EXT. APARTMENT BUILDING, NEW YORK CITY - MORNING
It is a quiet Sunday morning on the narrow blocks of the Upper East Side. The
sky is just grey enough and the air just cool enough that the PEOPLE wandering
from bagel shops and diners don’t have to squint or bristle as they make their
Down one of the winsome side streets is a small brick apartment building with a
concrete stoop and a red front door.
Through the red door, past meager security measures, and up the slender winding
staircase, is a tiny apartment on the fourth floor.
From beyond the wooden door marked “4B” comes the muffled sound of a phone
INT. APARTMENT, LIVING ROOM - MORNING
Inside is a very tiny, mostly tidy living room. The only bit of chaos apparent
here is a trail of hastily shed clothing.
A pair of mens trousers, a woman’s blouse, a lacy black bra, crumpled tube
socks, all lead to a bedroom door slightly ajar.
The ringing grows louder.
INT. TINY APARTMENT, BEDROOM - MORNING
Immediately discernible are a chair with a weeks worth of dirty clothes, a pile
of romance novels tucked under the dresser, and a phone buzzing from the bedside
In the bed are two lumps. One stirs at the sound of the phone. Moans and
groans bellow from beneath the covers as an arm emerges to quiet the noise.
The covers drop, the lump is a girl, RAMONA, slight and pretty wearing last
night’s makeup and nothing else.
She speaks into the phone with raspy hangover voice.
Hello? Oh, Winnie. Hi.
Ramona slumps into the bed on her back. She notices the other lump and GASPS.
Oh my God!
She pulls down the covers to reveal the head and torso of a very attractive man.
Oh my God. Winnie, I can’t talk
right now. There’s a movie star
in my bed.
Ramona lifts the covers a bit and looks under.
Yes, he’s naked.
She sits back again.
Oh, good heavens. So am I.
Ramona draws the covers to her chest, securing them tightly with her arms.
No, I don’t remember how!
She carefully raises the Movie Star’s cover and takes another peek under.
I wish I did. I’m almost certain
I had a good time.
The Movie Star stirs. Ramona drops the covers and begins whispering again.
Oh dear God, I can’t remember his
Ramona begins rubbing her temples in angst.
Yes. No. I think he was in that
one with Mel Gibson. It had
explosions and these bad guys . . .
She throws down her hands in anger.
Well give me a break, Winnie. I’m
Her face brightens.
Oh! It was the one having to do
with terrorists or something.
Why must Mel Gibson do the same
movie over and over again?
Ramona leans over the Movie Star and cranes her neck to get a better look at his
No he’s not a porn star.
She tilts her head and squints.
No, no I’m positive. Come on
think, think. Well, let’s see...
Ramona fumbles her hand over the covers to find his feet. She gently slides her
body down under the covers covering her head, until her feet are parallel to his.
She quickly slides out again to her sitting up position.
Six foot. Mmmm. Sandy blond.
Well now, they’re closed aren’t
Ramona turns to him and looks at him sweetly.
Yes, quite handsome. Very sexy.
Ramona leans over the side of the bed, rooting under the bedside table. Paper
RUSTLING, glasses CLANGING, she emerges with a magazine in her hand.
She places it between her palms and takes a deep breath.
People Magazine do me this one
favor and I will finally register
for that three year subscription.
Ramona opens the magazine and frantically searches through its pages.
Victory! Page 37!
The Movie Star stirs again this time he appears to be waking up.
Bye Winnie. Thank you. Love you.
Call you later!
Ramona quickly hangs up the phone and adjusts herself to look casual just as the
Movie Star’s eyes begin to open.
He rolls onto his side props himself on one elbow and wraps the other arm around
Ramona. He gives her a sweet peck on the lips and looks down at her.
Good morning Ramona.
Good morning Jack.
A smile spreads across her face. They pull the covers over their heads.
SQUEALS of laughter.
|2012 © Libby Street © Emily S. Morris Web Design By: Emily S. Morris
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