Original subtitles

Thanks.

Thanks for waiting.

My therapist thinks that I should stop talking to you.

Which is confusing because she's the one

who suggested I start talking to you in the first place.

She thinks that I can't move on.

I need you.

And I know that you need me.

So...

I'm just gonna have to find another therapist.

Ready?

Um, he was apparently dating some girl at the time who,

whenever they would get in an argument, she'd be like,

"Well, you've never even seen Casablanca"

As if that was some sort of like a pre-requisite

for being in a relationship.

And I was just there that day

because I had family in town

and I needed to escape for a few hours.

But every time we would get in a fight

he would just look at me and go,

"Here's looking at you, kid."

And listen, I know you haven't felt up to it,

but it is so important that you keep your audience engaged.

They're worried about you.

You need to share your process.

Remember who you are.

Mhm.

You're Faye fuckin' Ryan.

Say it with me, you invented the new TLC.

TL-

- TLSC.

Tender-

- Tender Love and Self Care.

T-L-S-C.

I hate to do this to you.

You know we all love you here at Lighthouse,

and we really want to continue publishing your work.

But sweetie, if you can't get me a first draft

or at least the first three chapters

by the end of the month,

then I'm afraid we're gonna have to drop you.

Wow, okay.

I thought I had 'til March.

I know what we should do.

I have a plan.

Look, I have a family cabin

that we never use this time of year,

it's in Louisiana, on the bayou.

It has everything you need.

I'll make sure it's stocked for a week.

What do you say?

Faye, you need to get out of town!

I used to love driving.

Every Saturday morning, when Jacob and I first got married,

we would go golfing,

and I would just take a drive.

It honestly didn't even matter where I was going,

I could be aimless.

I would roll down the windows

and blare my favorite music

that Jacob thought was obnoxious, but that I loved.

I would stop at a fast food restaurant

and get french fries and just drive.

I loved it.

Now I hate it.

Hey, everybody.

You know, I've been pretty quiet on here,

but I just wanted to tell you that

I really appreciate all of your messages

and I'm still here.

And I just got to this amazing place,

'cause I'm going to be getting back to writing this week,

so stay tuned.

Oh.

Score!

And I have a porch swing, so,

everything's gonna be fine.

Cool.

Hey, guys.

Oh, hey, Joe, Randy.

Thanks for coming to my peaceful writing retreat.

Come over for dinner, I'm makin' gumbo.

Just kidding, I don't know how to cook.

Wow.

Ugh.

Oh, Lord.

So, when I was 10 years old,

I was sitting in church with my family,

and when the entire congregation

bowed their heads to pray, I remember thinking,

"Why are we looking down when we pray?

Like, isn't that where the devil lives?"

What the fuck?

I mean, it's kinda cool, but why?

Okay, Emory.

Don't have any of my other books. Cool.

It's not like I've been a best seller three times.

No thanks.

Wow, guys.

Really going to town over there.

If we're talking to God, why aren't we looking up at him?

So then, I made this agreement

that every time I closed my eye,

or like I blinked, I would look up at God.

It would be like I was, you know saying

all of these little miniature prayers throughout the day.

So, yeah, every time I blinked, I'd look up at God,

and it turns out you blink a lot during the day.

So then I was like okay,

I'm going to make this easier on myself.

Every time I blink and swallow at the same time,

that's when I look up at God.

So then it became this thing,

and I developed a tic,

and then my mom told me that I was making people

feel uncomfortable when I was doing it

and also she told me it wasn't pretty.

So, she obviously didn't know

I was trying to ensure my salvation.

You're just a bitch.

You're a hateful bitch.

I have OCD.

Chapter...

One.

♪ What you mean to me, to me ♪

♪ But it's not that easy ♪

Remember that time that we went to the Everglades?

Yeah, that was fun.

This place kinda reminds me of that, don't you think?

Do we have a ghost?

Piece of shit.

Sorry, babe, it's my mom.

Hey, mom.

Sweetheart, where are you?

We had dinner plans.

Ugh, um, shit, sorry.

Are you coming still?

You want Bobby to come pick you up?

No, I actually can't make it tonight,

I'm not in town.

Where are you?

I'm in Louisiana.

