The Concert

         (MATT shows up to the concert.  Only EVE is there.)

MATT:  Uh…

EVE:  Hi.

MATT:  I’m Matt.

EVE:  Hi Matt.

MATT:  I’m, uh, here for the concert?

EVE:  There is no concert.

MATT:  No, there absolutely is a concert, because I drove here from—

EVE:  Matt, listen to me, there is no concert.  There isn’t going to be a concert.  The world is ending.

MATT:  I know that, but the concert—

EVE:  Why would there be a concert when the world is ending?

MATT:  Because it might not end?

EVE:  Either way, people are with their loved ones right now.  They’re not a stupid concert.

MATT:  So it was canceled?

EVE:  No, it wasn’t canceled.  Officially.  I don’t think anybody’s really putting out press releases right now.  But, nevertheless, there isn’t going to be a concert.

MATT:  So nobody else showed up?

EVE:  Well, people are trying to show up, but getting into the city is—

MATT:  Yeah, I know, everything’s all backed up.  People are…fleeing the city.  I don’t know where they think they’re going.

EVE:  They feel an urge to move.  To get out of the way.  A comet’s a’comin’.  Throughout the history of mankind, there has probably never been a time when people knew something was coming, tried to get out of the way, and found that there really wasn’t anywhere they could go.  Like, nowhere on the planet.  So, I guess, old habits die hard.

MATT:  So nobody else—

EVE:  There’s a few people inside.  Mulling about.  Drinking, obviously.  I don’t blame them.

MATT:  Shit.

         (He seems to realize whatever he hoped was going to happen isn’t going to happen.)

EVE:  You meeting somebody?

MATT:  No, I just…I really like the band.

EVE:  Have you ever seen them before?

MATT:  Not live, no.  It was kind of a—I mean, obviously I’m not that old, but it was kind of a bucket list thing.

EVE:  They’re not good enough to be on a bucket list.  Don’t get me wrong, I like them, but they’re not a bucket list band.

MATT:  They have that song though, about…their friend who, uh…

EVE:  Scott.

MATT:  Scott, right, Scott.

EVE:  I knew Scott.

MATT:  No way.

EVE:  Yeah, no, I did.  I’m friends with the band.  The singer is actually my sister.

MATT:  YOU’RE KIDDING ME!

EVE:  I am not kidding you, Matt.

MATT:  So you’re here but—

EVE:  The band’s still back at the hotel.  They said ‘Screw it.’  They’re not coming.  I’m sorry.

MATT:  So why did you—

EVE:  I figured I should—I thought somebody should—make an announcement or something.  I felt bad.

MATT:  So you knew Scott?

EVE:  We dated.

MATT:  SHUT UP!

EVE:  Wow, you are a fan, aren’t you?

MATT:  So you—when he--?

EVE:  When he died, yeah.

MATT:  I’m so sorry.

EVE:  (Shrugs.)  It was a long time ago.  We were…kids.

MATT:  That song really helped me.  I, um, had some…I was really messed up for a long time, and I used to listen to that song, and it, uh…gave me hope.

EVE:  Wow.  I’ve never actually—I mean, people obviously love the song, but I’ve never heard anybody say it ‘gave them hope.’

MATT:  Well, it gave me hope.  And I just wanted to, um, it’s stupid, but—thank the band.  For that.

EVE:  You can thank me if you want.  I wrote the song.

MATT:  Hahaha no you didn’t.

EVE:  I did.

MATT:  No, you didn’t.  Your sister—

EVE:  Can’t write a happy birthday message on the inside of a greeting card.  She just takes some of the heat off me.  I don’t like people asking me about…songs and stuff.

MATT:  So you wrote ‘Scott?’

EVE:  I should have changed his name.  I’m surprised nobody sued me.

MATT:  I, uh, I really owe you.

EVE:  You don’t me anything, Matt.  If anything, my sister and her band owe you.  I’m guessing you spent money on the ticket, and chances are the refund won’t be back in your account until after we enter a new Ice Age so—

MATT:  No, but seriously—Thank you.  I don’t really—I mean, there wouldn’t be enough time to really tell you—everything.  But…what you did.  It saved my life.

         (A beat.)

EVE:  You know, that’s funny, because…I always sort of wished I could have written that song for the person it’s about.  Maybe it would have saved him.

         (He puts his hand on her shoulder.)

MATT:  I should let you get back to the hotel.

EVE:  Oh, I’m not going back there.  They’re all sitting around singing James Taylor.  I’d rather stand directly in front of the comet.

MATT:  Well, do you want to go inside and let me be all fanboy on you for the rest of the night?

EVE:  Actually, I’d really like that.  Just as long as you don’t hold ‘Dance Like You’re Naked’ against me.

MATT:  Oh God, you wrote that too?

EVE:  Yup.

MATT:  That song is awful!

EVE:  Hey, you can’t win ‘em all.

         (They enter the club together.)