All language subtitles for Being Erica s01e04 The Secret of Now.eng

Previously on Being Erica...

I left Claire.

Oh my god.
Ethan, what happened?

- She was cheating on me.
- I mean, come on, I'm what?

I'm single and unemployed.
Not exactly a raging success.

I've never consired hiring someone as...

mature as yourself,
for a position like this.

Taking a risk is like, uh...

jumping off a cliff.
It's a leap...

into the unknown...

with absolutely no guarantees.

First day of a new job.

Kind of like a first date
with your new career.

Will it be love at first sight?

Or will it be...
"Thanks for dinner,

maybe I'll call you sometime."

Stakes are high, so,
no shortcuts are allowed.

Nothing less than perfection will do.

'Cause today could be the most
important day of your life.

It could be the day
when it all falls into place.

Or when it all falls to pieces.

Wow, look at you,
all dressed up for school.

So, um...

big day, huh?
First day at work.

I'm really excited, you know?
Despite the unintended skylight,

- I have a good feeling about today.
- Unintended skylight?

Don't ask. I have a good feeling because
I feel like I'm turning a page in my life,

which is weird because
my new job is in publishing.

And oh my god, I forgot to tell you,
that my new boss, Ambrose,

he asked to read my short stories.
Which is like, ahh!

Like it never happens, so...
Oh my god, am I still talking?

- Not anymore.
- I talk a lot when I'm nervous.

Yeah, I know this about you.

Of course.

I'm not just nervous because
it's my first day of work,

I'm nervous because of...

the thing.

- The thing?
- The thing that we did with our mouths.

It was nice... I thought.

Me too.

- So, what do we do?
- Um, I guess we talk?

- Like grown-ups?
- Over dinner. I'll cook.

Uh, you don't cook, you heat.

I know this about you.

- Listen, uh, knock 'em dead today.
- Thank you. Good.

No-no-no-no,
wait-wait, wait!

- Thanks, buddy.
- Wait!

- Loving the footwear.
- Oh, I know.

It's my first day of work
and my new heels snapped.

So, do I wait for a shoe store to
open and show up an hour late?

Or do I hit the local pharmacy and
pull out the old debit card and...

And hope your bosst hinks it's
enterprising and not desperate.

- I'm Julianne. This is Brent.
- Hey, nice to meet you.

I should probably go report to Ambrose.

About that...
Ambrose has "moved on"

to "other opportunities".

- I'm surprised.
- So was Ambrose.

He got replaced.

By the woman who edited
"The Secret of Now".

"The Secret of Now"?

Isn't that just a knock-off
of "The Secret"?

A knock-off of "The Secret"?

It's actually one of the best
selling self-help titles of the year.

Of course.

Um, I should probly go find my new boss.

She's right here, Erica.

Oh, I'm...
I'm just really sorry,

- I thought that you were...
- You thought:

"Here's this young babe,
she just has to be somebody's assistant."

"She couldn't possibly be the
new Editorial Director of non-fiction."

But I am.

And I didn't get here
because I look good in a skirt.

I earned it.

You want on my team?
You better do the same.

And the flip-flops?
Desperate.

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- So, you were Julianne's assistant?
- Yeah, for 16 months, 3 weeks, 2 days.

Not that I was counting.

When they promoted Julianne to Editorial
Director, she made me Junior Editor.

She fought for me.
Hard.

- Congratulations.
- Thanks, but I know her agenda.

Julianne's mantra is:
"Keep your enemies close and...

those who can get your job,
even closer."

See you at the department
meeting this afternoon, Frank.

I am sure that you'll have a
terrific slate of projects to show us.

We're gonna do great things, Frank.

- Was that Frank Galvin?
- Yes, the Frank Galvin.

- Owner and Editor-In-Chief.
- Oh, I know him.

I mean,
I know of his reputation.

River Rock has published some
important pieces of literature.

Well, important pieces of
literature don't move units.

Not anymore.

You know what does?

This.

We sold half a million copies
last year. You know why?

