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None of it is real anyway. Maybe they were always meant to end up in a dimly lit corner with ulterior motives and glasses of champagne, pretending they were exactly where they wanted to be.
“What does Connor know about art? Don’t get me wrong, I love my brother but I once caught him jerking off to the Gadsden flag. Did he even get the anti-libertarian subtext in your third act?”
“Okay big deal you read my play. Is this some kind of power move?”
Shiv gets too close, her fingers reaching out to tuck a loose strand of Willa’s hair into place so she’s not looking at her when she says, “I read your play because it’s fucking brilliant and I know you want to say yes to me.”