Rachel meets Billy at a sidewalk cafe at an ungodly hour, his coat going over her shoulder before she even realizes he's walked up behind her. His palm fits over her bloody arm as he leans forward to whisper, "I see my brother's still crap at suturing." Billy guides them over to an empty table and orders two lattes in a single fluid motion.
"I thought I could stop worrying about you," Billy says, his voice taking on the gravitas of a much wearier man as he leans back against the ornate metal chair.
"No one told you to worry about me," she shrugs with a wince. The corner of his FBI badge grazes her side through the inside pocket of his coat, a reminder that this is more than an ordinary breakfast date between two people with a history. "We fucked once. That doesn't make you my keeper, Billy."
"Why are you getting mixed up in this shit again?" he asks, ignoring her obvious attempt at hurting him.
The waitress returns with their drinks. Rachel orders the most expensive scone on the menu to put her tax payer money to some use even though she's allergic to cranberries. Billy rolls his eyes and mouths child.
"This was a one-off so you can put away the cuffs, Agent Crudup," Rachel sighs once the waitress is out of sight.
"Rachel, if you were talking to Agent Crudup, you'd know it."
PINE INDUSTRIES SECURITY GUARD FOUND SLAIN IN BED-STUY.
NEW YORK (AP) -- Joaquin Phoenix, a formerly dishonorably discharged marine, was found slain in his Bedford-Stuyvesant studio apartment this morning after MTA officials called 911 to report a man seen getting into an empty 2 train at Nostrand Avenue covered in blood. According to witnesses, the suspect is a dark-haired bearded Caucasian male in his 40s last seen wearing a leather jacket and aviators.
Phoenix, 38, recently separated from wife Amy Adams and was said to be "trying to get his life back on track." Adams was not available for comment at this time.
"This is a fucking shit storm, Eric," Rachel shouts. "We don't kill people."
"Watts doesn't like loose ends," he says, eyes fixed to the television. The image of the smiling man on screen resembles nothing of the wild-eyed, grizzly lumberjack of a security guard they encountered two nights ago.
"Fuck Naomi. Fuck Naomi and fuck you for putting this on my conscience!" Rachel looks down at her trembling hand, her fingers colored with the phantom blood of a life needlessly cut short.
"I'm sorry," Eric replies. She pushes him away when he starts to reach for her, grabbing her purse from his couch instead and clutching it to her chest like a security blanket.
Rachel takes a shaky breath before looking up at him coolly. Without the slightest hint of uncertainty, she announces in an unwavering voice, "Lose my number, Eric," before walking out.
I was unprepared for anyone to write this, so thank you! You had me with the opening. It did so much to show what their relationship was and I'm really into Naomi as an unseen force of control over everything. And just gonna assume Pine Industries means Chris Pine is like Naomi Watts arch-nemesis or something.
"Watts doesn't like loose ends," he says, eyes fixed to the television. The image of the smiling man on screen resembles nothing of the wild-eyed, grizzly lumberjack of a security guard they encountered two nights ago.
I liked this moment because it suggested both a coldness and the incompetence displayed earlier from him. Like if he only knew how to count there would be no loose ends for him to be dismissive of.
The way you take ANY assortment of people and ANY scenario and craft it into such a fun and intriguing story slays me, dude. THIS IS NO DIFFERENT. I would watch this movie all the time! (I am OBSESSED with the breakfast "date" scene between Billy and Rachel, aughhhhhh).
In all seriousness tho I am going to echo Titi and say that I hope Pine Industries is run by Chris Pine because the idea of that is way too much hilarious for me to handle hahha.
I keep imagining Billy Crudup with the salt and pepper beard he had at Cannes going to breakfast dates with people like Weisz and Marion Cotillard in one of those classy spy trench coats and it's almost too attractive to handle.
Rachel meets Billy at a sidewalk cafe at an ungodly hour, his coat going over her shoulder before she even realizes he's walked up behind her. His palm fits over her bloody arm as he leans forward to whisper, "I see my brother's still crap at suturing." Billy guides them over to an empty table and orders two lattes in a single fluid motion.
"I thought I could stop worrying about you," Billy says, his voice taking on the gravitas of a much wearier man as he leans back against the ornate metal chair.
"No one told you to worry about me," she shrugs with a wince. The corner of his FBI badge grazes her side through the inside pocket of his coat, a reminder that this is more than an ordinary breakfast date between two people with a history. "We fucked once. That doesn't make you my keeper, Billy."
"Why are you getting mixed up in this shit again?" he asks, ignoring her obvious attempt at hurting him.
The waitress returns with their drinks. Rachel orders the most expensive scone on the menu to put her tax payer money to some use even though she's allergic to cranberries. Billy rolls his eyes and mouths child.
"This was a one-off so you can put away the cuffs, Agent Crudup," Rachel sighs once the waitress is out of sight.
"Rachel, if you were talking to Agent Crudup, you'd know it."
PINE INDUSTRIES SECURITY GUARD FOUND SLAIN IN BED-STUY.
NEW YORK (AP) -- Joaquin Phoenix, a formerly dishonorably discharged marine, was found slain in his Bedford-Stuyvesant studio apartment this morning after MTA officials called 911 to report a man seen getting into an empty 2 train at Nostrand Avenue covered in blood. According to witnesses, the suspect is a dark-haired bearded Caucasian male in his 40s last seen wearing a leather jacket and aviators.
Phoenix, 38, recently separated from wife Amy Adams and was said to be "trying to get his life back on track." Adams was not available for comment at this time.
"This is a fucking shit storm, Eric," Rachel shouts. "We don't kill people."
"Watts doesn't like loose ends," he says, eyes fixed to the television. The image of the smiling man on screen resembles nothing of the wild-eyed, grizzly lumberjack of a security guard they encountered two nights ago.
"Fuck Naomi. Fuck Naomi and fuck you for putting this on my conscience!" Rachel looks down at her trembling hand, her fingers colored with the phantom blood of a life needlessly cut short.
"I'm sorry," Eric replies. She pushes him away when he starts to reach for her, grabbing her purse from his couch instead and clutching it to her chest like a security blanket.
Rachel takes a shaky breath before looking up at him coolly. Without the slightest hint of uncertainty, she announces in an unwavering voice, "Lose my number, Eric," before walking out.
(fin.)
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"Watts doesn't like loose ends," he says, eyes fixed to the television. The image of the smiling man on screen resembles nothing of the wild-eyed, grizzly lumberjack of a security guard they encountered two nights ago.
I liked this moment because it suggested both a coldness and the incompetence displayed earlier from him. Like if he only knew how to count there would be no loose ends for him to be dismissive of.
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In all seriousness tho I am going to echo Titi and say that I hope Pine Industries is run by Chris Pine because the idea of that is way too much hilarious for me to handle hahha.
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