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INT. CLASSIC HOME - FRONT HALL - NIGHT
ARTHUR LESTER, someone's favorite pathetic British man, ENTERS the dark hallway through the front door. He's exhausted, his clothes worn with dried blood smeared on his sleeves and trousers.
JOHN
This house feels off.
Arthur's irises darken to black when JOHN, everyone's favorite fractured eldritch horror, speaks. Arthur shuts the door behind them, the BRIGHT LIGHT from outside disappearing as he does so. His irises lighten to brown once again. (This continues as the two alternate)
ARTHUR
We've been in worse places. It'll have to do for now.
He reaches his right arm out, eventually finding the wall and planting his palm against it.
JOHN
There's a switch to the right.
Arthur moves his hand over to the switch and flips it on. A few DIM LIGHTS turn on, giving the room an almost orange tone.
ARTHUR
Still feeling unsure?
JOHN
I'm... not sure.
Arthur CHUCKLES LIGHTLY.
JOHN (CONT’D)
Nothing here seems particularly out of the ordinary. We're in the front hall. There are shelves holding photo frames that contain pictures of smiling children. A sitting room is just ahead of us.
Arthur starts forward down the hall. Eventually, they enter a open sitting room.
JOHN (CONT’D)
There's a bland sofa in the center of the room, facing an unlit fireplace. It looks brand new, as if the home was recently furnished. There's space for a painting or photo to be hung above the mantle, but nothing currently there.
Arthur continues walking forward in the room, passing in front of the sofa towards the corner of the room.
JOHN (CONT’D)
There is also a-
Arthur runs into a short BENCH that reaches to his knees. He stumbles slightly, reaching his hand forward to catch himself. It lands and we hear the PLUNK of piano keys.
ARTHUR
A piano!
He presses a few of the keys in sequence.
ARTHUR (CONT’D)
A little out of tune. Probably hasn't been used in a while.
JOHN
I don't think this house has been used at all. Everything looks untouched, like a house waiting to be sold.
ARTHUR
Well, there's probably little chance of someone being upset at us holing up here for a while, then.
He pulls the bench out slightly and sits down, placing his hand on the keys. He presses two and moves his hand accordingly, coming to rest his thumb on Middle C.
JOHN
Are you going to play something?
ARTHUR
It's a bit difficult to play anything particularly intriguing with only one hand.
He plays a simple scale, the notes echoing through the empty room.
John's hand comes up onto the keys, pressing one tentatively.
JOHN
It doesn't seem too difficult. You could teach me something simple, if it would help.
Arthur smiles softly.
ARTHUR
You might find it a bit more difficult than you think.
He moves his hand up on the piano, resting his third finger on F#.
ARTHUR (CONT’D)
Alright, play that note again so I know where you are.
John's finger presses the key. The note reverberates through the empty room, off of plain walls and dark, curtained windows.
ARTHUR (CONT’D)
Mm, try the note three to the right.
John moves his hand and plays a G#.
ARTHUR (CONT’D)
Oh, sorry. Three white notes to the right.
John adjusts again and plays a B.
ARTHUR (CONT’D)
There you go. Now, move so that your pinky is on that note.
The wood at the tip of John's pinky CLACKS against the piano as he moves his hand.
JOHN
Okay. Now what?
ARTHUR
Now just mimic what I do.
Arthur shifts his hand down so it mirrors John's position, but an octave higher. He plays a simple progression: B, E, F#, E, B. He's slow and careful, pressing each note long enough that John can hear what it's meant to sound like.
John mirrors the movement, keeping the same slow beat.
ARTHUR (CONT’D)
There you go! A natural already. Now, move your pinky up to the black note behind it like this.
He moves his pinky back to B♭. John does the same.
JOHN
Why?
ARTHUR
Well, you can't just play the same thing over and over. It's a song, remember? It progresses and changes. But this one is simple, we're only changing one note each time. Watch.
Arthur plays the progression again with the new note: B♭, E, F#, E, B♭. John copies the progression in his lower octave.
ARTHUR (CONT’D)
Perfect. Now move down again.
He moves down to an A. John moves with him and, before Arthur can even model, plays the progression: A, E, F#, E, A.
ARTHUR (CONT’D)
Wow, look at you! Don't even need me anymore, do you?
JOHN
(softly)
Of course I do.
Arthur stalls slightly, John's tone catching him off guard.
ARTHUR
I-
JOHN
You still have to play the right hand.
Arthur relaxes.
ARTHUR
Oh, yes, right. I'll do that in a bit. You still have to learn two more.
JOHN
Let me guess, is it...
He moves down to A♭ and plays the progression. It sounds wrong.