Louisiana?

At Emory's cabin for the week.

I have to write.

Oh, okay.

How did you get there, did you fly?

Uh, I drove.

♪ But it's not that easy ♪

Mom?

Well, your brother's here.

You tell him you're not coming.

You know I can't make it

through these family dinners without you.

Hi, Bobby.

Sorry to disappoint.

Calm down, I forgive you.

Hey, can I ask you a real question?

Nope, only a fake one.

Ha, ha, ha.

Hey, is Ellie there?

Don't you get contractual bereavement?

Yeah, it's up.

Who decides how much time that is?

That's bullshit.

El, honey.

Fifi!

Hi, babygirl.

Fifi, are you coming?

No, I'm sorry.

It'll have to be next time, okay?

Okay.

Hey, I heard you started swimming lessons.

Do you like them?

Yeah.

But sometimes the other kids are mean.

Do you want me to kill them?

No, don't ever kill anyone, that's not funny.

Fifi has had too much juice.

Don't tell your dad I said that?

Okay, I gotta go.

Why?

But Fifi loves you so, so much, babygirl.

Love you.

Okay, can you put Gam back on?

Okay.

Gam!

Hey, hun.

Hey, Mom.

I gotta...

Faye?

Faye, you okay?

Yeah, hey, tell dad I love you guys, but I gotta go.

Okay.

What?

The way Jacob and I met was straight out of a rom-com movie.

It was...

We were the only two people in this movie theater

for a matinee showing of Casablanca,

which if you've ever seen that movie, you know,

doesn't really garner laughter.

But I was, and still am to a degree,

so uncomfortable with, like, super romantic things

that I would just laugh, I would uncontrollably laugh

throughout the entire movie.

Anyways, at the end of the movie

when the credits were rolling,

I just heard him yell from the back of the theater,

"Well, that was the dumbest piece of shit I've ever seen!"

And yeah, we walked out together, and the rest was history.

How rude.

I bet it was you.

You seemed sketch since the moment I saw you.

Babe!

Let's dance.

Hm?

Whoa.

Come on.

Come on!

Get up.

Fifi's had...

A lot of juice, you're gonna have to hold me up.

Come on, come on.

Oh!

Mm.

Okay.

Babe?

Babe, let's go to bed.

Come on.

Babe!

Babe.

Stop!

Okay.

Okay.

Okay, you did that.

No.

Fuck.

Oh my God.

Ah.

Oh my God.

Ah.

Why?

Why?

Ah.

What the fuck?

Oh my God.

What the fuck is that?

What?

Ugh.

Wow, Faye.

You're an alcoholic.

Hey!

Yesterday was great.

I wanted to tell you that I thik

you should post a few more videos today for your followers.

Just remember to let them in on...

Emory?

I hope there's another one of these.

You know what's funny?

I've always been advised by people in the industry

to be authentic.

You know, to share my truth.

Because they think that audiences somehow

can detect when somebody's being honest,

and if they're being honest,

then they'll be more attracted.

You know, I'll sell more books, I'll be more popular.

Bullshit.

Why so sad?

I'll give you some water after I go tell my fans

about my process.

What?

People hear what they want to hear.

Hey, everyone.

It is absolutely beautiful out here,

I wish you guys could all see it in person.

But I just wanted to pop back in

and say that the book is going great.

I cannot wait for the day

that I get to share it with you.

Leave me a comment below,

and let me know what you're excited about this week,

and I'm gonna go start a new chapter.

I'm gonna go start a new chapter.

Hey, babe?

Um, hey, I'm gonna go take a walk really quick

if that's okay?

No, I'm fine, I'm fine.

Babe, I promise, I'm fine.

Go start dinner, I'll be there in a second.

You're fine, you're fine.

Okay.

Okay.

Faye, you're okay.

You're okay.

Okay.

Okay.

Okay.

When I was in 4th grade, Rachel Schaefer

invited me to one of her slumber parties.

I didn't have very many friends when I was younger,

so I was super excited about it.

Anyways, when Rachel's parents went up to go to sleep,

Rachel snuck upstairs and grabbed the movie Halloween.

I remember trying my hardest

to act like I wasn't scared.

