[Instead of returning to his car, Oscar headed in the opposite direction, walking straight into Noah’s front room without knocking; only the sudden clang of the door closing behind him and Aspen’s curious tone brought him back to reality]
Aspen: Oh-.. hey!
Oscar: Sorry, I didn’t really think before just.. walking in.
Aspen: It’s no problem, is everything okay?
Oscar: Eh.
Aspen: Do you want a brew? I’ll wake Noah.
Oscar: Nah, I’ll leave you-…
Alma: No, you won’t! Sit down.
Aspen: Oscar’s here.
Noah: Mmh?
Alma: What’s on your mind?
Oscar: I don’t even know.
Noah: [yawns] Sorry, I’m beat.. what’s going on?
Oscar: Do you remember back when I was at uni, after I’d ghosted everyone? You forced yourself into my dorm-.. asked if I was okay. Why didn’t I just say no? Maybe things would have been different, if I knew-.. how did I manage to waste a decade of my life?
Alma: It’s a journey, not a waste.
Oscar: [scoffs] What a journey, I’m a broke alcoholic with a fiancé n’ a kid I can’t even support. I could’ve had a good job and-…
Noah: You can still get there; it doesn’t matter if you’re a little bit behind where you’d like to be.
Alma: He makes the most sense when he’s half asleep, I swear.
Noah: Thanks.
Alma: You might’ve deviated from your preferred path, but think how much good it did! You can’t fight fate.
Oscar: You sound like Courtney.
Alma: Uh-huh, ‘cause she’s smart; like me.
Oscar: True.. but it doesn’t make me feel any better.
Noah: What’s brought all this on? Did something happen?
Oscar: I spoke to Norma, one of the feds who took over the case; told her how we ended up here… She was.. nice? I think it would’ve been easier if she wasn’t.
Noah: Hopefully she’s competent too.
Oscar: Yeah, I hope they finish what we started; otherwise, what was the point? It feels like I barely scratched the surface.
Noah: Don’t lose yourself to that mindset, you can only do so much.
Aspen: Maybe uncle Oscar should become a cop.
Oscar: I’ve had enough.
Alma: Well.. don’t get stuck in the past, sweet stuff; you’ve a lot to be proud of, and a lot to be thankful for.
Noah: She never calls me sweet stuff.
Alma: [laughs] It hardly suits you!
Noah: Fair point.
Alma: C’mon, where are Courtney and little Robin? I’ll pick them up, we’ll have dinner.
Aspen: Ooh, babies first barbeque! I bought a new grill-.. Noah’s forbidden from using it though, so you can help me.
Noah: Tch, ingrates. Who doesn’t like a cremated burger?
Oscar: [snorts] At least I can cook, I guess…
Courtney: You don’t think he sleeps too much?
Oscar: Nah.
Courtney: I thought he’d cry more.
Oscar: He’s happy; and sleepy.
Courtney: He’s so sweet, I wanna squeal every time I look at him.
Oscar: [laughs] Do it, I doubt he’d wake up.
[DOORBELL]
Courtney: Who’s that? It’s early…
Oscar: Dunno.. clearly not family, they’d just walk in.
…
[DISTANT CHATTER]
?: Would you say they lived a rather lavish lifestyle?
Oscar: With that much money, who wouldn’t?
?: I understand you recently spent some time in a rehab facility?
Oscar: That’s a bit personal, ain’t it?
?: Should I assume the drugs came from them?
Oscar: I doubt it’s your job to assume things.
?: I know he paid for your treatment, it must have been expensive; why would he do that? Guilt?
Courtney: It was for alcoholism; you can buy liquor anywhere.
?: Ah, hello-.. that’s very true.
Courtney: Why are you asking these questions?
?: I’m just trying to paint a picture; one last thing, do you know where I might find a Miya Foster? Or Marco Rios?
Oscar: No idea.
?: Right, well.. I’ll see myself out, and thank you for your time.
Oscar: No worries.
?: Congratulations, by the way. Shame about the hair though-.. aha! I’m kidding, I’m kidding.. my wife’s a redhead!
Oscar: ..Bye.
[DOOR CLOSES]
Courtney: Asshole.
Oscar: [sighs] Better get used to that, buddy.
Courtney: Really? No one ever gives you grief for being ginger.
Oscar: Because they quickly realise, I don’t give a shit; people get bored easily.
Courtney: Hm… Either way, I don’t like whatever that was.
Oscar: I said about as much as I’m gonna.
Courtney: Hopefully that’s it.