- This book helps people.
- Well, I'll be sure to read it.

Well, this copy is signed.
You have to buy your own.

Oh, right.

So...

You have two degrees in English lit?

You've never been an
Editorial Assistant before.

You never even worked in
publishing before. You're how old?

I'm 32.

Hunh. Because I'm 27.

I took my first proofreading
job right out of high school.

Look, I understand you have qualms.

Because people who have two degrees

in English lit and
use words like"qualms"

are usually literature snobs,
and I have no time for them.

I understand. And honestly,
I'm not some Ivory Tower English-lit snob.

Yeah, I beg to differ.

See... I read your short
collection of even shorter stories.

- Ambrose left it for me.
- How nice of him.

- They're very heavy.
- I wrote them in university and I...

- haven't had time for rewrites.
- You've had over ten years.

Look, well, if you're done with them,
I'd love to have them back.

Who said I was done?

Who knows, maybe I'll even
show these to Frank.

Brent!

Can you show Erica to the coffee lounge?

It's time to send her to school.

Brent? You've worked with
Julianne for a long time.

- How'd you do it without, um...
- going insane?

- Yeah.
- A lot of meditation.

Yoga, every morning.
Plus, I'm heavily medicated.

Hmm, out of her favourite
organic espresso beans.

What?

You could make her latte
with regular beans, your choice.

No, you point me to the nearest Starbucks.

I need to go buy organic
espresso beans, stat.

Ah! Score one for the newbie.
You passed the test. Good one.

No need for Starbucks,

I keep a spare bag of espresso
beans in my "emergency drawer".

Julianne goes... Hannibal
if you make her a latte with reg.

She gets this sexy little lip curl.

God, she can be so hot.

Whoa, okay, uh... speak of the devil.

Okay, she needs me.
I'll be right back.

Don't move.

Good morning.

What are you doing here?

This is a private office,
you can't just barge in here.

I did not barge,
I waltzed.

That security guard, Phil?

He is a sweet guy.

You need to go.

I am feeling anxious enough
to begin with, this isn't helping.

Oh. Feelings of anxiousness.

- Could you not do that?
- Taking notes is a part of my job.

Okay, speak to me.

- How else are you feeling?
- Um... frustrated.

I'm finally in a place
that I wanna be at and...

my boss is a "passive-aggressive bitch-face".

"Bitch-face".

Oh my god, I hate air quotes!
Who even does that?

You know that bumper
sticker "question authority"?

I think a better one for
you right now might be,

"Question your attitude towards authority".

- And what is that supposed to mean?
- Oh, you're a smart woman,

you'll "figure it out".
Oh, by the way,

I made myself a dopio espresso
and I finished the beans.

I hope that's okay.

Will you please leave?
Why don't you go say "hi"

to your good buddy, Phil, huh?
Tell him I said "hi", too.

- I'll go... for now.
- Who was that?

- I think he's from accounting.
- With those cheek bones?

Me no think so.

Teach me the ways
of the latte, Sensei.

Well said.

Thank you so much for coming in today.
Ambrose spoke so highly of you.

Ambrose and I, we go way back.

I was very sad to hear
about his departure, but...

I'm really hoping that you and I can
move forward with my book, Julianne.

- Oh, so do I, Marcus.
- Mark, please.

So, um... I've read your outline

and I hate to be such
a Debbie Downer, but

it really dwells in the past.

It's a memoir.

Have you heard of a little bestseller
called "The Secret of Now"?

Well, you have a framed
cover behind you.

Right, there it is.

Um, the author, Thomas Friedken,

friend of mine, he says
"Strive not to look behind,

but always to the present moment.

Look... to the now."

I wonder if you can bring any
of that wisdom to your memoir?

I'm not really sure if I follow you.

Perhaps, if I may,

what Julianne is saying is that we're
looking for projects with a self-help angle.

We need something for the millenials,
we need something that we can market

on social networking sites,
like facebook or myspace.

- Are you familiar with those?
- I've dropped in a few times.

