I'm still running, arms wide open...

Int. – day – Gypsy’s apartment.
Costume pieces scattered here and there, shelves and other furniture moved to make a boxed-in space for Clive. A few packing boxes already there, not unpacked yet.

Enter Clive & Gypsy, carrying boxes in from the car
GYPSY
Moved a few things around to give you your own space, just in case y’know?

CLIVE
You didn’t have to do anything like that G, don’t want to intrude or take over or anything.

GYPSY [setting box down and stretching]
You live here Clive. You’re not just coming for a visit. That means you’re allowed to take up as much space as you want… Just as long as you’re not bringing boys home at all hours and keeping me awake.

CLIVE [laughing]
Sure G. Because I'm going to have to keep them off with a stick. Right. I don’t even know if I'm going to make it in.

GYPSY [starting to unpack]
You’ll get the scholarship Clive, I know it, and hell, if not this one then the next. I saw the sketches, they’re good costumes and you’re good at clothes anyway, it’s like, your calling.

CLIVE
Thanks G.


Int. – evening – slow pan of Gypsy’s apartment, Clive’s things mostly unpacked, a few unfinished projects still in a box, sewing machine covered by a shawl

Clive – VO
So here I am. New York City, a month earlier than I thought I was going to be here. Still no word on whether or not I got into the school. Well, the program, the school I want has three different programs, and I applied for the one that seemed most likely to work.
There’s still time of course, I mean, it’s only just July, and the program doesn’t start until the end of September, but still, you’d think I’d have heard by now.
So far things are going well, it’s been a week and Gypsy hasn’t threatened to kick me out yet. The Trans still runs, and no one’s tried to steal it or anything. The campus has a garage, and according to the student testimonials on the website it’s safe enough, as long as you don’t leave valuables in plain sight. Just like anywhere I guess.
I did finally watch the footage from the Bar. Some of it was a bit fuzzy, not quite focused, but it was all there. All of it.
Now I'm just trying to remember what everyone said about how to get there so I can go back for an hour or two, let everyone know that I'm alright.

Int. - ICU coma ward - day
SFX: machines beeping, cart rolling past in the hall, birdsong outside, people talking quietly, TV on at a low volume.

LOIS
Try singing again? The doctor said his brain activity jumped last time.

GYPSY
One more time couldn’t hurt I guess. [sings ‘I sing for you’]

Scene gradually lightens, as of someone slowly waking

CLIVE
G?

GYPSY [overlapping Lois]
Clive!
LOIS [overlapping Gypsy]
You’re awake!
GYPSY
How do you feel?
LOIS
Can you talk? Do you need some water?
GYPSY [laughing]
Can’t tell us how you are if we don’t let you get a word in edgewise can you?


Int. – Clive’s basement room – night, lit by lamps and Christmas lights strung around the ceiling

Slow pan of the room, CDs, half-finished sewing projects, notebooks, fairly typical teenage jumble of objects

CLIVE – VO
Lois tells me that I didn’t snap awake like people in the movies do, I just opened my eyes and asked what day it was.
It’s only been a week since the crash, Gypsy says she’s paying to have the Trans re-fitted as a convertible, since it was only the roof and the one door that got mangled. Everyone says I'm lucky to be alive even, and moreso with minimal injuries, even the concussion will be alright now that I'm awake.
I still can’t get over the fact that it’s only been a week.
Even so, Gypsy’s already got a steady job at Mother, she’s found an apartment and she’s just waiting for her bank account to transfer over so she can pay the deposit and everything,
I haven’t watched any of my footage yet, kind of afraid to really, in case it’s all blank or something.
Everything’s still in the notebook though, all the measurements and contact information and lyrics. Gypsy likes the lyrics and says the guitar tabs are genius. I don’t think she believes that it wasn’t me, but she’s not going to say so.
I guess, maybe what I'm really afraid of is that the tape’s NOT blank, because all the writing and everything could always be the effects of too much alcohol, or drugs, or something. But the camera never lies.

Clive nudged the door open, "I'd say 'pardon the mess' but really there isn't one. S'what happens when I haven't got much to my name."

It was true, the room was small and surprisingly uncluttered, there was a stack of CDs on the bedside table, a few notebooks under it, out of the way, and a cardboard box overflowing with fabric scraps over by the treadle sewing machine he'd borrowed from Bar, other than that though it looked more or less like a normal economy-class hotel room.

Well then suddenly...
there was no one...left standing
In the hall...yeah, yeah...
In a flood of tears
That no one really ever heard fall at all
Oh I went searchin' for an answer...
Up the stairs...and down the hall
Not to find an answer...
just to hear the call
Of a nightbird...singing...
come away...come away...

Clive smiled to himself, crookedly as he sang along, it had been a long drive, and slow without Gypsy there to talk to the whole way, but he knew she’d be alright, she was going to be a big star, and he’d drive back to New York when her album was released, just so he could be there, so he could tell his grandkids about it when he was old and gray.

He laughed at that idea, shaking his head and flicking his bangs from his eyes, singing along with the chorus as he came around the corner, “Just like the white winged dove...
sings a song ...
Sounds like she's singing...
whoo...whoo…”

The final ‘whoo’ was cut off by a squeal of tires, a crash, he heard the impact more than he felt it, thrown hard against the door, it took him a moment to realize that the car had rolled, was still rolling, broken glass and sparks showered down on him, he felt a crunch and a tug
And then he blinked, because there was a door, in the ground, through the crushed roof of the Trans, so he stepped through...