INT. THE APPARTMENT -- NIGHT

               SHADOWS abound across the living room, the half-darkness
               seems to dance and play. 

               AROUND THE APPARTMENT

               Across the KITCHEN, through the vaulted LIVING ROOM, over the
               office BALCONY and into the bookshelf lined BEDROOM, the
               silence seems total, complete, present -- almost dead. Except
               for just a moment, just slightly heard, just there, are the
               scampering sounds of MOVEMENT... 



               INT. LIVING ROOM -- NIGHT

               A tall, freestanding HALOGEN LAMP cuts into the air. 

               OFF. 

               Suddenly, BLINDINGLY ON.

               The FRONT DOOR is carefully pushed open at that same moment.

               PRESS SMITH, (20's) enters cautiously. His clothes are
               careful, deliberately worn. He's a bit stiff overall, timid
               and wary. He wears heavy, black rimmed glasses -- hip, but
               unintentionally so. 

               He's followed by GRIFFIN LAKE, (20's), sharp, alert and
               alive. With his spiky hair, his big smile and his bright and
               sharp coat, he's much more with it. He brushes past Press,
               walks into the cavernous living room and drinks it all in.

                                   GRIFFIN
                         Nice pad. 

               He stares up at the CATHEDRAL CEILING.

                                   GRIFFIN
                         Wow. 

               He notices the BIG SCREEN TV.

                                   GRIFFIN
                         Nice. Almost as good as live.
                         Almost.

               They both just stand there.

                                   GRIFFIN
                         So.

                                   PRESS
                         So.
                             (beat)
                         Do you go home with guys often?

                                   GRIFFIN
                         Damn, you are direct.

                                   PRESS
                         I'm sorry. I'm new at this.

                                   GRIFFIN
                         No foul. I mean it's what this is
                         all about right? Loneliness? Lust?
                         And fucking. Lots of ass grabbing,
                         scalp pulling, pillow pounding,
                         friction fired fucking.

                                   PRESS
                         I guess.

                                   GRIFFIN
                         Could I get something to drink?

               Griffin undoes a button on his shirt. 

                                   GRIFFIN
                         It's a little hot in here.

               Press continues to STARE as Griff undoes another button.

                                   GRIFFIN
                         Drink? Kitchen? Cold beverage? Ice
                         cubes?

                                   PRESS
                         Right.

               Press hurries into the...



               INT. KITCHEN -- NIGHT

               In the dark, it seems as all of the CABINET DOORS are OPEN.
               With a click of the switch, the LIGHT streams on and all of
               the doors are now CLOSED. Press moves from cabinet to
               cabinet, looking.

               INTERCUT BETWEEN PRESS AND GRIFFIN



               INT. LIVING ROOM -- NIGHT

               Griff rummages around.

                                   GRIFFIN
                         I could tell you were... eager the
                         minute you walked into the bar. You
                         had that little glint, that bit of
                         pent up need, like a Fleet Week
                         sailor, ashore after a six month
                         cruise, ready to date anything
                         other than his five fingers.

               FROM A CABINET LOOKING OUT, Press looks IN for a drink. He
               seems to make eye contact with something...

               Griffin looks over the bar and into the kitchen:

                                   GRIFFIN
                         No, something cold. From the
                         refrigerator?

               At the REFRIGERATOR, Press pauses. Opens the door. 

                                   PRESS
                         What do you imbibe?

                                   GRIFFIN
                         At this hour? Only alcohol.

               Pulls BEERS out. Press hands one to Griffin. Their HANDS
               MEET. 

                                   GRIFFIN
                         I'll do yours if you'll do mine.

               Griffin reaches over and under Press' arm, pops the top on
               the bottle then does his own.  They both drink, keeping their
               eyes longingly on the other.

               Griffin breaks the gaze and races up the STAIRS to the LOFT. 

                                   GRIFFIN
                         Where's the bedroom?

                                   PRESS
                         It's--

               Griffin races up the stairs.

                                   PRESS
                         -- not there.



               INT. LOFT -- NIGHT

               Griffin perches against the top railing, raises his arms out
               to either side.