Well, it was awesome
to meet you, Marcus.

Mark, please.

So, we're gonna kick your
outline around, "jam on it",

see what we can
come up with. Sound good?

Well, thank you for meeting with me.

Okay, Stahl's outline.
Read it, type up some notes.

We better look like we tried
to come up with something.

Sure, sure.

And I'm sending you back to
latte school. This was repulsive.

Ugh! His memoir's slow-going.

Except for this one
chapter that's riveting.

Well, you can't charge people
$29 hardcover for one chapter.

Unless you made more of it, like...

Whatever, I'm supposed to write notes,
not reinvent the wheel.

Well, Erica, if there's one thing
you do know, it's books, okay?

Don't hold back all your good ideas.
Unleash them!

Trust me, I've been doing
enough unleashing, lately.

I kissed Ethan.

I mean, I...
I really kissed him.

That is not the kind of bomb you drop
in the middle of a conversation!

I know. I'm sorry.

So...

after all these years,
you, you made out?

- Well, was it good?
- Very. But I mean...

- Menu?
- Thank you.

- That's not what it's about.
- Yeah, it is.

No, it isn't. I mean, dating
Ethan, it would be weird.

And complicated. I mean,
he just separated from his wife!

Just answer this one question.

Is Ethan the kind of guy that
you could see yourself with?

Yes.

No.

Maybe.
I don't know, I don't know.

That's something
you need to figure out.

The kiss...

- scale of one to ten?
- Ten...

thousand.

The board wants me to deliver a
bigger, better "Secret of Now".

This is not it.

I think we have to kill it.

We already gave Stahl
a healthy advance.

Ah, Ambrose did, not me.

Well, I'm open to suggestions.

I mean, if someone has a great idea on
how to salvage this project, I'm all ears.

Communications.

"E.T. phone home?"
I don't see how that applies.

Just... Stahl invented
the Banting 7204 satellite

which launched a revolution
in digital communications.

Yawn.
Uh, where's the "juice"?

Uh, he was a crack addict.

Wife, kids, a titan of business,
but there he was, night after night,

- smoking crack with gang members.
- Dark. I don't like it.

Oh, but he beat the addiction,
won his family back,

returned to the top of the
business world and I really feel like

there's a lot of "juice" in that.

But I'm... I'm just the assistant, so.

I don't know why they're
paying me all the money,

she's the one with all
the fab ideas!

What is your problem?

- Excuse me?
- What is your problem?!

I'm sorry, did I do
something wrong?

You just made me look like an
idiot in front of my whole team.

- I was trying to help.
- And I was trying to bury a book

- that I don't want.
- I'm...

stuttering idiot, apparently.

If you don't get it together, today's
gonna be your first and your last day.

FYI,
when I say, "make some notes",

that means bury it, temp.

- No, not again.
- Yes, again, and that's final.

Erica? Why don't you
take a break and join us?

Come, come, come, come.

- Here you go. Have a seat.
- So...

Like I sad, anyone up
for a little reading? Ah, good.

I have a stunning work of staggering genius,
straight from the slush file.

This is a ritual we used
to do at the other office.

Julianne reads from the worst
submissions. It's hilarious.

- And a little cruel.
- Relax, the author remains anonymous.

"The house is an abattoir."

"Smoke billows from
the chimney and up,

breaking apart the night sky."

"The trees sway in the wind

like the scratches
from a broken pen."

Oh, god, stop.
We're all gonna go to hell.

We're just getting started.
There's five short stories in all.

One for every day this week.

"The december yard is grey."

"The Morgan family sits inside."

"Mother's tears flow..."

I am older than her.

- Julianne, we need to talk.
- Uh, I need to prepare for a presentation.

You need to besome where else...

- and you're still here.
- I just need 60 seconds of your time.

You got 15.

- What?
- 13.

Tick-tock, tick-tock, tick-tock...

- Maybe we, uh...
- Use your words.

And your time's up.
Thanks for coming in.

Thirsty?

"You don't miss your water,
till your well runs dry."