I thought maybe that would make them all like me.

I woke up the next morning covered in my own piss.

I found out years later that they had dipped my hand

in warm water while I was sleeping.

Yeah, I fucking hate Rachel Shaefer.

Should we have kids?

I know I said I didn't want them, but maybe.

Are you sure you're not hungry?

I know, I know.

All work and no play makes Faye...

so tired.

You don't want to be here, do you?

It's okay, I can tell.

Should I just call Emory?

I should just call.

I should just call and say I'm done.

Let's just take the year off and travel.

I mean, we missed our honeymoon

because I was doing this shit.

Let's go live out your Bizarre Foods fantasy.

What do you say?

I don't want this.

I want you.

Do you think I'm a good writer?

Be honest, do you really?

What was that?

What was that?

What was that?

Did you hear that?

Did you hear that?

Say something!

Sorry, I'm sorry.

Okay, I'm just gonna see what it is.

Okay, okay.

What is in this-who the hell is in this house?

Get out, please, leave me alone.

Am I going crazy?

I'm gonna go check upstairs.

Hey, Jacob.

If you do this...

You know this night is important to me...

Get in the closet, we'll just wait.

The movie Halloween was super terrifying though.

For years I couldn't walk home from school

without looking over my shoulder

thinking that there was gonna be a man

in a white mask following me.

I don't know.

He was so calm.

You know, and he walked so slow,

I think that's what made it so terrifying,

he was gonna get what he wanted.

And I always thought it was so annoying

how everybody loved Jamie Lee Curtis's character

because she survived.

You know, she like hides in the closet and still survives.

I just wanted to scream at people and be like,

"Surviving isn't fun!"

Like honestly, I'd rather be the one that gets murdered.

Holy shit.

Ah.

And this from the Times Book Review.

"Faye Ryan is what we would get if Brené Brown

and Amy Schumer had a semi-cynical little sister

who is simply wise beyond her years.

This time, Faye puts the grieving process

into a new perspective.

Both personal and heartbreaking,

Faye peppers the prose with her signature dark humor,

albeit a little darker than usual this go around.

We could all learn a lesson in the dangers of loneliness,

as Faye writes like she's texting

her best friend late at night

in what is her most vulnerable and raw work to date."

I actually kinda like that one.

Faye, guess what?

You're back up on the Times Best Seller list.

Really?

Yes!

Why?

Because you're engaging your audience, Faye.

They know you're writing again.

Everybody wants to get a head start before the next one.

Keep it up!

So, how far along are we?

Um, it looks like two chapters.

Excellent.

Was the fridge stocked? Are you eating?

Is everything good up there?

Uh, yes, yeah.

Thank you again for that.

Okay, I'll check in tomorrow.

Hey, Em.

Yup?

Um...

Have you ever experienced anything, like, paranormal here?

Oh, yeah, there's a ghost for sure.

His name's Randy.

He's totally friendly.

Really?

What?

No!

It's just quiet out there.

You can hear the wind at night.

Hey, take it easy, Faye.

Okay, babe?

Okay, bye, Em.

Bye.

Okay.

Okay!

You got me!

You got me.

Come out!

Come on out!

Come out, come out, wherever yo!

Okay.

Well, if you're not gonna let me out,

then why don't you join me for breakfast, huh?

Yeah, come on.

You think this is funny, right?

I could use a laugh.

So, why don't you tell me a joke?

Yeah.

Come on.

I'm waiting!

No.

You know what would be better than breakfast?

You're gonna like this.

You want a drink?

Hm?

'Cause I do.

Yeah.

Let's have a drink, why don't you come join me at the table?

Let's drink like a family.

I'm still waiting on my joke.

Okay.

Okay.

I'll start.

I'll start.

You ready for this one?

This is hilarious.

My husband was a saint.

And he fuckin' died in a car crash because of me!

Yeah, I know!

Because I just had to go to another event

to win some dumb award for another book that I wrote,

a book that I pulled right on out of my ass.

Mm.

He didn't even want to go.

Huh-uh.

He probably didn't want to go to any of them, but he did.

For me.

For me.

Now here I am, alive.

So alive!

Isn't that funny?

So, what do you do around here?

Just like, hang out?

