The Director

“Don’t tighten it.”

“It’s slipping.”

“It’s cutting.”

“Good.”

“Don’t say good.”

“Breathe.”

“Don’t tell me to breathe like you’re helping.”

“I am helping.”

“You locked the door.”

“So you wouldn’t run.”

“So no one would hear.”

“You can scream.”

“Don’t say that like it’s permission.”

“Say my name.”

“No.”

“Say it.”

“You took my phone.”

“You don’t need it.”

“I need it.”

“For what?”

“For the part of the world that isn’t you.”

“Look at me.”

“I can’t turn my head.”

“Then look with your voice.”

“Shift the chair—mark to the lamp. I can’t use this angle.”

“Untie my wrists.”

“Not yet.”

“You said ‘not long.’”

“And I meant it.”

“You always mean things in a way that only helps you.”

“That’s not fair.”

“Fair left when you shut the bolt.”

“You’re safe.”

“I’m restrained.”

“Same thing.”

“No.”

“It is when you’re the one who hurts yourself.”

“Don’t.”

“Don’t what?”

“Don’t turn me into a diagnosis.”

“Then stop turning everything into an exit.”

“There is no exit.”

“There’s always an exit.”

“Not when you’re tied to a chair.”

“You hear yourself?”

“Yes.”

“Then hear me.”

“I am.”

“No, you’re hearing what you want.”

“I want you to be honest.”

“I am being honest.”

“Not the thing.”

“What thing?”

“The truth.”

“The truth is I’m scared.”

“Say it without the easy word.”

“That’s the truth.”

“Say it without the easy word.”

“I don’t trust you.”

“There it is.”

“Don’t celebrate.”

“Why not? I earned it.”

“You didn’t earn anything.”

“I earned your attention.”

“This isn’t attention.”

“What is it?”

“A mistake.”

“Say it like you mean it.”

“It’s a mistake.”

“Again.”

“It’s a mistake.”

“Again.”

“It’s a mistake.”

“Good.”

“Stop.”

“Stop what?”

“Stop making me repeat myself like I’m an instrument.”

“You’re not an instrument.”

“Then untie me.”

“Not yet.”

“Why.”

“Because you keep trying to leave the moment.”

“Because the moment is a trap.”

“The moment is the only place you can’t lie.”

“I can lie plenty.”

“Then do it.”

“What?”

“Lie.”

“I love you.”

“No.”

“You asked.”

“I asked for a good lie.”

“You want a better one?”

“Yes.”

“Untie me and I’ll tell you anything you want.”

“See?”

“See what?”

“You barter.”

“I negotiate.”

“You manipulate.”

“I survive.”

“Say that again.”

“I survive.”

“Again.”

“I survive.”

“Again.”

“I survive.”

“Good.”

“You’re enjoying the sound of it.”

“I’m enjoying you admitting it.”

“Admitting what?”

“That you know you’re in trouble.”

“I’m not the one in trouble.”

“You think you’re above trouble.”

“I think you’re sick.”

“Say it.”

“You’re sick.”

“Again.”

“You’re sick.”

“Again.”

“You’re sick.”

“Good.”

“Stop.”

“Stop what?”

“Stop making a choir out of my fear.”

“It’s not fear.”

“It’s pain.”

“Where?”

“My wrists.”

“And?”

“My throat.”

“Why your throat?”

“Because you keep asking me to speak like that fixes anything.”

“It fixes me.”

“That’s the problem.”

“You always make my needs into a problem.”

“Your needs are a cliff.”

“Beautiful.”

“Don’t.”

“Don’t what?”

“Don’t get poetic. It means you’re about to do something stupid.”

“Cruel.”

“Cruel is leaving.”

“Cruel is tying someone down and calling it intimacy.”

“You used to like intimacy.”

“You used to ask.”

“I’m asking now.”

“No you’re not.”

“What am I doing?”

“You’re taking.”

“Say it.”

“You’re taking.”

“Again.”

“You’re taking.”

“Again.”

“You’re taking.”

“Good.”

“You sound like you practiced.”

“I did practice.”

“Of course you did.”

“I practiced not being small.”

“You’re not small.”

“I am to everyone who never looks up.”

“Stop.”

“No.”

“Please.”

“Don’t say please. You don’t get to borrow softness.”

“Softness is the whole point.”

“No. Control is the point.”

“Untie me.”

“Look at me.”

“Untie me.”

“Look at me.”

“Stop doing that.”

“Doing what?”

“Trading my body for your calm.”

“I’m calm.”

“You’re not calm.”

“I’m in perfect control.”

“Then unlock the door.”

“Not yet.”

“Why.”

“Because you’ll run back to your normal life and tell yourself I was a glitch.”

“This is a crime.”

“This is a conversation.”

“This is coercion.”

“Say it without your big words.”

“This is you making me stay.”

“Again.”

“This is you making me stay.”

“Again.”

“This is you making me stay.”

“Good.”

“Stop.”

“No.”

“Stop.”