- William Bell.
- Not thirsty. Not really.

When I get nervous,
my mouth, it just...

it just dries up like the Gobi Desert.

Cotton-mouth. The pasties.

Also known as "dough-mouth".

In medical terms,
we refer to it as xerostomia:

The rapid depletion of
moisture from the mouth.

It's triggered by anxiety.

Common side effect of
marijuana inhalation.

There's an idea. Maybe I should get
high for work, that might help?

I doubt it. I think Julianne would
seriously harsh your mellow.

- Sit. I insist.
- I should get back to work.

I don't think I need to
root around in my past

to figure out why a psychotic
boss makes me tongue-tied.

Would you say that you are someone
who is comfortable with confrontation?

- Who is?
- Now, your new boss...

a controlling, passive-aggressive,
downright cruel...

I mean, she is so good
at getting under your skin,

you actually lose
the power of speech.

Does that sound like
anyone you know?

My mother?

Lozar.

Tell me about him.

Antonin Lozar.

No!

Intense lecturer,
esteemed professor,

and the dread of every first
year creative writing student.

- Erica, are you paying attention?
- And for Ethan,

it was a bird course,
but for me?

It was life and death.
I mean, I loved poetry.

I was determined to impress him.

And I thought I wrote the poem
that was gonna win his respect:

"Snowflakes."

It was about the
uniqueness of every soul.

Have I been made
into this snowflake?

Lozar never cared for
anything that I wrote, but...

for "Snowflakes", he dug down
to a special place in his heart...

where true evil lurked.

- They, they slipped through...
- What?!

Soon I...
I felt suffocated.

Come on, come on.

I mean, I did what
anyone would do, right?

- You ran.
- Coward!

- You will never be a writer.
- And I never came back.

I failed the course.

Come to think of it...

I haven't written
anything creative since.

If I could do it over,
I would look Lozar in the eyes

and recite "Snowflakes".
Every single word.

- I'll see you on the other side.
- No, no, wait. I need prep-time.

I haven't read the
poem in, like, 15 years!

"We are postponing, life speeds by."

- Seneca, 5 B.C.
- No, seriously.

Stop with the cold, please.
No-no-no! Okay, just... hit pause!

Ethan, you are going to read to us.

Sorry, I think I, um,
had an allergic reaction.

Might wanna think about getting
some pollen filters in the venting.

- Yes, professor?
- Shut up.

Okay, Ethan, before we
were so rudely disturbed,

you were going to read us
from your new work.

- Okay, sure, uh...
- Come on, begin, please.

This is a poem I wrote called
"Your love is a drive-by".

Your love is a drive-by.

Your bullets go ping off
the body armor of my heart.

Ping! Ping! Ping!

Ping!

Ping-ping! Ping!

Ping! Ping-ping-ping!

All right, Ethan.

I said, that's enough!

Again you take us down with you

to the very sub-basement
of self-expression.

And for that, I thank you.

Um... you're,
you're welcome?

And you're...

shit.

Your poetry is shit.

Even your pen... shit!

Just sit down.
Erica Strange, you're next.

Uh... um, professor,
I just have a little problem.

So do I.

I have to endure another
one of your "poems".

You air quote too?

We are waiting, Erica, hmm?

I call this piece "Snowflakes".

Poetry is organic.

It lives when you speak it,
not when you read it!

Here are your snowflakes, Erica.

Itty, bitty,
tiny snowflakes.

Still, we wait.

I am crouched

on the axis of the sun

on the edge of my cloud...

Oh, give me something with passion.

Wombs, pregnant with thought

Oh, god, I wish to die!

Has this...

Am I... Oh god...
Have, have I made into this snowflake or...

Slush!

Sentimental, juvenile slush!

You hate me right now, huh?

You feel like you're being attacked?

Show me what you feel.

Come on, express your pain.
Express from within!

- My loneliness is killing me.
- Louder!

I must confess I still believe...

Believe in what?
Tell me!

When I'm not with you I lose my mind.

Give me a sign...