                                   GRIFFIN
                         "I'm Queen of the World."

               Press doesn't respond.

                                   GRIFFIN
                         Yeah, I didn't believe it either.

               Goes back DOWN.



               INT. LIVING ROOM -- NIGHT

               Griffin leans in to kiss, but at the last minute backs off,
               pulling a a vial of METH from his pocket. He dumps a little
               onto his hand.

                                   GRIFFIN
                         Bump?

               SNORTS it up.

                                   GRIFFIN
                         Boobah-doobah. Good stuff.
                             (to Press)
                         Are you sure you don't want any?

                                   PRESS
                         Maybe this wasn't a good idea. I'm
                         just not...

               Griffin touches Press on the arm.

                                   GRIFFIN
                         Hey, I do like you. You're alone.
                         I'm alone. Together we aren't. I
                         like that more.

                                   PRESS
                         I watch a lot, but I keep to
                         myself. I've never really done this
                         before. Any of it.

                                   GRIFFIN
                         Are you saying I'm your first?

               Press nods.

                                   PRESS
                         I'll be gentle. 

               Both laugh. Press scratches at his clothes.

                                   GRIFFIN
                         Rash?

                                   PRESS
                         No. Not used to this.

                                   GRIFFIN
                         Shirt?

                                   PRESS
                         Clothes.

               Griffin laughs. 

                                   GRIFFIN
                         You aren't as innocent as you
                         appear.
                             (beat)
                         So are you more comfortable like
                         this?

               Griffin undoes the rest of the buttons on his shirt. It hangs
               open.

                                   GRIFFIN
                         Or like this?

               Griffin throws his shirt on the ground. 

               Press unbuttons and removes his shirt.

                                   GRIFFIN
                         You catch on quick.

                                   PRESS
                         I've watched.

               Press starts to unbutton his pants.

                                   GRIFFIN
                         Let's take this into the bedroom.

               Griffin heads for the DARKENED hallway. Press looks
               horrified. 

                                   PRESS
                         Wait!

               He RACES close and clicks ON the hall LIGHT before Griffin
               makes it very far.

                                   GRIFFIN
                         Thanks.

               Griffin walks into the...



               INT. BEDROOM -- NIGHT

               ...comfortable, lit bedroom. The bed is pushed far from the
               OPEN closet. There are STREAKS on the floor, visible signs
               that the bed was pushed away from the closet in a hurry. 

               Griffin DIVES onto the bed. 

                                   GRIFFIN
                         Now I know why it's all the way
                         over here. 

               He jumps up and down for effect. It bangs against the wall.

                                   GRIFFIN
                         You want to join me or are we going
                         to make this really, really,
                         really, safe sex?

               Press sits on the edge of the bed.

                                   GRIFFIN
                         I know what we need. How does
                         this..oh, I get it.

               The lamp is a touch lamp. He taps the base of it and the
               light steps down from bright to not so bright to dim to--

                                   PRESS
                         Don't!

               Press stops him from pressing it one more time.

                                   GRIFFIN
                         The hall light is still on, if you
                         don't like doing it in the dark. 

                                   PRESS
                         Right.

               There is an awkward pause for a moment as the two eye each
               other.

                                   GRIFFIN
                         Anytime you want. I don't bite--

               Press pounces like a starving man at a banquet table. After a
               moment of vigorous kissing and base-running, Griffin stops
               him.

                                   GRIFFIN
                         Slow up for a second.

                                   PRESS
                         I'm sorry. I'm sorry.

                                   GRIFFIN
                         Nah. It's just that I'm funny about
                         something: closets.

               Griffin gets up and CLOSES the closet door.

                                   GRIFFIN
                         Since I was a kid I hated having
                         the closet door open.
                             (thinks)
                         Monsters and all. Bahhahahaha.
                             (beat)
                         Where was I? Oh yeah. 

               Griffin's pants fall to the floor. 

                                   GRIFFIN
                         Here we go now.

               He dives for the bed.

               THE CLOSET 

               door slowly drifts open...

               Looking OUT FROM WITHIN IT, Griffin and Press are seen
               starting to make love.

                                                           DISSOLVE TO:

               AFTER...

