(Int: Small apartment. Noon)

“It was just a fucking dream, dude”, moans Dean while rolling his eyes…as he normally does. “There was no building. You weren’t in an airplane. You never lived on the beach. That kid never fell off whatever structure you were just describing because those structures don’t exist anywhere unless you wanna go build it. I have a feeling you won’t because you’ll be to afraid some kid will try to do what you said you saw and kill himself…skip to the next track, will ya?”

Arthur: How come every time I’m upset about something that I feel like I really experienced, you’ve gotta shoot it down as fiction.

Dean: Look, the scientist has plenty of books on existentialism if you wanna go bug him. Start with Decartes and work your way up. I’ve got way more important things to worry right now.

Arthur: But it was so real. It always i(s).

Dean: (abruptly) DUDE! I’m serious. I’m trying to get us out of here and it’s hard to do that with you screaming all the time about the shit you see when you’re sleeping. What am I supposed to do with that?

Arthur: I dunno, maybe help? You do the same thing I do where your chest catches fire when you’re upset, and I wanna know what you do to make it stop.

Dean: It doesn’t. It just doesn’t. That’s what the scientist is here for, man, and even he’s not been much help, yet.

Arthur: So we’re just supposed to wait…

Dean: Don’t taunt me. You know patience isn’t my thing, and it doesn’t look like it’s yours either. The longer this conversation goes on, we’re gonna end up setting this whole place on fire and kill everyone in it…now go some-…wait, NOW what are you doing?

(Arthur scrolls through the music and chooses another song)

Dean: (gives Arthur blank stare)You are the worst DJ ever. I’d hate to have all that soy-latte audio flowing through my head the way you do.

Arthur: Well, you had a nightmare the other night, too.

Dean: Man, what did I tell you? I’m busy! I’m not the least bit interested in playing therapy swap with you.

Arthur: But You do it, too! I wanna know what you saw!

Dean: Nothin’, man.

Arthur: TELL ME!

Dean: (sigh) I watched her die.

Arthur: Who? HER her?

Dean: No, not HER her. The young one. A man swallowed her whole.

Arthur: …and it freaked you out…

Dean: YES, and I felt weird the rest of the day, but it was just a dream. Seriously, I’m working on something. Get out of my room…

Arthur: You’re a dick and your mask is ugly.

(Dean stands and moves towards Arthur in an aggressive posture)

Dean: KID! Fucking GO before I smash your fucking…

Arthur runs out, slamming the door behind him (stage left), leaving Dean standing alone in the middle of his apartment. The words “You meant everything” come out of the speakers, repeatedly. His chest is on fire.