338. Threads of Skin - Leslie

• FADE IN:


• INT. MANHATTAN BEACH BOARDWALK - DAY


• BLAKE leans against the railing looking out over the ocean.


• TIM stands next to him, people watching.


• A BRUNETTE walks past them and almost on cue, they turn, primal instincts triggering a reaction.


• Her lips are pressed tight together and she is biting the inside of her lip ever so slightly.


• She moves away from every person who passes her, just barely, but with enough force to see as if a magnet was repelling her.


• Tim looks over at Blake.


• Blake has gone expressionless.


• TIM
• Oh, for goodness sake. You and fragile girls.


• BLAKE
• She was so fragile. Like the slightest brush of a hand would make her dissolve into ash. It's as if she's already broken into millions of tiny pieces, just barely held together by threads of skin.


• TIM
• You know, it's almost pornographic the way you fetishize women in pain.


• BLAKE
• I don't fetishize. I'm constantly intrigued. Because the strength it takes to hold yourself together, just barely, is amazing to me.


• TIM
• Huh...it's more like you get some kind of odd joy...not sadistic, but still, some odd joy from that kind of pain. It's really disturbing.




• BLAKE
• You know I don't get pleasure out of it. There is an emotion I experience. I can't name it, there are thousands of emotions without names - they'll never have names. And yeah, this one shares some of the twinges of...joy, but it's not joy. It's bittersweetness....for lack of anything else. There are strands of joy and pain and sickness all pulled tight together. I, I'm not making much sense am I?


• TIM
• I'm sure you are to someone out there.


• Blake turns back to the ocean and Tim to the sidewalk.


• FADE TO BLACK.