Knock shit over?

You just go around slapping other people's

upper pussy area, you fuckin' dick?

That was my me time.

Oh, wow.

Oh.

What's behind door number two?

Mm.

Oh.

That's good.

Okay!

I get it.

That's good, that's so funny!

You are so, okay.

A disturbed, young, self-help author slash recent widow

finds a Ouija board and dies in a cabin in the woods

while she's trying to contact her dead husband!

Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh.

That's rich.

Listen, Captain Howdy.

I don't write fiction.

I write things that are loosely based on the truth.

Sometimes I wonder if I'm a narcissist

because I make everything about me,

but then other times I think I can't be a narcissist

because I am literally the last person

that I want to be around.

Hey.

Hey, do you follow me on social?

How am I doing?

Did I tell you I'm a best seller?

Mhm, whoop-dee!

But we all know that success doesn't mean anything

unless we have somebody to share it with, right babe?

I got you, babe.

I got my baby and he is smokin' hot.

Mm.

Oh my God.

Let's take this shit-show live!

Hey, everybody.

I got a little writer's retreat tip for you.

For one for your checklist.

Sometimes...

I forgot what I was gonna say.

Oh, yeah.

Sometimes you have to get your inspiration from the beyond!

Remember when every 12 year old girl watched The Craft

and then played light as a feather, stiff as a board?

We were all low-key in a coven.

So fucked up!

I'm at my publisher's cabin,

and it turns out she made a deal with the devil.

So, leave a comment below if you's a witchy hoe.

Oh.

Emory!

What the fuck are you doing, are you drunk?

No, I'm enlightened.

Faye, so help me God, take down that last post.

Sober up, get yourself together.

If I didn't care for you as much as I do,

I would fire your ass right now.

Do it.

Faye!

Do it!

Faye, you're on such fucking thin ice right now,

I will come down there if you don't remove the last post,

and we will have to let you go if you can't stop acting-

- You know, Emory-

- Like a five year old.

I got a deal for you.

How about I don't write this book.

How 'bout dat?

What the fuck are you doing?

How 'bout dat?

Faye?

I understand that you're having a rough day, okay?

Okay, I get that you're re-living everything

to write this book.

You don't know shit, Emory.

Faye-

- Stop acting like you know what happened.

You're right, I don't know, but you do.

And it's up to you to help other people

who are going through the same thing.

Let them know they're not alone.

Mhm.

Except for they are alone.

I'm alone.

You are not alone, Faye.

"You are not alone."

Remember when Michael Jackson sang that song to Lisa Marie

and then they got a divorce, and then she was alone?

Ah, and he got to keep Bubbles.

Those little boys, that was so fucked up.

Faye.

Oh my God, I did love that Free Willy song though.

Faye!

What?

I don't want to stop you in your process,

but you cannot pull shit like this.

You'll be on TMZ tomorrow, and your career will be over.

Oh no, that would be the worst!

Why don't you just take it down?

Hey, you take it down, I'll give you my password.

Get a pen, get a paper, get your family,

get your husband, get your things, write this down.

My password is "imapieceofshit123”.

Okay, that's it.

I'm coming down there.

No!

No, no, no, no, no, no.

No, don't worry about it, I'll take it down, I promise.

Just, God, take a joke.

I'm not kidding, sober up.

Take a cold shower, and call me!

Okay.

Somebody has their panties in a wad.

Oh, okay.

Look at all you little witchy hoes.

I have to delete it, I'm sorry.

Hey.

Hey.

You want to play a game?

Yeah?

Okay.

Okay.

I just have to pee first.

Don't start without me.

I started writing when I was 9.

Yeah.

Every night before bed I would write in my journal.

Felt like such an adult thing to do.

They're actually kind of cute to look back and read now.

The problems I had back then were cute.

Did you wilt my flowers?

Rude.

Who are you?

Do I know you?

Jacob?

Is this Jacob?

Are you with him?

Please answer.

Please answer.

Hey, hun.

Mom?

Faye, what's wrong?

Did I make this happen?

What?

Honey, what are you talking abo?

Was I a bad kid or something?

What did I do, I don't understand!

Okay, calm down, just breathe.

I can't.

Yes, you can.