               Press snuggles close to Griffin.

                                   GRIFFIN
                         I had lots of stars on my ceiling,
                         growing up.

                                   PRESS
                         Stars? 

                                   GRIFFIN
                         Plastic glow-in-the-dark ones. My
                         parents thought I was deprived,
                         living in the city. Tacky
                         alternative, I know, but my mom
                         loved Walmart. Given my closet
                         fears, I think they also did it so
                         the glow would scare away the
                         monsters living under the bed.

                                   PRESS
                         Monsters don't live under the bed.

                                   GRIFFIN
                         You and I know that now, but at age
                         six? Anyway, the stars were up
                         there for seven or eight years,
                         right? Then came the first time I
                         got stoned, which was also the
                         first time I got laid -- see how
                         this connects? -- and... well,
                         somehow I managed to rearrange
                         those stars to say "I fucked the
                         glorious Alex Christ." That glow
                         got me through the horrors of my
                         teen years, let me tell you. 

               Press cries.

                                   GRIFFIN
                         My story isn't that bad, is it?

                                   PRESS
                         No. I'm just... being stupid. 

               Press kisses Griffin aggressively, seeking more.

                                   GRIFFIN
                         Woah, tiger. I gotta take a wiz. 

               He taps the lamp. It GOES OUT. 

               For just a second, there is a RUSHING, SCUTTLING sound.
               Griffin TAPS IT AGAIN and the room is lit up. 

                                   PRESS
                         No. Stay.

                                   GRIFFIN
                         Be brave. I'll be right back.

               Griffin walks past the OPEN closet door and he SHUTS IT
               again.

               Press stares at the door -- HARD.

                                                                CUT TO:



               INT. BATHROOM -- NIGHT

               Griffin FLUSHES and walks back into...



               INT. BEDROOM -- NIGHT

               Press sits on the OTHER SIDE of the bed, back to the closet
               door. 

                                   GRIFFIN
                         Flattering, but I like your face
                         better.

                                   PRESS
                         You'll be gone soon. I don't want
                         you to go.

               Griffin walks up to the bed, the CLOSED CLOSET DOOR behind
               him.

                                   GRIFFIN
                         My boyfriend isn't home for another
                         three hours. That's more than
                         enough time--

               He strokes Press' back.

                                   PRESS
                         I got tired of watching, of looking
                         out at bodies dancing "gloriously"
                         in the dark. I wanted to know what
                         it felt like. 

                                   GRIFFIN
                         Yeah and now you know, thanks to
                         me.

                                   PRESS
                         I am brave. They aren't.

               The lamp, on its own, without being touched, steps DOWN a
               setting, darkening the room.

                                   GRIFFIN
                         I think you've got a short, Press.

               From behind, the closet door starts to slowly slide open.

                                   PRESS
                         I made a deal. I got to leave, to
                         come out here. In exchange, all I
                         had to do was... We like balance,
                         see? Light - dark. Day - night.
                         Come out -- go in. Even-Stevens, as
                         you say.

               The lamp steps down another notch. The door continues to
               open, unnoticed. 

                                   GRIFFIN
                         Did you take something while I-- ? 

               The lamp DIES all together. The closet door stands open, the
               Dark inside stark and apparent.

               And then the Dark MOVES...

                                   PRESS
                         I really hoped they wouldn't... I
                         tried talking them out of it... but
                         a deal is a deal.

               Griffin FEELS something HOT on the back of his neck.

                                   GRIFFIN
                         Who did you... who did you make a
                         deal with?

                                   PRESS
                         The other monsters.
                             (beat)
                         Sometimes in order for one thing to
                         come out, another has to go in --
                         Whether it wants to or not.

               Griffin tries to turn around. With a ROAR, the Dark reaches
               out and CONSUMES him. SCREAMING, he's DRAGGED into closet,
               the door SLAMMING SHUT, his voice falling away.  

               Dead quiet.

               Satisfied, the closet door drifts open again.

               Press, his head heavy in his hands, slowly raises his face
               back up. The DARKNESS now visible in his own EYES, stares out
               into the lonely room.

                                                         FADE TO BLACK.