ARTHUR
Hm, good try. But no, we're going to break the pattern a little bit now. Move down to the next white note instead, just here.
He models moving down to G. John follows.
ARTHUR (CONT’D)
Try this instead.
He plays a slightly different progression: G, B, D, B, G. Just before John plays, however, Arthur steps on the right pedal. When John plays the progression, it reverberates through the piano, the notes blending over each other. John's hand shoots back from the piano.
JOHN
What was that?! Arthur, I think something happened to the piano! It's acting different as if-
Arthur LAUGHS, bringing his hand up to partially cover his mouth as he does so. John trails off and you can hear the glare in his voice when he speaks again.
JOHN (CONT’D)
What? What am I missing?
ARTHUR
It's a part of the piano, it's supposed to do that. Look here,
He plays the progression again, without the pedal.
ARTHUR (CONT’D)
Now, when I press down on the pedal with my foot,
He plays it once more, pressing the pedal. The notes blend together.
ARTHUR (CONT’D)
Sounds nice, right?
JOHN
Don't do that again.
ARTHUR
No promises. Come on, one more progression.
John puts his hand back on the piano but he's hesitant, not trusting Arthur not to pull some other shit.
JOHN
What is it?
ARTHUR
Okay, so you have to move over a little more for this one, just back here to this last black key.
He moves so his first finger rests on top of G♭. John mirrors, but with his pinky.
ARTHUR (CONT’D)
Now, you're going to play all black notes here. Like this.
G♭, B♭, D♭, B♭, G♭. John mirrors it, holding the last note for a little while longer.
JOHN
This sounds familiar. Have you played this before?
ARTHUR
Oh, once or twice. You'll know it when we play it all together. Are you ready? Remember the first progression?
In response, John plays the first progression.
ARTHUR (CONT’D)
Good. Now, just play each progression after I play my part, alright?
JOHN
Alright.
ARTHUR
Here we go.
Arthur moves to a different position and begins to play, pressing down on the pedal this time. He plays the first measure and John quickly takes his hand off the piano.
JOHN
(quietly)
Arthur...
ARTHUR
It's alright, John.
JOHN
I don't want to... this is...
ARTHUR
I said it's alright. Come on, you didn't learn all of that for nothing.
JOHN
But this is... Arthur, this isn't for me.
Arthur reaches over and takes John's hand, bringing it back up onto the keyboard.
ARTHUR
It is for now. I really don't mind, I promise.
John takes a deep breath.
JOHN
Okay. Go again.
Arthur smiles and plays his part again. The first part of Faroe's Lullaby.
John hesitates for a beat after Arthur finishes before playing his part. This is why it felt so familiar. He's heard it plenty of times before, whether from Arthur, a music box, or a bloodstained piano in the center of a theatre.
They continue the song, slowly, carefully. John's parts don't flow the way Arthur's do, but it sounds just the same. Neither of them speak, as if doing so would disturb a child being lulled into a sleep that they'd never wake from again.
It's near the end that John hits a wrong note. He freezes up, stops playing. We can hear him take a sharp breath.
ARTHUR
John? Are you alright?
JOHN
Sorry.
ARTHUR
(gently)
You don't need to apologize. Just keep playing. You have to move past the wrong notes in order to finish the song. If you keep trying to correct them, you'll never learn or finish.
He gently moves John's hand back to the piano. Pressing his finger down on the correct note. Slowly, John finishes the progression. Once he does, Arthur moves his hand down and plays a finishing chord. He takes his hand off the piano, but keeps his foot on the pedal, allowing the chord to gradually fade from the room.
He takes a satisfied breath, sighing as the chord dies out.
ARTHUR
I haven't taught someone to play since... well, you know.
JOHN
(softly)
Faroe.
ARTHUR
Yes. It was this song.
(with a soft laugh)
Her little fingers weren't able to reach far enough to get the positions quite right. I had always hoped that she'd grow up to be able to play it alongside me.
The two sit there at the piano in silence for a moment. The empty silence of the room is almost suffocating.
JOHN
I'm sorry, Arthur.
ARTHUR
It happened a long time ago. There's nothing we can do about it now.
JOHN
But it still hurts. I don't want to make you relive that part of your life. I shouldn't have asked you to-
ARTHUR
No, I offered. And, really, it was... nice to play it with you. It feels like... not quite moving on but... remembering. Like looking at a photobook or visiting a grave. You're right, it still hurts. But I share that with you, and that makes it... tolerable.
JOHN
...It's bittersweet.
ARTHUR
Yes, that's a good word for it.
He plays the first measure again, slower this time. Without a hesitation, John follows with his own part. Arthur HUMS softly, a small smile.
ARTHUR (CONT’D)
Bittersweet.
END.