Oscar: Geez, I should check my phone more oft-.. oh shit, Ivan finally woke up! I need to go n’ see him.
Courtney: Awh, take Robin with you!
Oscar: You gonna be okay on your own? You should come-…
Courtney: I’m still crampy.. and I need to be on my own at some point, don’t I? I could always see what Tilda’s up to.
Oscar: Yeah, do that.
Courtney: Imagine how happy Bruno must be; poor guy, he’s lost enough.
Alton: Are you alright?
Oscar: [sniffs] It’s not a big deal…
Alton: Do you want some help cleaning up?
Oscar: Where’s mom?
Alton: She’s working tonight.
Oscar: She’s gonna hate me again.
Alton: Nobody’s ever hated you, son.
Oscar: Why can I never resist fucking up?
Alton: There’s bound to be a few bumps in the roa-…
Oscar: They’re fucking potholes!
Alton: You’re going to wake Court-…
Oscar: [wails] Oh my godddd~ Courtney!
Alton: Shh!
Oscar: She deserves so much more than this.
Alton: Oscar-…
Oscar: [sobs] My Cookie.
Courtney: That’s me…
Oscar: Oh dear.
Alton: You can go back to bed if-…
Courtney: It’s fine.
Alton: Alright, shout me if you need anything.
…
Courtney: Do you still feel sick?
Oscar: I think I’m good.
Courtney: Let’s get you in the tub.
Oscar: I’m sorry, you shouldn’t have to be doing this.
Courtney: I don’t mind.
Oscar: [sighs] ‘Course you don’t…
Courtney: It went badly, I assume?
Oscar: Some guy got carried away with a crowbar is all, Charlie was okay; Aisha’s gonna help too. Everything was fine, until-…
Courtney: You don’t have to explain.
Oscar: I-I don’t know why I-…
Courtney: It’s not something that disappears after a few months, Oscy. I’m not mad, and I’m not going anywhere.. okay?
Oscar: Okay.
…
[PURRING]
Oscar: You’re gonna be such a good mom.
Courtney: I hope so.
Oscar: I know so-.. I wanna marry you so bad.
Courtney: [laughs] Well, I already knew that.
Oscar: Once it’s all over n’ we can enjoy it, yeah? Y’can be a proper Finch then-.. if you want.
Courtney: I do want.
Matilda: Why’re you hiding?
Tristen: [shrugs] I felt awkward.
Matilda: How come?
Tristen: I don’t really like parties these days.
Matilda: Oscar doesn’t always find it easy either, y’know-.. partying without getting wasted, I mean.
Tristen: I didn’t know you knew about that.
Matilda: Was it supposed to be a secret?
Tristen: Eh, people judge.
Matilda: Well.. you’re talking to me, and I’m literally the worst person in attendance.
Tristen: You seem nice enough.
Matilda: Ah, you clearly don’t know me well enough yet-.. c’mon, you’ll never learn how to enjoy yourself in here.
Tristen: [sighs] I guess.
Oscar: Merry Christmas, dickheads!
Bruno: [snorts] Same to you.
Ivan: Ugh-.. where’d y’get a croissant from?
Oscar: I made ‘em…
Ivan: You made ‘em?
Courtney: He should be a pastry chef.
Bruno: We should’ve brought a turkey.
Ivan: Turkey’s mingin’ anyway. They’re just nastier, drier chickens.
Bruno: [snickers] I thought you’d like ‘em, since they’re in the beige food category.
Courtney: What do you guys usually do for Christmas?
Bruno: Nothing special.
Ivan: Pretend it’s a normal day n’ wait for it t’be over.
Oscar: Why’ve you got such a bee in your bonnet about the holidays? I figured you’d like ‘em.
Courtney: Not everyone has fond memories of Christmas.
Ivan: Yeah, exactly.
Oscar: Dare I open that can of worms?
Ivan: Pa would get wankered, fall asleep n’ forget t’make dinner; so I’d sit n’ watch cartoons all day.. if he’d paid the bills. Hardly a solid escape plan though, ‘cause they’d all be happy Christmassy bullshit.
Courtney: The care home wasn’t much better; it was never not depressing, even the poor carers didn’t want to be there. I suppose I don’t mind the holidays nowadays, but it’s still hard to forget the shittier ones.
Ivan: I didn’t know y’grew up in care…
Courtney: Uh-huh. Fun times.
Bruno: Alright, the holiday hate makes a little more sense now.
Ivan: [sighs] It is what it is.
