| Alice: | An actor. Name is only for reference when reading lines. May be any gender. |
| Bob: | An actor. Name is only for reference when reading lines. May be any gender. |
I-1-1
| SETTING: | A living room. |
| AT RISE: | ALICE and BOB are on stage, sitting on a couch. |
Seven minutes to midnight. You ready?
Always. Champagne’s chilling, music’s queued, emotional vulnerability is bubbling just beneath the surface. I even practiced my New Year's kiss.
(Laughs) Good. We don't need a repeat of last year's kiss.
What's New Year's without cracking our foreheads against one another.
At least neither one of us needed stitches. But, instead of cracking our foreheads open, I think it would be a great New Year’s tradition to crack our hearts open... like glow sticks. Really connect, you know?
I-1-2
We can do that. How about we trade our best and worst moments of the year. You first, what's your favorite thing that happened this year?
Easy. That trip to the cabin in January. The snow, the fireplace, how we got lost and almost killed each other, but then made s’mores and played cards all night.
Remember that deer? The one was staring at us through the bedroom window in the morning?
Oh my! I forgot about him. What did we name him?
Peeping Fawn.
That's why I forgot. We are terrible at trying to make up silly names.
It was better than Stag-Gazer.
Only slightly. But, your turn. What is your favorite memory of the year?
I-1-3
You’re gonna think it’s cheesy.
Cheese me up.
The Tuesday we both called in sick. We binge-watched that terrible cooking show and decided to try and make pizza from scratch. Then, we sat on the couch, ignoring news, and fell asleep at like 10. You had your head on my shoulder, and I remember thinking, 'This is it. This is everything.' Though, honestly, that pizza was objectively bad. Worse than the cooking show.
That was... painfully ordinary.
Exactly. It was perfect.
Okay. Least favorite?
(sighs) Ugh. The April layoffs. That whole month was miserable. You were stressed, I was a wreck... we barely spoke. And that stupid show again. I formed a stress-baking habit, which means we ate way too many questionable muffins.
I-1-4
Yeah.
And you?
It isn't one thing. It was the whole summer, trying to get to the end of the month. It felt like we were just trying to shovel money into our account, but it kept leaking out. I knew we would make it. I knew we could. It was just hard and I kept feeling like I wanted to blame you.
I know exactly what you mean. You would be stressed and suggest we get takeout. I would say yes, but I didn't want to spend the money on it. I didn't even enjoy the takeout at that point. I can't say I blamed you. I blamed us. We were not making the best choices.
There’s... something I’ve been meaning to say. And I don’t want to carry it into the new year.
Okay.
I-1-5
My least favorite moment wasn’t really the summer finances or the layoffs. It was... that night I said I was working late? In June?
Yeah?
(Quietly) I wasn’t at work. I had drinks with someone. Someone I used to date.
Why?
I didn’t plan it. I ran into them and... I don’t know. I was feeling disconnected from us. Like we were just roommates sharing a lease, not... us. It didn’t go anywhere after that one night, I swear. It was mostly just awkward small talk and, well, I felt more like I was watching myself in a bad movie. I knew it was a mistake, but I lied. And that lie’s been sitting, right here in my chest, like a brick.
I'm so sorry. I really need to hear something, anything. Not silence.
I-1-6
Okay. You want honesty? My least favorite part of April wasn't really the layoffs. You remember that week you got fed up with the stress and went to your sister’s?
(nods slowly) Yeah?
I kissed someone. Someone I shouldn’t have. Just once. But it wasn’t really meaningless. And I haven’t forgiven myself since. I wanted to tell you right away, but I got scared. Scared I’d lose you. Scared of what it meant about me... about us. It was a moment of weakness, fueled by too much cheap wine and a profound misunderstanding of personal boundaries.
Who!?
Does it really matter?
Jessie. I slept with Jessie.
Jordan.
Our neighbor!?
I-1-7
Yes. You were gone. I was stressed. It was just one thing, then another, then another, then, well, you know. You see someone all the time and you wonder, what if?
I don't see Jessie all the time. Now, how am I supposed to go out without worrying about seeing Jordan?
It isn't a competition to see who did the worst thing. We both made mistakes. We both lied. We both feel hurt and terrible and rotten and... I don't even know anymore.
So... we both broke something.
Yeah. And we both kept it a secret. That’s the real kicker, isn't it? The silence. We're great at keeping secrets. Terrible at being honest.
Why are we like this?
Because we’re human. And scared. And sometimes selfish. But also... because we love each other. Even when we mess up. Love isn't about being perfect. It's about coming back to each other, even when it hurts.
I-1-8
Do you still love me?
More than anything. Do you?
God, yes. Even now. No. Especially now. It feels like this confession, ugly as it is, has cleared the air. Like I can finally breathe again.
What do we do? Other than go next door in the morning and punch Jordan right in the face.
We decide. Right now. Do we carry this pain into the new year, or leave it right here? Do we let it define us, or do we let it be the catalyst for something new, something stronger?
Frankly, I'm exhausted from carrying all this emotional baggage. My back hurts. It physically hurts.
I want to leave it.
I-1-9
I want to start fresh. If we can.
We can. It won’t be perfect. But it can be real. More real than we’ve been in a long time.
Look. One minute to midnight. Goodbye, old year.
Goodbye, guilt. Goodbye lies. Goodbye walls between us.
Hello, truth. Hello second chances. Hello, us. The real us.
Happy New Year.
Happy New Year.