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(Scene picks up right after Lars snaps, “Ahhh, whatever, it didn’t matter, I don’t care!”)
RONALDO: Lars… wait.
(Lars stops mid-step, shoulders tense. He doesn’t turn around.)
RONALDO (slower, quieter): I wasn’t trying to make you look bad with the picture. I swear. But what I did—sacrificing you—(he swallows hard)—it was stupid. I panicked. The building wanted you, and I… I thought if I gave it what it wanted, I could save Sadie.
(Lars turns around, expression tight and conflicted. He looks like he wants to be mad, but mostly he’s just tired.)
LARS (turning, bitter laugh): Yeah, well, thanks for considering human sacrifice, I guess.
(Ronaldo flinches, then nods slightly.)
RONALDO: I know. Like I said, it was stupid. I just… I panicked, man. I thought I was doing the right thing.
LARS: Oh yeah, because it's one of the good old horror movie rules, right? You almost killed me!
RONALDO: I know! (beat, voice trembling) And it kills me that I even thought that way.
(There’s a long silence. The two just stand there, staring each other down—hurt, exhausted, but slowly softening.)
RONALDO: I’m sorry, Lars. I really am.
(Lars looks away, jaw tightening. Then, finally, his shoulders sag a little.)
LARS: Yeah… well… I guess it’s kinda what I get for being a jerk all the time. (And it was actually a little bit reasonable considering the circumstances.)
RONALDO: Wait… so you’re not mad at me?
LARS: Oh, I’m still kind of mad. Don’t get me wrong.
(Ronaldo hesitates, then steps forward and wraps Lars in a big, sudden bear hug.)
LARS (struggling): Whoa, dude—hey—what are you—
RONALDO (pats his back gently): Shh. It’s okay.
(Lars squirms for a second, but eventually stops. He exhales shakily, then—hesitant at first—hugs Ronaldo back.)
LARS: …You really scared me back there.
RONALDO: Yeah, I scared myself too.
(They pull apart slightly, Ronaldo’s big hand still on Lars’ shoulder. There’s a small, sad smile between them.)
LARS: Thanks for at least trying to save Sadie… for me.
RONALDO (chuckles): It wasn’t exactly for you.
LARS (scoffs): What, you like her, don’t you?
RONALDO (shocked): No, I—well, yeah, but in a friendly way! (to himself, muttering) It’s not often I meet someone who shares my interests…
LARS: Sure, sure...
RONALDO (suddenly defensive, pointing dramatically): And besides… the one with the crush… is YOU!
(Lars blushes but bursts out laughing despite himself. Ronaldo stands there, all serious and red-faced, which only makes Lars laugh harder.)
LARS: You’re such a dork.
RONALDO: Takes one to know one.
LARS (hesitant, looking down at his hands): …Hey, uh. Can I ask you something?
RONALDO (still picking at a flashlight he’s half-repairing): Sure thing, bro. Hit me.
LARS (pauses, frowning slightly): …How?
RONALDO (glances up, blinking): How what?
LARS: How do you do it?
(Ronaldo tilts his head, confused.)
LARS: I mean… it’s not easy for me to not feel like garbage about what people think of me. (half laughs, rubbing the back of his neck) You’re always out there, yelling, blogging, saying wild stuff, dressing how you want, acting how you want. You don’t seem to care what anyone thinks. How do you just… not care?
(Ronaldo looks at him for a long moment, then softly smiles.)
RONALDO: Buddy… (chuckles faintly) You think I don’t care?
(Lars looks up, surprised.)
RONALDO: You’re not the only one who’s insecure. (Lars blinks, quiet now.) Yeah, man. I mean… look at me. I talk about aliens, conspiracies, sneeple— (grins to himself) People think I’m nuts. (his grin fades slowly) Sometimes… having no friends actually does feel kinda lonely. (voice softens) You start thinking maybe everyone’s right. Maybe you really are just the weird guy who doesn’t fit anywhere.
(Lars looks at him and sees how tired he looks under the jokes.)
RONALDO: But I dunno. After a while, I just figured… If I’m gonna be weird, then I might as well love being weird. I search for the weird, I act weird… It’s like, my whole thing. (He laughs lightly, but there’s warmth under it.) And maybe that’s how I stay okay. ‘Cause if I’m laughing about it first, it can’t hurt as bad when someone else does.
(Lars stares ahead for a moment, processing that. He gives a short laugh through his nose.)
LARS: Heh. Guess we’re both social napalms, huh?
RONALDO (grinning now, perking up slightly): Hey, at least I still have friends where it counts—the internet!
LARS (snorts): You mean the four followers on your blog?
RONALDO (correcting proudly, pointing a finger in mock offense): Two. I have two followers. And one of them is Peedee.
(Lars just laughs, shaking his head. The tension between them eases.)
LARS: Man, you’re unbelievable.
RONALDO: I’ve been called worse!
(They both laugh. Then there’s a small pause — the quiet kind that’s comfortable.)
LARS: …You’re a lot tougher than you look, you know that?
RONALDO (shrugs): Maybe. Or maybe I’m just really good at pretending. (He gives a faint, crooked smile.) But hey, I’ll take “tough.” Sounds cooler.
(Lars chuckles. Then, after a moment, he nudges Ronaldo’s arm lightly.)
LARS: You’re not as alone as you think, man.
(Ronaldo blinks, then smiles at him — genuinely, eyes shining a bit.)
RONALDO: Yeah… same goes for you, dude.
(They sit in silence for a bit. Then Ronaldo eventually leans over and gives Lars a one-armed hug, pulling him in slightly.)
RONALDO: Thanks for sticking around.
LARS: (smiles faintly, voice quiet) Yeah. You too, big guy.
Have a Happy Halloweeen in case I'm not back here by then, everyone!