Getting in the black, by the numbers

Getting in the black, by the numbers

Exercises to help you determine how to get back on track.

J.R.: Where are you going then?
KAREN: Somewhere else.
J.R.: And us? And me?
KAREN: Nothing has changed. I just need to get out of this place and away from this for now. We’re fine. Call me when you’re done.
J.R.: This isn’t like I’m watching a movie or going to the gym, how can you put this all on me?
KAREN: I’m not. I know I’m just not helping though.
J.R. pretends to have reached an epiphany.
J.R.: Want a couple of drinks to calm down?
KAREN: I’m going babes.
J.R.: [angry] Do what you want.
He storms out of the room.

J.R. nurses a whiskey glass. He’s now on his fourth. A Playstation controller sits in his lap as he exhales, deeply staring at the screen.
Karen emerges, empty handed. Noticing Elmar she seizes up, fixated on him before forcing herself to make contact with J.R.
J.R.: All packed up?
KAREN: Yes, but no.
J.R.: Not now Karen, just get to your point.
KAREN: It’s not fair for me just to leave you like this.
J.R.: Cool. Whatever.
J.R. leans forward nonchalantly and turns to connect with Karen’s gaze.
J.R.: Want a drink?
KAREN: Just “cool”?

J.R.: Yes. I’m having whiskey, it’s good.
Karen puts her tongue to the roof of her mouth and rolls her eyes. She had expected more of a thankful response.
KAREN: I’ll get us both some more.
J.R.: [downing the remaining] Cool.
Karen grabs his glass and turns around, she can’t help but pay attention to Elmar. The mere sight of him steals her breath, paralyzing her movements.

She regains her composure and continues with speed to place the glass in the kitchen. She then heads to the bathroom.
Walking down the hallway, she hears the murmurs muffled by David through his gag and winces.
Karen and J.R. both lie passed out on the couch, exhausted and drunk. Hungover, J.R. wakes up, he carefully passes Karen trying to fight through the strong pain he’s enduring. Impossible to avoid, Elmar attracts his attention which for a few short seconds is unbearable.
With his head down, he reaches a semi-upright position, trudging towards the kitchen.

O.S. David lets out a large yell, muffled, but loud enough for J.R. to notice.
J.R.: Shit. Yeah. Great.
Gripping the wall, J.R. heads to the closet and opens the door.
David reacts again to the light, his face is reddened from the tears cried the previous night.

J.R.: Shit man, you must be hungry.
David nods, and grimaces.
J.R. turns, but while doing so, David’s repeated attempts at speech draw him back.
J.R.: If the gag is removed, no shouting right? I’ve got a headache right now…
David nods.
J.R. removes the gag.

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