Cut to outside the theatre.
Pacey and Andie just exit, followed by a group of other audience members. Pacey searches the crowd, still coming up empty.
ANDIE: When that chandelier fell, I almost screamed. So…what was your favourite part?
Pacey shrugs.
ANDIE: What’s the deal, Pacey? I thought you liked it?
PACEY: I did, Andie. I did…it’s just…
ANDIE: What?
Pacey sighs.
PACEY: Midway through, I thought I saw Rich.
Andie raises an eyebrow.
ANDIE: Rich?
PACEY: My old boss from the office.
Andie nods.
ANDIE: You mean the guy Audrey calls ‘the Smarmy Scumbag’?
PACEY: That’s the guy. I swore he was in that theatre with us, but when I went back to look for him he was gone.
ANDIE: Maybe you were seeing things?
PACEY: Yeah. Like you say Abby?
Andie shakes her head.
ANDIE: Ok…for one, you’re not going crazy, Pacey. For another, Abby was dead. From what I hear, Rich was perfectly fine last you saw him.
PACEY: Better than fine. He was living like a king. How does a guy like that get so lucky?
Andie looks him in the eyes.
ANDIE: By selling his soul?
Pacey smiles at her.
PACEY: You know, there was this time we went to New Orleans. He set me up with a prostitute.
Andie’s eyes go wide.
ANDIE: What did you do? Or don’t I want to know?
He laughs.
PACEY: I left her there and almost pounded Rich. God, I was so mad. It was like he was trying to turn me into someone like him. What scares me the most is that he almost succeeded.
Andie hugs him.
PACEY: I think that’s my biggest fear, you know? To become someone like that, who doesn’t care about the people around them.
ANDIE: That could never happen to you, Pacey. You’re one of the most caring people I know.
He grins.
PACEY: I love you, McPhee.
ANDIE: Right back at you, handsome.
They kiss.
Preoccupied, neither one notices a nearby car window slowly side down. Inside, a pair of menacing eyes watch the couple.
RICH: Enjoy it while it lasts, Pacey. Won’t be for long…I promise.
The car drives away, leaving a chill in the air.
*****
Cut to the dorm.
Audrey and Chris enter the room, making out. However, they stop when they see Joey sitting on the bed.
AUDREY: Oh, hey Bunny.
She turns to Chris.
AUDREY: You’d better go. I have a feeling Joey doesn’t want to watch what we had planned.
Chris laughs.
CHRIS: Yeah, she’s probably pass out from shock.
Silence.
CHRIS: Ok…no snarky comeback. This could be bad.
Audrey kisses him.
AUDREY: I’ll handle it. See you at the next show.
Chris leaves. Audrey walks over and sits next to Joey.
AUDREY: Why the long face, Joey Potter? Sad you missed my breakout performance?
Joey sighs.
JOEY: I had a fight with Dawson.
AUDREY: About?
Joey hands her the paper.
JOEY: He read it.
Audrey looks it over.
AUDREY: Your short story? What’d he think?
JOEY: He loved it.
Audrey rolls her eyes.
AUDREY: Oh, that is like a boyfriend faux pas.
Joey gives her a look.
JOEY: He wants to make a movie about it.
Audrey’s jaw drops.
AUDREY: Really? He said those exact words?
JOEY: Not really, but that’s the impression I got. He went into total director mode on me.
AUDREY: Is that a bad thing?
Joey pauses.
JOEY: Do you remember why I broke up with Dawson in the first place?
AUDREY: Because he cheated on his girlfriend with you?
JOEY: No! Before that?
AUDREY: He sent your old man to the big house?
Joey sighs.
JOEY: Before that, Audrey.
AUDREY: Oh, yeah…you needed to ‘find yourself’. Gotta say, Joey, that the other two reasons were better.
JOEY: Audrey…part of the reason I needed to ‘find myself’ was because of Dawson. Or rather me and Dawson. Most of our lives we have been inexplicably linked. We liked the same movies, read the same books, and did the same things. We did everything together. Half the time people mentioned my name, it usually had ‘Dawson and’ preceding it.