Hit me baby one more time!

Yes! Speak the voice of the victim!

The reason I breathe is you

You've got me blinded

There's nothing I wouldn't do

It's not the way I planned it

I must confess

My loneliness is killing me

Don't you know

I still believe

When I'm not with you I lose my mind

Give me a sign

Hit me baby one more time!

Passion! Drama! I love it!

And all just from
the top of your head?

Yeah. It's straight from there;
top of my head.

Who'd even think of writing
an ode to one's oppressor?

Genius! I love...
You're my little poetess!

Hey, I think you
should call your piece:

"Voice of Flame."

I was thinking of calling it, uh...

"Hit me baby one more time!"

No. "Voice of Flame."
Much better.

Hey, everybody!

You must come to the poetry slam.

Erica will be reciting her new work!

Oh, no-no-no-no-no. He's joking.
Professor, that's a one-time-only performance.

- Really.
- Nonsense!

You must share this with an audience!
Eh, I will insist on it!

Look, I'm just gonna come
right out and ask.

You just recited this weird poem
about this abusive guy.

- Do I have to kicksome body's ass?
- No, no-no-no-no-no. I made that up.

I am fine.
I just made it up.

Thanks for coming.

So... drinking in the afternoon?
That's so un-Toronto of you.

It's a celebration. Erica has been
reborn as the poetess of fire!

I'm so sad that he
snapped your lucky pen.

- Yeah, I guess he didn't like my sound effects.
- Well, I did.

- I thought they were evocative.
- So did I.

- Yeah. Pa-ping-ping.
- Shit. I'm out of cigarettes.

Ethan, baby, do you think...?

Yep. I'm on it.

- You're looking good.
- Thank you.

So, I hope you don't mind
me asking like this, but...

I mean, do you have
anyone special in your life?

You mean a boyfriend?

It's april '95, right?

Yeah.

I mean, yeah.
No. No one. Just single.

C'est plat, hein?

Cute girl like you.

Actually, Claire...

there is this one guy.

- Old, old friend, but recently...
- You felt a spark?

But you're still unsure.

It's complicated.

See, when I saw Ethan,
I just knew.

I mean, no hesitation,
no second-guessing...

and you see,
now he's mine.

And, uh...

as for your situation, well...

some things are
just not meant to be.

- I guess you're right.
- You'll find your Ethan one day.

- One day.
- Walkies!

I gotta jet, but...

thank you for the chat, Claire.

Hey! Dr. Tom, wait-wait, wait!

So you're a dog-walker this time?

- Love the fanny-pack.
- Yes.

It's convenient for carrying treats.
Isn't that right, beautiful?

Hey? What're your thoughts?

You know what I love about dogs?

They never pretend to be
anything that they're not.

You know? I mean, look at them.
You get what you pay for with a dog.

No artifice.

So you're upset that I improvised.

Do you think that it's appropriate
to address one of your life regrets

- through plagiary?
- Look...

I'm not proud of this,
but I know my Britney Spears

and "Hit me baby one more time!"
isn't coming out for years.

Are you kidding me? You came back
here to do something specific, right?

I know, I know. I wanted to face-off
Lozar and read "Snowflakes".

But he tore up the page that it was
written on and I can't remember it!

"Defeatism is the wretchedest of policies."
George Bernard Shaw.

No... I'm not being defeatist.
I don't have a copy!

Why does it matter so much
that I read "Snowflakes"?

Are you ever gonna answer
a direct question when I ask it?

"Maybe I will, maybe I won't".

"Oops, I did it again."
Britney Spears.

111, 112...

- Where's Claire?
- She went with some friends

to see Chumbawamba at the Phoenix.

Wow, you're hot.

From the... exertion of the...
Y-you're sweaty.

No kidding.
I better hit the shower.

Whoa, Ethan!
What're you doing?

What I always do.

Yeah, but would you
put some clothes on.

Okay, mom.

Hey, beer me.

- Can I ask you a question?
- Of course. You can ask me anything.

Well, what's up with you today?