Just breathe.

You have to do that, okay?

Okay, Mom.

You're okay.

I'm scared.

Okay.

What are you scared of?

I don't know, I don't know, I-

- Okay, all right, it's okay.

Just breathe.

Okay, you're okay.

Everything is just so messed up.

You're okay.

It's not supposed to be like this,

I'm not supposed to be like this.

Faye?

What do you mean, baby?

He's suppose to be here.

Faye, honey, I know it hurts.

It hurts so fucking bad.

And it's my fault.

Uh-uh, no, it it is not your fault.

But if I just would've skipped the event

like he wanted to do, then he would be here,

he would be here with me right now.

All right, Faye, I'm gonna come get you.

No, no.

What's the address, where are you?

I need to finish.

Tell me how to find you, you need to come home.

Honey, baby, you cannot keep blaming yourself.

Only God knows why it happened.

Mom.

What, baby?

Faye?

I gotta go.

No, Faye, no.

I love you.

Faye, do...

Is this my punishment?

If you're gonna kill me, just do it!

No need to drag it out.

I already don't want to be here, just do it!

Come on!

What are you?

Say something.

Fucking say something!

No, no, no, please, please, please, please, please.

Oh God, God.

God, why? Why? Please!

Please, please!

Stop!

Stop!

Stop!

Please, please, please stop.

Go away, go away!

Stop, stop.

Stop, stop.

Oh God, God, God, God.

Please, please, please stop.

Please!

Go away, go away, go away!

When I was younger, I mean like,

when I was really young,

I used to beg my parents to put a lock

on the outside of my bedroom door

because I was terrified that I would sleepwalk

in the middle of the night,

and because I knew where all the knives were in the home,

that maybe I would get them

and then I would murder my whole family.

It sounds weird when I say it out loud,

but I was terrified as a little kid, I was so scared.

I was scared that maybe subconsciously I was evil,

or there was something wrong with me,

or maybe I had impulses that I didn't even know that I had,

and if I were sleeping,

I wouldn't be able to control those impulses,

and I just...

Oh my God, I just remember being so terrified

that maybe in the middle of the night I could do that,

and I didn't want to.

Obviously it wasn't something that I wanted to do,

I was just really scared of myself.

I think I'm still really scared.

Please.

God, if you're listening...

I need a miracle.

I'm sorry.

I'm so sorry, Jake.

I'm so sorry, baby.

Give me one more chance, and I swear,

I swear I won't fuck it up.

I'll do anything, I will.

Can we just start over?

Can we please...

Just start over.

No, no.

Why?

Ah.

You want to know what absolutely blows my mind?

Like sometimes I spend so much time thinking about this.

Time doesn't exist.

It doesn't exist, it doesn't exist in this linear way

that we experience it.

Like, everything is happening now.

Everything, every version of myself that has ever existed

is happening right now.

But then that makes me really sad,

because then I wonder, well then, do I always have Jacob?

Or have I never had him?

I don't know if that makes sense.

Okay.

That morning...

He turned off my alarm clock.

He knew that I couldn't sleep in, I could never sleep in.

That wasn't an option for me.

My day was planned down to the minute,

but he turned off my alarm and he let me sleep in

because he knew that I needed it.

And I was so mad at him.

I was so mad at him, I was so mad!

Why?

I was always so tired.

Remember?

You do.

I mean, if I would've known that

was his last morning, maybe...

I don't know, maybe I would've nicer?

But I'm not nice.

I'm not nice.

I don't have any friends.

I used to.

Jacob married me when I had no money, but I had friends.

He married me before I was anyone.

And we would laugh.

Ugh, we would laugh about everything.

Like, if he was gonna die, he should've died laughing.

But I took that away from him.

Was this the last thing he saw before he died?

At least my outside matched my inside.

That's gonna leave a scar.

Faye?

Mom, please, no, please.

Don't come in, I'm fine, I'm fine.

Mom.

Faye, it's okay.

Mom, please just go.

I'm fine.

Unlock the door.

Baby, unlock the door, let me h.

I was supposed to have a baby.

We were gonna have a baby.

I didn't want it...

until I did.

But then it was too late.

I just...

Be careful what you wish for, Faye.

