10-08-2015, 06:49 AM
(This post was last modified: 10-08-2015, 11:07 AM by Hexenadler.)
INT. RESTAURANT - NIGHT
Juliette sits alone at one of the booths. She stares out the window.
George approaches the table. He puts a chocolate milkshake, poured into a big, beautifully shaped glass, in front of Juliette. She looks at the glass.
JULIETTE: (snide) A milkshake? Seriously?
George shrugs and picks up the glass. He starts to walk back. Juliette calls out like a sulking child:
JULIETTE: I didn't say I didn't want it.
George slowly returns to the table. Puts the milkshake back down. He sits opposite from Juliette.
After a moment, Juliette talks. Her voice low and miserable.
JULIETTE: It's not going to get any easier, Dad. You know it isn't.
George says nothing.
JULIETTE: I feel like a kid who spent her whole life loving butterflies, then suddenly found out how much fun pulling off their wings can be. Everything I've done...I'm never going to apologize for any of it. Hexenbiests don't do guilt. What we do is pain and hate.
GEORGE: I pretty much figured that out for myself.
Juliette looks directly into her father's eyes. Her tone somewhere between mocking and self-loathing.
JULIETTE: So, do you still want me for a daughter? An evil bitch who tricked her boyfriend's mom into getting her head chopped off?
There's no anger or reproach in George's voice as he replies.
GEORGE: Sure, you're an evil bitch. I'd be the biggest jackass in Portland not to see that. But we both have the same problem.
JULIETTE: What?
He starts to reach out his hand to Juliette's. She pulls back.
GEORGE: You're still my little girl.
Juliette stares down at the milkshake.
JULIETTE: (quietly) I guess we'll just have to take it one day at a time, huh?
GEORGE: (short pause) Yeah.
Juliette puts the straw to her mouth and drinks the milkshake. George watches, not saying another word.
Juliette sits alone at one of the booths. She stares out the window.
George approaches the table. He puts a chocolate milkshake, poured into a big, beautifully shaped glass, in front of Juliette. She looks at the glass.
JULIETTE: (snide) A milkshake? Seriously?
George shrugs and picks up the glass. He starts to walk back. Juliette calls out like a sulking child:
JULIETTE: I didn't say I didn't want it.
George slowly returns to the table. Puts the milkshake back down. He sits opposite from Juliette.
After a moment, Juliette talks. Her voice low and miserable.
JULIETTE: It's not going to get any easier, Dad. You know it isn't.
George says nothing.
JULIETTE: I feel like a kid who spent her whole life loving butterflies, then suddenly found out how much fun pulling off their wings can be. Everything I've done...I'm never going to apologize for any of it. Hexenbiests don't do guilt. What we do is pain and hate.
GEORGE: I pretty much figured that out for myself.
Juliette looks directly into her father's eyes. Her tone somewhere between mocking and self-loathing.
JULIETTE: So, do you still want me for a daughter? An evil bitch who tricked her boyfriend's mom into getting her head chopped off?
There's no anger or reproach in George's voice as he replies.
GEORGE: Sure, you're an evil bitch. I'd be the biggest jackass in Portland not to see that. But we both have the same problem.
JULIETTE: What?
He starts to reach out his hand to Juliette's. She pulls back.
GEORGE: You're still my little girl.
Juliette stares down at the milkshake.
JULIETTE: (quietly) I guess we'll just have to take it one day at a time, huh?
GEORGE: (short pause) Yeah.
Juliette puts the straw to her mouth and drinks the milkshake. George watches, not saying another word.