I mean, you seem different. Like
you're carrying around this big secret.

I am.

See, I'm from the future.

Erica, what are you talking about?
What's going on with you?

You wanna know what's going
on with me? I will tell you.

I'm stuck, in a manner of speaking,

and I have to remember something
that I wrote, and I have no idea

why I have to remember it,
but, apparently, it's important!

Okay, well, what're
you trying to remember?

"Snowflakes". That poem I was
supposed to read for Lozar.

I totally forgot the last few lines.

I hate these generous
handfuls of snowflakes;

like pennies

they slip through
my clenched hands

and are never enough.

How on earth did you
remember that? Oh my god!

You read me the finished
poem like two nights ago.

I've read you tons of poems.
Why did you remember that one?

Because this one...

this one was special.

- It's goofy.
- No, it's not.

Look, I'm no expert; the kind of
poetry I like is usually about gangsters.

But this one you wrote?
It was just you.

Well, no wonder Lozar
hated it so much.

Screw him. This is who you are.
You don't need his approval.

- If only life were that simple.
- It is.

It is, isn't it?

Claire has no idea how lucky she is.

I should probably shower.

Thank you.

Claire is gonna be
sad she missed this.

I told her there'd be lots of
chances to see Chumbawamba.

Yeah. It's not like they're a
one hit wonder or anything.

What's up, everybody?

We all ready to hear some poetry?

All right, right on.

First up, someone new for y'all.

She's a student here,

studying with our
esteemable professor Lozar,

who asked me, make that insisted,
that I put her on tonight.

She will be performing
a piece called...

"Voice of Flame."

To think, all semester long you
were this boring little schoolgirl

writing this pretentious vomit.

Now, you go up there and you
show them the real Erica Strange!

Thank you.

That's exactly what I plan on doing.

Okay, put your hands together
for Erica Strange!

Hi, everyone.

Uh, slight change in plans.

This is called "Snowflakes".

I am crouched on
the axis of the sun

seated on the edge of my cloud,

womb, pregnant with thought.

Have I been made
into this snowflake

or has it been made into me?

I hate these generous
handfuls of snowflakes

like pennies,

they slip through
my clenched hands

and are never enough.

Thank you.

I invited friends to hear "Voice of Flame",
not this verbal diarrhea.

Why would you choose to do this
unoriginal, melancholy, bullshit!?

Because...

- Yes? What? What? Spit it out!
- Because it's all I've got!

Okay? "Snowflakes" are my words.

It is my poem.

And I can say whatever I want,
I don't have to impress you!

Or anyone here!

Calm down, Erica.
My friends here,

they want to hear
"Voice of Flame".

Well, they will hear it soon enough.

In about four years.

Let's go.

I'm so sorry!

Erica, just...

Embarrassing.

I'm not in the business of
delivering uplifting messages.

I leave that to my dear
friend Thomas Friedken.

But I do see great things ahead
for us here at River Rock Publishing.

And one of the projects
I am the most stoked about

is a memoir...

from mogul Marcus Stahl.

Now, I have to admit, when this
proposal first came across my desk,

I had my doubts.
It seemed, you know, blah.

But then,
it suddenly came to me:

Communications.

Stahl revolutionized the industry.

Now, I know what you're thinking:
"Julianne, where's the 'juice'?"

Wait for it.

He was smoking crack at the time!

But he overcame the addiction and...

Oh, it's really just an
amazing, amazing story.

And so what we have here
is a uniquely uplifting,

self-help/tell-all.

And I think there's
a lot of "juice"...

in that!

And I'll tell you what I think.

I think you've done it again.

- You scared me for a minute.
- Congratulations.

Oh good, oh yeah, this was
a tough one. This was tough one.

Julianne? Vancouver office called.

- I'll be right back, Frank.
- I'll be waiting.

- Get Vancouver on the phone for me.
- Uh, yeah, I lied about that. We need to talk.

This is becoming a habit of yours.
A really annoying one.

I don't like the way you treat me.

