Scene 1

Girl marries man 15 years older than her straight of out high school to escape abusive family and regrets it almost immediately

***Characters in this scene***

Ivy Wilkerson

Description: 18. Newlywed. An over thinker, mature for her age yet doesn’t know how to take care of herself, yet insists on being independent. Somewhat irresponsible, yet engages in surprisingly tame behavior considering her background.  Cynical, bad social skills, goes on irrelevant tangents, yet endearing and has clear potential. Decent grades at school, yet no aspirations. Two close female friends. Psychological damage is evident. 

Benjamin (Ben) Maxfield

Description: 33. Also newlywed. Severe OCD that interferes with his daily interactions. Caring with good intentions, but doesn’t quite seem to understand Ivy, even though he tries. However, he clearly loves her. Combined with his fathers inheritance and being a manager at an Apple store, he lives comfortably at a Brooklyn apartment, although he tries to be secretive about it, due to the fact that most of his friends are poor and he tries to avoid provoking jealousy. He and his wife both have the tendency to blurt out odd and shocking things.

Female Neighbor (Offstage)

Description: Not much needs to be said about this woman and her spouse. Middle aged. Hates her husband. Anger issues.

Male Neighbor (Offstage)

Description: Middle aged to elderly. Married to pyscho woman. 

Setting: Medium to small apartment in Brooklyn in the year 2015. Their place isn't extravagant by any means, with the bare necessities but also clear that they're not in poverty. Cheesy 70s wallpaper decorates the interior. A few cliche photos of hackneyed motivational quotes line the walls as well. Think a minimalistic-ly drawn tree with the word “Hope” written over it in cursive. Random things in the room are a little worn down, for example, the sofa has a patch of duct tape on one cushion)

SCENE 1

(The couple walks into their apartment, lady first)

Ben: Aw c’mon, the movie wasn’t that bad. There has to be at least one positive thing you can say.

Ivy: I think with some therapy I might be able to recover from it. 

(She flops on the couch and throws her jacket on the floor. Ben sighs, picks it up, and hangs it somewhere)

Ben: You need to lower your standards.

Ivy: Well sorry I have taste.

Ben: Are you saying I have bad taste?

Ivy: No, I’m saying you have no taste.

(Offstage a semi loud crrreeeaaakkk is heard followed by footsteps)

Ben: Oh hey, the Goyer’s are home. Almost same time as us. Damn, our walls are crazy thin. I wonder if they can hear us as well as we can hear them. Ivy?

(She stares at the ceiling catatonically. Offstage a voice is heard.)  

Man: Hey honey, how ‘bout we have some fun tonight?

Woman: F**k off, I have a headache.

Man: You know sex is the best cure for a headache, right?

Woman: Nooo, an orgasm is the best cure for a headache!

Man: What the hell is that supposed to mean?!

Woman: YOU KNOW EXACTLY WHAT IT MEANS!

(Yelling over each other)

Ivy: Jesus, those two should be in a sitcom!

Ben: Or in custody.

(Offstage clashing, banging, and quarreling is heard)

Ben: Aaaaannnnddd they’re at it again.

Ivy: (Sits up, mildly concerned) Should we call the police?

Ben: No point, they don’t even come anymore.

Woman: IF YOU TAKE ONE STEP CLOSER I WILL CASTRATE YOU WITH MY BARE HANDS!

Ben: (Calmly, like this has happened a billion times before) Alright, I’m off to keep this man’s testicles in tact. 

(Ivy chuckles)

Ben: (While walking out the door) You know what I mean!

Ben: (Heard offstage) Alright, you guys, ther- (couple is bickering, not even realizing Ben is in the room) SON OF A- (his voice is drowned out by more intense clashing and banging)

(Loud door slamming, running down stairs noises)

Ben: (Flings the door open) How does that woman wipe her a*s with those nails? When was the last time she cut them? Aw crap, I think one of them broke off in my shirt! (Checks under it frantically). 

Ivy: (Walks across room to get a bandaid) Man, I think those two are starting to rub off on us. (Approaches Ben and places it on his forearm, he is panicked and still  searching for the nail, not even aware that his arm is bleeding. She struggles to pull it away from him to place the bandage on)

Ben: (Distracted, half-assing the conversation) Wuyddaya mean?

Ivy: I mean, we’ve picked up on their petty arguments.

Ben: (Stops, suddenly interested) I don’t follow.

Ivy: I mean, just five minutes ago we were arguing about that godawful movie, I insulted you and-

Ben: Wait, you consider that arguing? 

Ivy: Well…yeah.

Ben: Oh, I mean, well…really? I just thought we were teasing each other. Ya’ know, like, playfully. Harmless.

Ivy: Oh, I was worried you were taking my words the wrong way. I’m not being malicious when I say stuff like that y’know. Just…wouldn’t it be boring if I were just nice and pleasant to you all the time? If I only complimented you? Smiled at you? I hate that Doris Day bullshit. A healthy relationship, well in my eyes at least, we take those little flaws about our partner and milk them to no end. I’ll never stop teasing you about your lack of taste. I like the fact that you think crocs are an acceptable footwear. I mean I f*****g hate it, but it’s cute ya know? It why I married you. Your lameness is cute. If you didn’t have any flaws you’d be like Doris Day with a dick. Its like that episode of Friends where Monica and Chandler-

Ben: (Interrupting his lovely wife) Alright, alright, stop. (Pauses) …Oh s**t, I found the nail on the floor! Get the trash can! Get the trash can!

(Ivy sighs and walks across the room, almost in slow motion as if to torture him)

Ben: Ivy! Quick! Hurry! C’mon! (she tosses the trash can at his feet and sighs. Ben calms down instantly after he throws the nail in it)

Ben: (Deep breath then snaps out of it) Glad we’ve cleared that up. 

Ivy: (Still visibly upset) Yeah…still feeling kinda…what’s the word?

Ben: … Sad…?

Ivy: Yeah, that’s the one.

Ben: …Becaaussee…?

Ivy: How often to you hear those two?

Ben: Well I mean, I hear them upstairs everyday, but instances like that I’d say are about once a month. First time she’s drawn blood though. Gotta admit I'm a little proud of her. 

Ivy: You know they remind me of my parents.

Ben: Not surprising. You’ve told me about them.

Ivy: I’m worried we’re gonna turn out like them. Your neighbors, I mean, So technically my parents as well. I don’t know, almost seems inevitable. Don’t ask me for a rational explanation for me saying this because there isn’t one. It’s just a hunch. Some 4th dimensional voodoo bullshit. The spirits are calling out to me, Ben.

Ben: Jesus, Ivy.

Ivy: I was being facetious. But the concern still stands. (Circles around the couch once then sits down in the middle). Didn’t you tell me your neighbors are 15 years apart in age as well?

Ben: Something like that, yeah, give or take.

Ivy: Don’t you find that weird?

Ben: No, just a coincidence. In fact, I think its like, their only similarity to us.

Ivy: As far as we know. I don’t know. Maybe being in such different stages of life strained their marriage.

Ben: Or maybe the bad sex. They really need to soundproof their walls. (Ivy sighs and Ben approaches her from behind and rubs her shoulders) Listen, everything’s gonna be alright. A little self awareness goes a long way. I’m sure the Goyer’s have never even bothered to evaluate their relationship. Or themselves for that matter. Now I’m gonna go take a nap alright? Afterwords we’ll move your next few boxes in. Oh also, I found a blue one wedged underneath the carseat. Medium sized.

Ivy: Oh yeah! That must be where I packed all my panties. Had to turn this pair inside out.

 

END SCENE 1