LUKE'S APARTMENT - SATURDAY MORNING
LUKE lives in a one-bedroom apartment. There's a couch, kitchen table and chairs, a television, CD player etc. It has a look of being run down in recent months. There is a photo on the wall or in a frame on a sideboard of LUKE and an attractive young woman. She has no make up, hair simple, and they're both windswept and happy looking. There are a few magazines hanging around, and a couple of other photos of LUKE with his parents, or mates. LUKE is sprawled on the couch, unshaven, in his PJ's, doing the crossword in the newspaper - the rest of which is spread out everywhere. He's idly whistling along with the radio. He's got his morning cup of coffee and toast with honey, and has a tea towel, which he uses to wipe his fingers and mouth with, slung casually over one shoulder for convenience. There's a knock at the door. LUKE: (yelling) Yo! HELENA: (O/S) Luke? He immediately recognises the voice. He freezes. Turns off the radio. LUKE: (under his breath) Shit. HELENA: (O/S) Luke? It's Helena. He's everything all at once - excited, unsure, hopeful - angry. She knocks again, lightly. LUKE quickly folds the newspaper and stuffs it under the couch. He picks up his toast plate to take to the kitchen and realises he's in his PJ's. HELENA: (O/S) I know you're probably in your PJ's, and have your coffee, and toast, and Saturday morning newspaper spread out everywhere. He is sprung. HELENA: (O/S) 12-Across ... Four Letters ... thing you open to let friends into your apartment. LUKE: (nervously) Yeah, wait a minute. Just gotta hide last night's harem. HELENA laughs. LUKE goes to the door, wipes his hands on his PJ's, and opens the door.The young woman waiting there is the same one from the photo, but she looks completely transformed. She's in expensive clothes, her hair is dyed, she is wearing heaps of make up and large, dark glasses. It's obvious they have a history, and the tension is that of ex-lovers who haven't seen each other for some time. LUKE: Hello, Helen. HELENA: Hi. You gonna ask me in? LUKE: Come to collect your belongings? He stands back to let her in. He looks behind her before he closes the door. LUKE: What, no entourage? HELENA: Of course not. He doesn't believe her. HELENA: Well, my manager and publicist are waiting downstairs but, they're friends, Luke, it's not an entourage. LUKE: An entourage a deux. HELENA: Oh my manager brought along a bodyguard, but that's just because I'm on my way to a personal appearance. LUKE: Ah - entourage a trois! More your style. (Beat) Do you wanna sit down? Coffee? HELENA: No, I can't stay long. LUKE: Gee, what a surprise. Actually I'm shocked that you're here at all, Helen. HELENA: I was in the neighbourhood so I thought I'd see how you were doing. LUKE: Funny that, cos you haven't been in this neighbourhood in about twelve months, ten weeks, eight days, six hours and (looks at his wrist) forty-two minutes. But who's counting. So, what do you want? Your toothbrush? HELENA: (sweetly) I told you - I wanted to see how you are. LUKE: Well, as you can see, I am just fine. Same old Luke. Nothing changes around here. HELENA: I've missed Same Old Luke. LUKE hopes in his heart this is true. LUKE: So - how have you been? HELENA: Yeah, good. Tired, you know. It's really hard work. Long days on set, then there's publicity and guest appearances and stuff. LUKE: Must be hell. Especially carrying home those heavy pay cheques they force on you. HELENA: Don't be like that. LUKE: Like what, Helen?
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