- Oh, do tell.
- It's one thing

to talk to me like I'm an idiot.
It's another to mock a short story

that I wrote years ago.
But stealing my ideas?

I won't accept it.

Well, then I will
accept your resignation.

- Pardon?
- Ugh! Do I really need to translate?

You're fired.

Julianne just told me what happened.
What got into you?

Long story.

Well, the bad news is that
I'm gonna miss you.

Good news that now I'm
free to ask you out for a drink.

A drink?!

- A "drink" drink? A date?
- Yeah.

Oh, do you have a boyfriend?

I hope so.

I mean, we're
friends in transition to...

A drink? You and me?

- It's funny 'cause I thought that you were...
- In a relationship?

No, honey, I like to play the field.

Call me.

I just wanna say congratulations
again on this exciting new direction.

Thank you so much, Frank.

So, would you say that
the theme is one of redemption?

Or would you say it's more
like triumph over adversity?

Well... yeah, I think...

either one of those is fine.

Either one...

What kind of framing device
were you thinking about?

Life story's needs organizing,
first and foremost.

You were in on that meeting,
y-you took notes.

Now's your chance to speak up.

Please.

Well, the floor is yours.

Julianne feels that the memoir should
start on one particular night in '91.

Now, Stahl owed money all over town
and was bottoming out on cocaine.

Now that's one way to
grab the reader.

Go on.

You wanted to see me?

Close the door.

Well, you did it.
You earned your place.

What makes you so sure
I still want it?

I bailed you out because
I care about the book,

not 'cause I care about you.

Whatever.
I'll see you tomorrow.

I never said I was coming back.

You stole my ideas, Julianne.

You really don't know
how this works do you?

Let me "break it down" for you.

Your ideas are a ball.
You pass me the ball,

I drive it to the net,
we score, we win,

we share in the glory.

- That's a neat rationalization.
- It's a game, Erica.

Business is a game.
Publishing is a game.

You can either stand on the sidelines
or you can play, it's really your call.

- Fine. One condition.
- I'm not gonna be nice to you.

Just gimme back my short stories.

See you tomorrow.

Sit.

So, big plans tonight?

Not really.
I'm just gonna hang...

with Ethan.

You have that look
of nervous excitement.

As if perhaps tonight
is more than just a "hang".

Well, I've been thinking,
and I think...

I think I should take a leap.

Who knows?
It could be great.

It could be a total disaster, but it...

it could be amazing.

What?

Nothing.

It's quite a thing to behold,
this new, confident Erica.

Reciting the poem in her heart,
standing up her boss,

- taking a leap into love.
- I am pretty amazing, aren't I?

Alice M. Swain said
"Courage is not the towering oak

that sees storms come and go,

it is the fragile blossom
that opens in the snow."

- Thanks, Dr. Tom.
- Good night.

It seems most of the time we
walk around with the world on mute.

But when you're on the cusp of something
dramatic and maybe life-changing,

it's like a filter comes off and
suddenly everything comes alive,

and even the smallest moment is
imbued with the magic of possibility.

And you think:

This is the night when you drop
your mask and reveal your true self.

This is the night when
everything is rewritten.

You left the door open.

Hey. I'll, uh...
I'll be right out.

- Good to see you.
- Good to see you too. Uh...

I bought us a nice bottle of wine.

Spared no expense, huh?

- We're celebrating?
- Yeah, I guess. I'm feeling great and um...

I'm ready to have our, our talk.

Are you okay?

What's wrong?

What is this?

Oh my god, you got served?

I-I knew it was coming.

I wanna get divorced. I do.

Claire and I are over,
I know that.

But when I look at
the papers, it just, uh...

it just seems so final.

I don't know what to say.

You don't have to say anything.

It's cool.

Just another thing
to celebrate, right?

I'm fine. Really.

Never been better actually.

Wish I could find a corkscrew in
this goddamn dump of an apartment.

Hey. It's okay. I'm here.

I'm glad.

I really need a friend right now.

I know, and you've got one.
I'm not going anywhere.

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