All language subtitles for Interview.with.the.Vampire.S02E05.1080p.HEVC.x265-MeGusta

This is the part of my story
back in San Francisco

where you said,

and I paraphrase,
"Give it to me."

Man: You weren't
always a vampire, were you?

Hey, stop! No!

That's my voice,
but I don't remember it.

The boy we met in San Francisco,
he's still in there.

We can have him saying
what happened next in no time.

Would you like
to join us?

You go ahead.
Have your fun.

Man #2: I see they've separated
you from your laptop.

Louis: Tapes are
an admitted performance.

Give it to me.
I won't waste it.

This is the premise
of our interview.

The odyssey
of recollection.

I let you whine
and have your say.

I used to be real good
at running things.

Yes

Woman:
What about me and you?!

Picked another one
over me!

You and fucking him!

Memories just
keep bubbling up.

I want this.

To remember.

Man: Things got a little heated.
Man #2: With a boy!

Things got heated
with a boy.

We had it figured out,
didn't we?

- Mmm.
- What we needed from the other.

Our proper roles.

A less dictatorial approach

to the coven
is embraced by my love.

A dreamy kind of balance.

Ah, July, 1949.

- The reading room.
- Mmm.

We broke into the same library
every night that month,

hypnotized security,
as one does, flipped the lights,

laid our backs on long tables
and stared up at the ceiling.

Hot.

Iron pillars holding up
terracotta domes,

a light trick
that made the ceiling

appear higher than it was.

And why not pass
a month that way?

An effortless,
eternal life ahead of us.

Funny thing,

trying to remember
what occupied one's time

when one was ignorant
of the plotting around him.

Grab that.

Santiago had broken into
our apartm...

I'm sorry, grab what?

Hmm? Oh, it's just a note
to my assistant. It's nothing.

What did you want to grab,
Daniel?

Eternal life ahead of us.

Funny thing, trying to
remember what occupied

one's time when one
was ignorant

of the plotting around him.

Grab that.

It's a thing with syntax.
I see it a lot.

The impersonal pronoun "one",
"one's time", "one didn't".

Becomes the third person "him".

Stops being "I" or "me".

And that indicates what?

You're circling something.

You're getting close to
something you want distance
from.

Language as a chicken exit
on a roller coaster.

Or it's daytime
and a vampire of Louis's age

is fighting the narcoleptic
pull of the sun.

Or that.

Ah. Is this Malik?

It is, sir.

- You're the guy?
- Mmm.

You're gonna chase me down

in your little
Jimmy Choo sneakers, huh?

Shall we take our
business to the living room?

- Who are they?
- They are not your concern.

Oi! Who are you?

- Friends.
- If you'll excuse us?

Your friend here is
a hot-headed young man, hmm?

Good thing to be.

Tell him to buy a Bugatti,

crash it into the guardrails.

What was that?

Armand rarely eats.

So when he does
he prefers to hunt for it.

- Does Malik know he's lunch?
- Are you recording?

No.

Malik knows if he makes it

on foot to Jumeirah Mosque
by evening,

he'll be paid enough crypto to,

well, most anything he wants.

Has anyone ever cashed in?

Often it's someone
carefully chosen

for the harm he does the world
with his chosen profession.

And when he can't find
an arms dealer dumb enough

to answer his ad?

Someone half in love
with an easeful death.

He's ditching us?

He'll have Malik
begging for it in an hour.

His methodology, it's
never violent, I assure you.

Mm-hm.

Follow up with the vampire
Armand about diet and exercise.

And once again,
Louis alone with himself.

So, everything
in its right place

before the theater burns down.

In middle school you stole
your dad's Playboy magazines.

- Sold them at recess.
- I'm sorry!

Little dirty, little
deceitful but it's
enterprising.

- Is that what makes you fascinating?
- - The coffin!

In high school you told a girl you'd only do her...
Rest.

- ...if she had a paper bag over her head.
- - Daniel?

- She agreed and you did it...
- Daniel.

How long is your boyfriend's
lunch again?

An hour. Two at the most.

Let's change it up.

I was going over
my notes last night.

Something he said
on his initial flight

to the book shelves
caught my ear.

"This time I won't
save your life."

Armand saved you from me
in 1973.

Yeah, you bit me, I blacked out.

He ripped you off me.
Dumped me in a drug den.

- Yes.
- Five hundred years,

hundreds of thousands of kills.

How often has Armand
spared a life?

Armand could see
I was partial to you.

Armand preserves my happiness
even when I don't or can't.

He had a hunch you might
prove fruitful in later times.