“No.”

“Stop.”

“No.”

“You’re going to do it now.”

“Do what?”

“The speech.”

“What speech?”

“The one you’ve been feeding all night.”

“You think you know me.”

“I know your patterns.”

“Then tell me.”

“You get loud when you’re afraid someone will laugh.”

“I’m not afraid.”

“You are.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“Listen.”

“I’m listening.”

“Do you know what silence is?”

“Stop.”

“Do you know what silence is?”

“Stop.”

“Silence is not quiet. Silence is a room someone leaves you in.”

“Stop.”

“Silence is days of ‘seen’ and no answer.”

“Stop.”

“Silence is being treated like the air between better people.”

“Stop.”

“Silence is when you walk away and you still want credit for not slamming the door.”

“Stop.”

“Silence is what made me learn to talk like this.”

“Stop.”

“Silence is what made me practice.”

“Stop.”

“Silence is what made me build an audience out of one person who can’t leave.”

“Stop.”

“You hear how that sounds?”

“I hear how it’s true.”

“It isn’t true.”

“It is.”

“You’re not a victim.”

“I’m not?”

“No.”

“Then why does it feel like I’ve been swallowing glass for years?”

“Because you dramatize.”

“Because nobody listens unless I dramatize.”

“Untie me.”

“Not yet.”

“You’re proving my point.”

“What point?”

“That you don’t want me. You want an ending.”

“I want you to stay.”

“You want me to stay because it makes your story work.”

“It’s not a story.”

“It’s always a story with you.”

“Then tell me the ending.”

“The ending is you unlock the door.”

“No.”

“The ending is you untie my wrists.”

“No.”

“The ending is you stop calling this love.”

“No.”

“Then the ending is someone finds me.”

“No.”

“Then the ending is you ruin your life.”

“Say that again.”

“The ending is you ruin your life.”

“Again.”

“The ending is you ruin your life.”

“Again.”

“The ending is you ruin your life.”

“Good.”

“Why good?”

“Because you finally said it like you mean it.”

“I mean it.”

“And that’s love.”

“That’s not love.”

“Then what is love?”

“Love is letting go.”

“Say it again.”

“Love is letting go.”

“Again.”

“Love is letting go.”

“Again.”

“Love is letting go.”

“Good."

“Stop.”

“No.”

“Stop.”

“No.”

“Stop.”

“No.”

“Please.”

“Don’t.”

“Don’t what?”

“Don’t make me beg in your rhythm.”

“Then beg in yours.”

“Untie me.”

“Say please.”

“No.”

“Say please.”

“No.”

“Say please.”

“Please.”

“There.”

“There what?”

“There’s the sound.”

“You don’t want my safety. You want my sound.”

“I want your truth.”

“My truth is simple.”

“Say it.”

“You’re not going to let me go.”

“Again.”

“You’re not going to let me go.”

“Again.”

“You’re not going to let me go.”

“Good.”

“And here it comes.”

“What.”

“The part where you pretend you’re doing this for a reason.”

“I am doing it for a reason.”

“Say it.”

“You want the reason?”

“Yes.”

“You want the reason because you think a reason is a key.”

“Stop.”

“You think if you can name the reason you can talk the bolt open.”

“Stop.”

“You think if you keep your voice steady enough you can make me a person again.”

“Stop.”

“You want a reason like you want an apology.”

“Stop.”

“A reason is a costume. An apology is a costume. Even your fear is a costume when you put it on neat.”

“Stop.”

“I know costumes.”

“Stop.”

“I make them. I pin them. I light them. I watch people become believable from ten feet away.”

“Stop.”

“I didn’t pick you because you’re pretty.”

“Stop.”

“I didn’t pick you because you’re kind.”

“Stop.”

“I picked you because you can hit truth on cue.”

“Stop.”

“I watched you do it under a hot lamp with tape on the floor telling you where to stand, and you still made it look like freedom.”

“Stop.”

“I was behind the monitor and I thought: if she looked at me like that—just once—without a lens between us—I’d finally be real.”

“Stop.”

“You’re sick.”

“Insane is a word people use when they don’t want to call it what it is.”

“Stop.”

“It’s blocking. It’s marks. It’s control dressed as craft.”

“Stop.”

“And out there, you get to leave when the take is over.”

“Stop.”

“You get to walk off set, laugh with makeup, check your phone, go back to being untouched.”

“Stop.”

"And I’m the voice that says again.”

“Stop.”

“So I built a set where you can’t walk away mid-scene.”

“Stop.”

“My chair. My rope. My bolt. My light.”

“Stop.”

“I didn’t do this for your body.”

“Stop.”

“I did it for your attention.”

“Stop.”

“I did it so your eyes would stop searching for the door and start searching for me.”

“Stop.”

“Untie me.”

“Not yet.”

“Please.”

“Hold.”

“Cut. Thank you.”

“We’ll be in touch.”

“Next.”

“Name?”

“Gregory Hanson.”

“Which role?”

“The Director.”