AUDREY: Ok, I know this. Lifelong friends…old news to me, roomie.
JOEY: It became increasingly difficult to find where he ended and I began. How would I ever know what exactly the things I was interested in were and what I was only interested in because he was? I can’t let anyone have that kind of power over my life, Audrey. Not even…not even the guy I’m in love with.
There’s another pause. Eventually, Audrey speaks up.
AUDREY: Let me ask you a question, Joey. Where was Dawson when you first decided to be a writer? The other side of the country, that’s where. No possible way of ‘influencing’ you. As I recall, you were scared you would never see him again. Am I right or am I right?
JOEY: I get what you’re saying. You think I became a writer to compensate for Dawson not being there?
AUDREY: No, dummy! I think that, when people are really close, they take similar paths. They pick things up from one another. Who knows…all this time it could have been you influencing him.
Joey smiles for a moment.
JOEY: You know, the last year we lived in Capeside, Dawson took up photography. Two years earlier he hated visual art.
Audrey grins.
JOEY: I don’t know…I just want to do things on my own. Don’t you think it’s better for someone to figure out their lives independent from other people?
AUDREY: Oh, you mean like how you got Eddie into that writing school. Wasn’t that ‘fixing his life’?
Joey shakes her head.
JOEY: That’s completely different, Audrey. I was just…trying to…help…
As she says the words, the truth behind them slowly begins to seep in.
JOEY: Oh god…oh god…! I…that’s the same thing Dawson said to me today…
Joey puts her head in her hands.
JOEY: Last year I…I did the exact same thing Dawson would have…
AUDREY: Even though you were in Boston and he was in LA?
Joey nods, her eyes wide.
Audrey smiles proudly.
AUDREY: So the question remains…what are you going to do about it?
*****
Cut to the house. Dawson pulls some mail out of the mailbox and places it on the table. He then goes over to the television.
DAWSON: Pacey?
She sees a note on the TV. It says ‘gone to see play, be home late’.
Dawson tosses the note away, and then sighs.
He turns on the TV, temporarily forgetting about the note on the table.
*****
Cut to Worthington.
Hetson hears a knock on the door to his office. He sighs.
HETSON: Come on in.
Joey enters.
Hetson groans.
HETSON: Let me guess…about your grade, right?
Joey gives him a look.
JOEY: What do you have against me? I thought we were…
HETSON: Friends?
Joey bites her lip.
JOEY: Ok, maybe I was out of line with that thought, but…
HETSON: We are.
Joey pauses.
JOEY: We are what?
HETSON: Friends. Granted you’re a student so it’s kinda inappropriate to think of you as a peer, but generally not many people like me. You annoy me, Joey…but you’re also one of the only people who have ever tried to get to know me.
JOEY: I don’t understand, then. You really hated my story?
Hetson laughs.
JOEY: What’s so funny?
HETSON: Hated it? Come on, Miss Potter…I loved it. I’m a sucker for a good, old-fashioned mystery. Old school Bogart fan.
Joey’s eyes go wide.
JOEY: When why give me…?
HETSON: Oh, come on…B is hardly a lousy mark. What are you, some kind of perfectionist? As for the why…I’m your friend, but I’m also your teacher, Joey. I gave you the B because I know you can do better.
Joey raises an eyebrow.
JOEY: Better?
HETSON: You condensed a novel-length story into a few pages. I asked for a short story, and you went a step above. It’s not what I asked for, but it’s hardly a failure. You want an A?
He stands up, facing her in the eye.
HETSON: Finish it.
Joey smiles.
JOEY: Thank you.
She starts to head out the door, but pauses.
JOEY: You really think it was good? I mean, really good?
HETSON: Truthfully?
JOEY: Yeah?
Hetson smiles.
HETSON: It’d make a heck of a movie.
At that moment, Joey grins from ear to ear.
JOEY: It would.
Then she takes off running.