Okay. Sure. Let's go with that.

Um... Our first interview...
It's a fog.

I mean, it's the '70s.
All a blur.

Woke up in a parking lot
in Milwaukee once.

- Don't know how I got there.
- What's the question, Daniel?

We had drinks, you paid.

We cabbed to your place
on Divisadero, you paid.

That's right.

Did we...?

I like what you've, uh,
done with the place.

Getting some bail bondsman,
post-divorce vibes.

I own a few of these places.

Oh, yeah? How many?

Many.

Are you a real estate mogul?

Oh, I'm a lot of things.

Does that scare you, boy?

So you climb in it,
close the lid, and bang?

Sometimes.

Okay.

I mean, I'm into
counter-cultures.

So am I the first guy that
you've brought back here?

The fifth.

Backgammon?

Well, that's wholesome.

Old-timey fun
from the Sasanian Empire.

Oh, wow!

Cheeseburgers or chicken
chow mein, take your pick.

Oh! Oh, well...

All your slickness
at the bar, all that's gone.

What do I seem like now, boy?

A veteran of many wars.
It's yours.

Cocaine's a fun boy's drug.
I'm not fun.

Alright, suit yourself.

Mm!

I prefer you like this.

All dark and real.

Maybe I could cheer you up?

What are you doing?

Fulfilling my side
of the social contract.

Do you normally interview your
subjects with your shirt off?

No.

So we didn't?

No.

I really...
I really thought we did.

Do you want to now?

He sometimes lingers
when boats come into harbor.

San Francisco.

Psychedelics, disco biscuits,

angel powders and young men.

Just about every night
I lived there.

You offered something...

off the menu.

Louis de Pointe du Lac,
from New Orleans.

You specialize in
low-end real estate?

I like predicting what
overlooked product

will flourish in time:

low-end property,
little-known art.

Worth is often
miscalculated because of...

Hue?

Minor factors.

You can squeeze profit
out of that margin.

Did you gravitate to San Fran
as a hub for homophiles?

Paris in the 1940s,

with its permissive
laissez-aller sexual atmosphere,

was the more
formative liberation for me.

Take this seriously.

I am.

Shit!

I forget to put a tape in.

- I'm a vampire.
- Okay.

I mean, I'm really interested
to know why you believe that.

Fuck!

Are those fangs?

Hi.

Fuck, man...

ae you the Zodiac killer?

Don't be afraid.

Just start the tape.

Okay.

It's on now.

Uh...

First question.

You weren't always
a vampire, were you?

No. I was a 33-year-old man
when I became a vampire.

And how did it come about?

There's a simple answer to that.

I don't believe I want
to give simple answers.

I wanna tell the real story.

You smoked shaky cigarette
after shaky cigarette.

You shook more than you do now.

What I remember most, other
than that you were an alien,

five feet from me, was
how eager you were to spill.

No coaxing on my part,
no journalism per se.

You were terrified of me,
Daniel.

You were lonely, Louis.

It was gratifying
to tell you what I was,

after mingling with humans
for so long.

You weren't thrill-seeking,
you were floundering.

Tape after tape
of emotional upchuck.

Where's this leading, Daniel?

I have some outstanding
questions about 1973.

Like... why you talked
to me in the first place?

- You had curiosity, swagger.
- Nah!

I would chat for a few hours,
and then who would come looking

if another drug-addled-homophile
disappeared.

The Berkeley Barb?

Malik will be dead in two hours.

You've made me
an accessory to murder

and you've had 13 sessions.

I want 20 minutes, for me.

I'd like to know, for me,
what happened between us.

Okay?

Okay.

Okay.

Then let me ask you this,
Daniel Molloy.

What's the next
thing you remember?

You eviscerating Lestat.

He had a dark pull,
a numbing effect on the senses.

- He was a handsome Satan.
- Yeah, I mean, I know the type.

When you stripped away
his superficial charms,

beneath his flimsy
gentleman's veneer...

- Mmm.
- ...Lestat was trivial,

- vapid, vulgar.
- Mmm. Vulgar?

Maniacal, blind
and sterile and contemptible!

- Big time asshole.
- He appeared frail

and stupid to me.

A man made of dried twigs
with a thin, carping voice.

And for all that Lestat
boasted about his love of music,

he played without
an iota of feeling,

nothing, no one home,

like an automaton
plunking away at the notes

with all the emotional
acuity of a monster!

Yeah, but you were
suggestible, he lured you in.

You know? He's a faker,
but you figured that out.

By then you'd paid a biblical
price for your first love.

