Then consider it a loan.
Pacey laughs.
PACEY: Don’t take this the wrong way, man, but I’d rather owe it to the government than you.
Dawson nods.
PACEY: Ok, spill already. What’s up?
DAWSON: Oh, um…
Dawson reaches into a tote bag that he’s carrying, and pulls out a folder.
DAWSON: I got a call from Paramount.
Pacey’s eyes go wide in surprise.
PACEY: Paramount? Wow…
DAWSON: Yeah. I was more or less speechless.
PACEY: Somebody’s gotta tell Harley that she’s got a chance to get paid actual money for this thing eventually.
Dawson chuckles.
PACEY: So, when do you leave?
Dawson bites his lip.
DAWSON: Yeah…that’s the thing. I’m not so sure I want to go.
Pacey stares disbelievingly.
PACEY: Am I hearing this right? Dawson Leery gets invited by a multi-million dollar studio, and he’s not sure he wants to go? You’re Dawson’s evil twin, aren’t you?
Dawson shakes his head.
DAWSON: The last couple of times I went to LA to ‘peddle my wares’, it ended up a complete disaster. Wicked Dead ended up on cable, Oliver’s movie was direct-to-video…
PACEY: Come on…it couldn’t be that bad!
DAWSON: Pacey, when I gave the pitch for this movie at the studio Todd was working for, they wanted me to turn Jen into a stripper!
Pacey starts to snicker.
PACEY: Oh, she’ll loooove that!
DAWSON: Breathe one word of this to her, and my next film will be a homage to Jaws, with you playing the part of Robert Shaw.
Pacey puts up his hands, backing away slightly.
PACEY: Woah, whoa…white flag here. This is Paramount, though…whole different monster.
DAWSON: I know that. I guess I’m just trying to find another road is all. So I can do things my way without any compromise. That’s why I came to you. In the old days, for something like this, I’d always go ask…
Dawson suddenly stops himself, realizing his mistake.
DAWSON: Sorry.
PACEY: Hey, don’t worry about it…there’s worse things in the world than being a substitute Joey. I’m not gonna do that weird hair thing, though…so you can just forget about it.
The two of them laugh.
DAWSON: I’ll take it under advisement.
PACEY: My advice: you fly down there and, before you make any promises, find out what exactly they want you to do. If it disagrees with your vision, you take it to someone else.
Dawson shrugs.
DAWSON: Sounds reasonable. Thanks.
PACEY: Hey, don’t mention it.
Dawson looks towards the door, then to Pacey’s very small mini-fridge.
DAWSON: Come on…I’ll buy you a pizza. My treat.
A smile forms on Pacey’s face.
PACEY: Lead the way.
*****
Dawson and Pacey exit the building. They continue walking along the side of the street.
PACEY: So I was thinking, let’s just say this does make it big. I’m not talking cable big, I’m talking multiplex theatre big. I’m gonna get some credit in it, right? Not a big thing or anything. Just an honourable mention.
Dawson laughs.
DAWSON: You’re gonna let fame go to your head, Pacey.
Neither one of them notices a yellow cab pull up to the curb across the street.
PACEY: If you got it, flaunt it! Why else do you think Nicholson walks around with that grin on his face all the time? He knows he’s got more power in his pinky than most senators.
DAWSON: Remind me never to bring you…over…there…
Dawson freezes, as he begins to stare across the street. Slowly, someone climbs out of the cab. Even with the sunglasses on, he’d recognize her anywhere.
It’s Joey.
At that moment, Pacey also notices her.
PACEY: (muttering) No way…
The two boys stare for a moment, before finally making a move.
DAWSON: JOEY!
PACEY: HEY POTTER!
They both try to call out to her, but it’s no use. She can’t hear them over the roar of the traffic.
Then suddenly, before they can get her attention, someone else climbs out of the cab. It’s a guy, tall, with slick black hair and a blazer jacket. He picks up Joey’s suitcase.
PACEY: Hey! Who’s…?
Then the guy kisses her.
Dawson and Pacey’s faces both fall.
