Bang - Scene 4

Scene Four

Vinnie is, once again, in Ste’s room, trying to make himself comfortable on a beanbag chair. He is in a sharp suit which looks off and uncomfortable on someone so used to band tshirts and slacks. He is fidgeting, creasing, straightening and pulling at every part of himself. Enter Ste. There is a tense moment in which they regard one other, Ste unsure whether to explode at the intrusion or laugh at Vinnie’s attire.

VINNIE: Alright.

Ste chooses to laugh

STE: How d’you keep getting in here man?

VINNIE: Your ma, man. How else?

STE: Don’t you have your own gaff to piss around in? I can’t be here to entertain you twenty four seven.

VINNIE: Ste I was only just "

STE: Hanging around my room like a bad smell. As usual.

VINNIE: Someone’s on the rag tonight.

STE: F**k off Vin.

VINNIE: Fine, fine. I’ll be right here when you need me.

STE: What’s with the monkeysuit man?

VINNIE: (shrugs) Court s**t.

STE: (feigns indifference) Your da’s out of the Joy then?

VINNIE: Guess so. Asked for another appeal.

STE: How many’s that now?

VINNIE: Six. That I can remember.

STE: What’d he ask for?

VINNIE: Partial custody and visitation rights. Mam contested again, judge said his record deemed him a completely unfit parental figure.

STE: B*****d.

VINNIE: He’s a f****n scumbag Stevie!

STE: That what your mammy told ya is it?

VINNIE: Look man I "

STE: The f**k does she know? What’s she, Mother Theresa? Her only son spending his time f*****g around here all day every day, you might as well be my f****n’ brother!

VINNIE: Watch your mouth man or "

STE: Or what?

VINNIE: (visibly, almost pitifully, upset) Just... Just leave my ma out of it.

STE: Alright. (pause) How long has he been out?

VINNIE: No idea.

STE: Sure, sure. He’d normally write me, you know. Sends me stuff the odd time. Contraband, bitta stash, whatever he’s got lying around, you know? For me to have.

VINNIE: For you to hide, more like.

STE: What has he sent you man?

VINNIE: Since when is it a competition? You want a dad man, you can have him.

STE: You ungrateful, spiteful, stupid...

VINNIE: He’s not your da, man! The f**k do you care?

Ste loses is last ounce of restraint and lunges for Vinnie. He pulls his hair fiercly and studies his eyes intently.

STE: What colour are your eyes?

VINNIE: Man you’re hurting me!

STE: What colour?

VINNIE: Green!

He drops him in a smooth movement of hurt and disappointment, as though all the energy has been suddenly ripped from his body. Vinnie scrambles away, clutching his head in pain. Ste is clutching a lump of his hair. He regards it for a moment, then pulls out a clump of his own and compares them.

STE: You think there’s any difference?

VINNIE: What?

STE: Look at these. Could you even tell which one is yours? Could you even recognise what separates you from me? DNA... That’s all it is. Tiny, insignificant, unimportant little molecules...

He begins mixing the two clumps of hair together in his trembling hands.

STE: It’s exactly the same... Exactly the same.

(OFF) STE’S MAM: Dinner!

VINNIE: Come on man.

STE’S MAM: Dinner!

Exit Vinnie. Blackout.