Oscar: Okay! Let’s just pretend it’s an average day, but with more fairy lights than usual, and croissants! Not a turkey in sight.
Bruno: Sounds good.
Ivan: I guess the pastries sorta make it tolerable.
Oscar: Every Christmas from now on will be better than the last.
Courtney: I believe you.
Oscar: I can’t wait for this time next year…
Courtney: Me neither-.. you’re about to lose your croissant.
Oscar: Meh, I’m feeling generous.
Courtney: You’re cute when you smile like that.
Ivan: [laughs] Alright, get a room.
Oscar: You two stole the only bedroom.
Courtney: Best we can do is a mezzanine.
Fran: I’m not-.. I figured I should sit with him is all, I don’t know where his friend went.
Bruno: How many has he had?
Fran: I-I’m not sure.
Bruno: Did he talk to Aisha at least?
Fran: He did, yeah; we’ll help, I promise.
Bruno: Remember-…
Fran: We don’t know who or how, right?
Bruno: Right.
Fran: Does he have a problem or something?
Bruno: [sighs] Yeah.
Fran: I’m sorry, I didn’t know…
Bruno: It’s okay, thanks for keeping an eye on him.
…
Ivan: We should’ve stayed with him.
Bruno: Let’s not blame ourselves.
Ivan: I thought he was doin’ okay, y’know?
Bruno: Shit happens.
Ivan: Why’d he do it though? I mean-…
Bruno: It’s fairly normal, Ivan; God knows I’ve had my fair share of relapses, he’ll be fine.
Oscar: Did you two happen t’forget I have ears?
Ivan: Sorry.
Bruno: You should come n’ stay at Mack’s with us tonight.
Oscar: I just wanna go home-.. but y’drove past it.
Ivan: Y’haven’t moved there yet, bud.
Oscar: [snorts] Oh, right.
Bruno: Are you sure-…
Oscar: Shh!
Ivan: Y’don’t wanna be goin’ home like this.
Bruno: It’s only one night.
Oscar: I don’t care! I promised no more secrets, this is-.. this counts.
Ivan: [sighs] Fair enough.
Mia: Has someone had one too many?
Ivan: I’m sober, actually.
Mia: [snorts] That’s what they all say, until the hangover hits.
Ivan: No, really. I don’t drink.
Mia: Ah, so you’re here to escape the daft part of the night… I usually leave at this point too, hence the sneaking out back.
Ivan: Not a drinker?
Mia: Nah, I see far too much shit for that. I don’t even think it should be legal, unpopular opinion I know.
Ivan: Hm.
Mia: What about you?
Ivan: Me n’ alcohol don’t mix well.
Mia: No?
Ivan: It feels as if I turn into my Pa; nasty n’ angry. I don’t wanna wind up a sad, bitter alcoholic like he did.
Mia: You don’t seem the type.
Ivan: Well, neither did he in the beginnin’.
Mia: I suppose it can change people.
Ivan: How’re you s’posed t’stop it though?
Mia: Uh-…
Ivan: If y’can see it happenin’ t’someone else right in front of you, what can y’even do?
Mia: I’m a paramedic, not a psychologist.
Ivan: Jesus, sorry. I don’t know why I just dumped all that shit on you-.. fuckin’ hell...
Mia: I reckon you could’ve done with a good chat over a night out.
Ivan: Trauma dumpin’ on a near stranger ain’t it… Sorry.
Mia: It’s all good.
Ivan: You weren’t lyin’ were you. Extensions?
Mia: Huh?
Ivan: You said y’change your hair a lot.
Mia: Changing the subject, are we?
Ivan: Yes please.
Mia: Alright. Hey, let me even out the oversharing for ya!
Ivan: Ohh…
Mia: Yeah, they’re wigs!
Ivan: That checks out.
Mia: I have this thing called trichotillomania; hair pulling, basically. It’s like an obsessive compulsion to yank my own hair out; even my eyelashes weren’t safe at one point. It’s much better nowadays, especially since I decided to start shaving my head.
Ivan: It suits ya! Sorry you’ve gotta deal with that though…
Mia: It’s just a part of who I am. We deal, right?
Ivan: I s’pose.
Mia: I think that’s enough secret spilling for one night, don’t you? I’ve got about six hours until work starts, yay.
Ivan: Ouch.
Mia: I hope you can work through whatever shit you’ve got going on.
Ivan: Is it that obvious?
Mia: Kinda, yeah.
Ivan: I need t’work on that… Guess I’ll see y’round.
Mia: Uh-huh.