PACEY: Oh…
Dawson quickly turns around and begins to walk down the street as fast and he can.
PACEY: Dawson?
He doesn’t stop, despite Pacey’s calling out to him. Pacey turns and watches Joey and the mystery man walk in the other direction. He hesitates…not knowing which one he should follow.
*****
Cut to Worthington University. The students have returned now, preparing for the new semester. Some are rushing from building to building, attempting to get their transcripts in order in time for classes. Others are relaxing under the trees; talking to friends they haven’t seen in a year.
Inside a familiar dorm room, Audrey Liddell is already hard at work. She has a pile of books lined up on her desk, while her nose is currently buried in a small book. Specifically ‘The Collected Works Of Neil Simon’.
After a moment, the door swings open. Audrey gasps in surprise as her roommate enters, suitcase in hand.
AUDREY: Can it be? Joey Potter?
Joey smiles.
JOEY: The one and only!
Audrey screams, and runs up to hug her.
AUDREY: I thought you’d never come back. This place has been a complete drag. Did you know that hardly anybody goes to class during the summer?
JOEY: (sarcastically) I hadn’t noticed.
AUDREY: Now, you have to tell me what it was like. I want every single raunchy detail. Was the food any good? How about the tours? How about the men…and bear in mind that I will beg for that bit of information.
Joey laughs.
JOEY: Absolute dreamboats.
Audrey squeals, jumping up and down.
AUDREY: Where’d you go again?
Joey raises an eyebrow in confusion.
JOEY: Paris. You know…in France!
AUDREY: Don’t you have to, like, speak French there?
JOEY: It’s not a prerequisite. Besides, I’m a fast learner. Plus, I had Derek there to help me.
Audrey’s eyes light up.
AUDREY: Who’s Derek?
Joey blushes slightly.
AUDREY: Oh my god…another guy? Girl, you go through them like they go out of fashion. Just tell me…is he French? Cuz, you know, the French are supposed to be the best kissers. There’s where they came up with the name.
JOEY: No. He’s from New Mexico, actually. We met at the airport. He told me he was transferring to Worthington this year, so…
AUDREY: Come on…give me some gossip!
Joey shakes her head in amazement. Just then, she notices the pile of books on Audrey’s desk.
JOEY: Wow! Are you telling me you’re actually prepared this semester?
Audrey crosses her arms and smiles proudly.
AUDREY: I have to tell you, Joey…summer school is a living hell. No exaggeration. I have no intention whatsoever of going through that next year, so I want to get a head start.
JOEY: A regular scholar, huh?
AUDREY: Oh yeah. It’s actually kind of interesting. These plays are filled with sex, blackmail, and murder…it’s like a soap opera without the cheesy background music.
Joey laughs again, putting down her suitcase.
AUDREY: So, come on. Spill. I want to hear all about Venice…
JOEY: Paris!
AUDREY: Whatever! Or are you saving the details for when you tell Dawson.
Joey freezes, biting her lip nervously.
JOEY: I kind of didn’t tell him.
Audrey looks surprised.
AUDREY: Come again? I spent a month working on that movie, and if it’s anything like what happened in real life, the guy knows you’ve always wanted to go there. Oh well…Pacey probably told him.
JOEY: Didn’t tell Pacey either.
AUDREY: Wha? Why not?
Joey sighs, pacing around the room.
JOEY: One of the reasons I left was because I hated being stuck in that same cycle. The same one I’ve been stuck in since I was a kid. It’s either Dawson…or Pacey…or worse, both of them! I know they can’t help how they feel, but I’m way too young to be going through this.
AUDREY: So, in other words, you went to Paris to run away?
Joey shook her head.
JOEY: Not to run away…to start fresh. To live my life without the ghosts of the past creeping up on me every day. And, to tell you the truth, I feel a lot better because of it.
Audrey ponders her words for a moment, but seems still unsure.
AUDREY: Are you at least telling them you’re back? You still want to be friends with then, right?
Joey doesn’t answer.
AUDREY: Right, Joey?
