910 medina studios, arts district, 10:29pm
carson: (inhales sharply) i can’t fucking believe you’re doing this to me again.
lily: (sternly) language.
carson opens his mouth to protest but catches himself. flying off the handle now won’t get him what he wants…he closes his eyes, exhales slowly and prepares to bargain for a bit more time…
carson: why’d you make me come back if you were going to dump me somewhere else again?
lily: (shakes head) carson…we’re not dumping you. you have to realize that you’re a bit of a liability at this point…
carson: (hisses) A LIABILITY? I’M YOUR FUCKING BLOOD!
lily remains calm and composed
lily: you’re going to be difficult about this, aren’t you?
carson: (exasperated) difficult?! i’m difficult?! you guys drag me from work in the middle of the day and thew me on a plane to some rehab facility in bum fuck nowhere and now you’re going drag me AGAIN from home in the dead of night because i’m a liability. (holding head) ugh, what is that sound…they can’t be doing construction this late….fuck.
carson: 姨媽, i’m sorry, you can’t ship me off again. i had one bad slip up and —
lily: (through her teeth) one of many, carson. your record is clean because of the work victor and i have to do behind the scenes. we cannot have that linked back to us. especially now that simon is running.
carson: (sighs) yes. and it’s not that i’m grateful but you can’t do this. not now…
his voice breaks
carson: every fucking time. every fucking time i get in trouble and this shit… (tearing up) i’m so fucking sick of being thrown away when it’s not convenient to have me around.
he stops
carson: (aggravated) what is that FUCKING sound…
lily: (louder) you probably should answer your (fades out)
carson: (confused) my what?
lily: your PHONE (loudly) ANSWER YOUR PHONE.
carson: w-what?
carson jolts out of bed
