writing bloopers

This is what my two characters were talking to each other about, as the hours drew late, and I decided none of it was appropriate for school. April is a twentysomething actress, and Ueda is a saxophone player. She’s going through heartbreak and he’s just…there.

Ueda shook his head, mirthful tears coming out.
“Look at us. Two perfectly attractive and normal people in society and we’ve got to turn to prostitutes to get by? It doesn’t make sense.”

“How did you think of that speech? You don’t have a cat named Patricia.”

“If I had one, I would call her Patricia,” April shrugged. “It comes with the territory, I guess. Once you start making up stories, it gets hard to stop.”
“But still, Patricia?”
“It’s for Patricia Neal. She played–”
“Dominique Francon in the Fountainhead,” Ueda waved his hand dismissively.

“Why are we such fuck-ups?”

“Ask Buddha.”
“Problem is, I don’t know if I’d get an answer,” she joked.

“There’s just one thing I wouldn’t be able to endure,” she said, leaning into the couch and stretching her bare feet. “You’ll laugh if you know what it is…but…”
Ueda gave her an encouraging grunt.
“If he and her attend the Valentine Day’s masquerade together. I wouldn’t be able to spot my father in that sort of masked crowd–but I’d know her locks and his build anywhere. It’ll be the only thing I can see.”
Ueda snickered. “Looks like your problems are mighty tough, Wongy.”

“But you know how you can’t break a man’s spirit through force and totalitarian rule? I fear it’s the same with me, and that unwanted feelings are still clinging to me, unwilling to let go.“
Ueda grunted.
"Did he trap me or did I trap myself? At any rate, I can’t conceive of–” she faltered, and then took another swig.
Silence fell between the two. Ueda, nine years her senior, sat back in the couch and drank, his eyes absorbed by a far off point in the future.
April took a breath. “I can’t conceive of loving anyone else.” She looked pleadingly at Ueda. “Wade, how do you stand it? The sleepless nights, the unending solitude…”
She trailed off. “I’m being stupid, I know.”
Ueda shook his head. “You’re not. It’s a real concern.”
His lips curved. “Although I doubt my solution would suit you.”
April laughed. “You simply must tell me now.”
“Fine,” Ueda finished his drink and casually set the glass down. “I pay a woman 200 and she takes care of the business for me.”
“And you don’t even have to bother with drinks!” April exclaimed. “Thanks for sharing that bit of genius with me.”
He shrugged his shoulders. “Told you it wouldn’t suit you.”
“You’re right. What I really need is a high-end male escort…what?”


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