JOEY: That’s the problem. I don’t know if I can be. Listen, I’m late for an appointment. I’ll see you later? We can go for coffee, and I can fill in those ‘raunchy details’ for you. Okay?
Audrey smiles, and nods.
JOEY: Great! See ya!
She leaves the dorm room again, leaving Audrey behind.
*****
Elsewhere on Campus, in a very cluttered office, Professor Hetson curses as he searches for something.
HETSON: Damn it! Where is it?
At that moment, Joey enters. She knocks on the door softly, as her eyes go wide at the clutter.
JOEY: Ugh. What you looking for…lose your organizational skills?
Hetson sighs.
HETSON: I know that voice. What deity has it in for me?
He turns around, facing Joey.
HETSON: Joey Potter? To what do I owe the displeasure of your company?
Joey holds up a piece of paper, showing it to him.
JOEY: Apparently you’re listed as teaching advanced literature this semester.
HETSON: That I am…which you should not be in!
He grabs the paper from her, inspecting it with dumbfounded eyes.
JOEY: Eh…I did a lot of reading over the summer. Got ahead.
HETSON: This is not happening to me!
He groans, leaning his head against the wall.
JOEY: As much as it would please me to be here solely to torment you…I’m actually serious. I want to take that class.
HETSON: Oh really?
JOEY: I spent the summer in Paris. And while I was there…it was like it gave me a whole new worldview. There there’s so much more out in the world that I had no idea of, and it made me want to try harder. To use the best of my abilities. So, come on…I’m ready to take the toughest challenge you’ve got. Let me prove myself.
Hetson stares at her for a moment, as if trying to decide whether or not she is serious. Satisfied, he pulls a pamphlet out of one of the drawers, and hands it to her.
HETSON: There’s a writing competition a few days from now. Not much advance notice…but that shouldn’t be too difficult for someone with quick wit.
Joey ignores the mocking tone in his voice, and looks over it.
HETSON: Granted I wouldn’t call it a competition, since you won’t actually win anything. It’s an excuse for the egomaniacs to show off…you’ll fit right in.
JOEY: Sounds good. Thank you for your time.
Joey heads towards the door.
HETSON: Oh, please…interrupt me anytime Miss Potter!
Joey turns around again.
JOEY: How’s Harley by the way?
HETSON: Terrible. Still dating that loose cannon. You were a bad influence on her.
JOEY: Still want me to look after her?
Hetson sighs in relief.
HETSON: Please do!
Joey grins, and then leaves the office.
*****
Meanwhile, at Hell’s Kitchen…the bar where Joey and Eddie worked at last year.
Dawson and Pacey are seated at the bar, sitting in silence. Dawson is drinking a coke, while Pacey has a beer at his side.
PACEY: It’s just as well, you know? Can’t say I’m not surprised.
Dawson grunts, staring off into space.
PACEY: Plenty of fish in the sea, right?
DAWSON: She doesn’t know what she’s doing.
Pacey raises an eyebrow in confusion.
PACEY: Look, I know you’re pissed off. I am, too…but give the girl a little credit man!
DAWSON: No, really. I’ve put a lot of thought into it, and I have this theory.
PACEY: I’m listening.
Dawson turns to face him, attempting to explain.
DAWSON: Have you ever noticed how quickly Joey gets over a break-up? How she finds someone else almost immediately.
Pacey laughs.
PACEY: Are you kidding me? There are beach balls that rebound less than Joey Potter. What you getting at.
DAWSON: Last May, right before…well, before you showed up on my doorstep, she confided in me about realizing why. That she was going to make an effort to change it. But now…well, she’s back in her old routine again.
Pacey thinks for a moment.
PACEY: Well, what can we do about it?
DAWSON: I don’t know.
PACEY: Just let her figure it out for herself, ok? You got more important things to worry about. Like getting on that plane.
Dawson shakes his head.
DAWSON: I can’t.
PACEY: Why the hell not?
DAWSON: LA just doesn’t agree with me, Pacey. I’m going to have to find another way.
Pacey looks at him for a moment, not quite believing his excuse.