Faye, it's Em.

This isn't funny.

Where are my chapters?

Faye, it's Em.

Why aren't you answering, where are you?

Call me back as soon as you get this message.

I know what I have to.

Stop!

You've just finished your first book,

how do you feel?

Uh, you really want to?

I know how I feel, I've never been more proud.

Aw, babe, you're gonna make me cry.

What now?

What's the dream?

What does Faye L. Ryan want now

she's about to unleash her words into the world.

You're so dumb.

Honestly?

Tell me.

I don't know what happens next,

but what I want is to just make a difference.

If this book helps one person, seriously, just one person,

then I'll know I've done something worthwhile.

You heard it here first, ladies and gentlemen.

Stop!

I love you.

Love you.

Hey, babe.

I know you're having a hard day,

so I'm picking up Indian food, and I'm at Martin's now.

I can't remember which one it is that you like better.

Is it the Prisoner or the Pessimist?

These are terrible names.

'Cause a pessimist is never disappointed.

That's actually good marketing.

Hey, babe.

I know you're having a hard day,

so I'm picking up Indian food and I'm at Martin's now.

I can't remember which one it is that you like better.

Is it the Prisoner or the-

- Hi everyone, this is a public apology for lying to you.

I used to mean everything I said,

but somewhere along the way I started to say

what people wanted to hear.

The version of me you see is...

Strong, put together, kind,

compassionate, a teacher, a healer.

All that.

And I was that.

I was.

When my book started getting popular,

people would tell me that I had turned their lives around,

and I started feeling responsible for a lot.

A lot of hearts.

And I felt like I couldn't make a mistake.

And there were so many people

telling me what to do all the time

that I forgot the sound of my own voice.

I was miserable.

And I took my misery out on the people closest to me.

I pushed all of my real friends.

I pushed my husband away.

I was fighting with him

when I ran a red light

that caused the accident that killed him.

The truth is...

I'm a failure.

I'm supposed to be writing a book

about healing right now and...

I've come to realize that you can only heal if you want to.

I don't want to, because I don't deserve it.

I'm sorry I let you down.

Oh, Char.

Are you ever aware of when you're taking something too far?

You know, like with anything.

It could be you're having an argument with somebody

and you know that if you just say that one thing,

that one thing...

That you could lose them forever.

Or if you just have one more pill, just one more pill

or one more drink, you might not wake up.

I would never write this in a book because quite frankly,

I wouldn't have a career if I did.

But I fucking live for those moments.

This is another excerpt from the book.

"I have scars all over my body.

My healed wounds, my reminders.

I can't help but think about that scene in Jaws

where Hooper, Quint, and Brody sit around comparing scars.

This was a shark, this was a fight.

This one, she broke my heart.

And they laughed.

They laughed over old wounds together,

while the monster still lurks in the depths of the ocean

right beneath their boat."

Hey.

Hey, Mom.

Are you still in Louisiana?

I'm sorry I haven't gotten back.

I'm actually just about to leave.

You finished up?

Mhm.

Really?

That's great.

Why don't you stop by on your way?

Yeah, that's actually...

That's actually why I'm calling.

I was wondering if maybe I could come stay with you

for a little while.

I would love that.

Nothing would make me happier.

Yeah.

It's just, I could really use the company.

Come home, sweetheart.

I'll get your room ready.

Mhm.

Thank you.

Okay.

I love you.

Love you.

Bye, babe.

Bye.

"Life isn't easy,

and we're just bobbing in the ebb and flow.

The cycle never ends, but it's all important.

It all belongs.

The wins, the losses, the fear, the laughter,

the pain, the heartbreak.

I've spent the last 6 months talking to my dead husband,

pretending he was still alive, like nothing happened.

But something did happen.

A tragedy happened.

The kind of story I've read too many times to count,

but not one I could accept as my own.

I didn't want to heal,

because healing would mean that I had to acknowledge

that I was broken.

And when something heals,

it doesn't mean it goes back to its original state.

Jacob is never coming back.

My life will never be the same.

Grief is terrifying.

And it's never been defeated by a one man army.

But, what if it's not supposed to be a fight?"

That's it.

Are we...

Are we done?

Okay, thank you.