I'm sorry, I didn't mean to...

No, that was astute, boy.

You see. You were
nimble-minded, even back then.

I was a moron.

Will you, uh,
do the fang thing again?

I love that, man.

Just for reference that
was Louis de Pointe du Lac

just now making his fangs...
come out.

Oh, shit!

The tape ran out. It's just
a small 30 minute thing.

If I had been an actual
journalist and, you know,

not fried on coke and ludes,
I would have realized

what a dangerously
unstable psyche I was with.

Because the next thing that
happened was, you detonated.

♪ Oh, the sewing machine ♪

♪ A girl's best friend ♪

I sat on that bench
in Jackson Square,

watched Claudia
disappear into the night.

I'm kinda with her.
Get off that bench, brother.

I pictured her on the platform,

boarding the train, carrying
her off into her future.

A future I would be absent from.

- Or you just pick yourself up.
- Stay behind with Lestat.

And I knew within seconds
it was the only choice,

the wrong choice.

And then what?

Then... what?!

I had nothing.

Nothing but the bench
I was sitting on.

So, I stayed on it... for hours.

All I had to do was
watch the sun come up.

Let it bleach my bones.

Purify the putrid soul.

Are you kidding me?! What,
you were just going to end it?

I mean, what about life?

Like, joyrides
and night swimming,

and marriage and cancer,

and all of that till
the death rattle.

I mean, we gotta carry all this
shit and you had a ticket out.

And you were just
gonna throw it away?

You've overstepped now, boy.

Listen, no.
Obviously you didn't do it,

but you were given the gift

and I've been hearing you
bitch the night away about it,

and since you use
the past tense about her,

- I figure she's...
- She's what?

Well, I can see
where it's going and...

And what?

And... give it to me.

I won't waste it.
I think you could use me.

I think we have
an energy, you and me.

I could be your Lestat,
your Claudia, but better.

I mean, I got a little bit
of both of them in me,

plus a few things they don't.

This, after all I've told you,

is what you ask for, boy?!

Yeah, well, you don't
know what human life is like.

I mean, you've forgotten, man.
I mean, you don't understand

the meaning of your own story!

No! Hey, stop!

Suicide hotline 101.

Don't say to the person on
the other end of the line,

"Hey, why don't you
cheer the fuck up?"

- I overreacted.
- Not sure that killing me

was a totally warranted
response to my idiocy.

I took a scoop
out of your throat.

I deserved to have my ass kicked

for the sheer number of times
I said, "And then what?"

All the drugs in your blood,
it all went back into me.

- probably why I can't remember--
- Cornerstone of prize-winning
journalism.

And then what?

I, um...

- Hmm.
- Daniel?

Daniel?

Yeah, uh...

A hesitation.

I have a surprise for you.

A curveball which will seem
like less of a surprise,

and more like an ambush.

Is that our original interview?

Turns out I had
a copy saved in the cloud.

- You're a liar, Daniel.
- So are you, Louis.

Whether you know it or not.

You remember the last
nine minutes at the end?

Betty Hutton drowning out

the indecipherable
moaning and yelling.

- Yes.
- Well, um...

My researcher, uh, assistant,

uh, she's a bit of
an audiophile,

and, uh, well,
she cleaned it up a bit.

Press pause on the betrayal
of it all and... listen.

Louis?

That wet thud?

That's Armand saving me.

What?

- What?!
- It's morning!

I lost time.

- Things got a little heated.
- With a boy!

Things got heated with a boy.

I was at home
picking lint off the sofa!

- I said to join us!
- The night's gone.

The room's soiled
and once again, I'm here

with mop and mindlessness
to clean it up.

So the room got dirty, so what?
I'll clean it up.

No, I clean it up! You make
the mess and I clean it up!

Mark it on the calendar,
align it with Ursa Major.

Louis' tri-annual
fuck off and find me

- with apologies to follow.
- I'm sorry.

Seek comfort in the arms
of lowlifes and unfortunates,

- and broken children, fine.
- Oh, fine!

The fine that
doesn't sound like--

But revealing
our nature to a reporter

you met in a bar ten hours ago?

- What if it was published?
- I was having some fun!

You don't have enough
to fear from Paris?

I was in the middle
of ending things, when you--

You'd have been passed out
on the floor next to him, Louis!

Out on your feet from
the drugs you stuffed him with!

Oh, this is boring!
You're boring!

You are so boring!

- And here come the drugs.
- Colorless.

- Up the fangs, down this road.
- Flavorless.

- Dull! Dull! Dull!
- Into the heart and
off with the fingers, feet.

- Dull nights, dull weeks!
- And wallowing brain.

Dull months, dull as fuck!

Suffocation by
the world's softest,

beige-est pillow!

The ten hours
I spent with that boy

were more exciting,

more fascinating,

than decades with you!

Oh, there it is!

The half-blank,
half-apocalyptic look!

But what does it
mean tonight, huh?

Does he want to lick my boots
or chop my hands off?

Is it the gremlin or
the good nurse tonight?

Huh?

Okay.

Okay, perhaps.

But am I as boring

as the blather committed
onto the ferric tapes

of your fascinating boy?

"Oh, it's so, so hard to be me."

- Picking lint off the sofa?!
-"It's so hard to kill humans."

"I can feel their
feelings as I drain them."

You sat on your hands
and put your ear to the wind.

-"Everyone I know wrongs me."
- Okay.

Okay, let's wake the boy up
and let's try you.

"I'm the vampire Armand
and my daddy vampire

groomed me into a little bitch."

-"My brother tossed himself
off a roof!"
-"Vampires who murdered my daddy

- made me pretend I didn't
have a dick for 240 years."
-"My sister buried me alive.

My daughter was my
sister was my throw pillow.

Well, he wouldn't
look at me kindly.

Lestat. Lestat. Lestat. Lestat.
Lestat. Lestat. Lestat."

I talked shit about him
the whole time.

- So what?!
- The name!!

The name!

Unuttered in our home
for 23 years,

said over and over again

until it was pounding
in my brain like a hammer.

Our problems aren't about him.

And you threw her name
around just for cover,

but it always
circled back to him.

- I loved her.
- But she didn't love you.

Not like he did,
not like I have.

I know.

I know!

Yes!

I know.

Thank you for saying it.

It's all creeping back.

Paris and the, uh,
what, what, what?

But there's...
all of it coming back.

There's, uh, Paris.

Paris.

Can you hear that?

Can you hear that, hm?

Can you hear her?

She's calling me.

I think that's you
running out of the room.

Hear that?

Second door slam further off?

What's that second door slam?

I don't... I don't remember.
I don't remember any of this.

First door opens.

Slam.

Footsteps.

Second door slams, metal door.

- Armand calls your name.
- Louis!

He runs after you.

Metal door opens to screams.

A few more seconds,

tape runs out.

Where is Armand
following you, Louis?

It's morning.

You went out of the room.

Door opens.

Slams.

Steps.

Metal door.

Louis!

No! No, no, no! No!

I walked into the sun.

You remember that?

I'm remembering it now.

Let me ask you a really
loaded question, Louis.

And then what?

My skin burnt
to the color of pitch.

Char coming off me.

The pain?

Like a siren.

Like a noise in my body.

I walked out into the sun.

I think so.

Pieces of my life, gone.

I knew who I was
without those pieces.

Wait. Sidestep the big picture.

Get the story straight first.

The pain!

Must be exquisite.

What happened?

You drained a drug fiend.

You said the worst things
you've ever said to me.

- No. No.
- And then you ran outside.

And now you're a convalescent.

So... so...

What is it?

I'm sorry.

Meaningless word.

Meaningless.

The floor slants slightly north.

The boy's blood flowed that way.

We should fix that
before we sell.

He's alive?

The boy?

The fascinating boy?

He's fine.

Don't...

He's just fine.

Don't!

Oh, he's fine. Your fine!

This is fine! We're all fine!

You two kept me in that
apartment for how long?

- You were there, Daniel.
- I don't remember.

I... That's why I'm asking.

I can remember
a few things, like...

He's just fine.

There's someone else there.

He's fine.

We're all fine!

A cellophaned corpse
on the floor.

Meaningless word.

Meaningless.

A neighbor saw you while
he was taking out the trash.

I had to chase him down.

The floor slants slightly north.
The boy's blood flowed that way.

There's a TV in
the corner near the corpse.

Some kind of
sock or shoe commercial?

There's sheets of plastic tarp,
some duct tape, bleach.

Surely, I'm next.

Armand!

I can see him
walking out of the bedroom.

I can hear you
but I can't see you.

The doorframe is blocking you.

Okay, yeah.

Armand puts
the table back and...

finds the recorder
under the TV.

Brings it to the table. Huh.

He ejects the tape.

Yeah. Flips it over...

and...

presses play.

I hear my voice
on the recorder.

...the more you liked it.

A fresh young girl
that was his favorite food,

but the triumphant kill
for a sadist like Lestat

- was always a young man.
- Armand!

A young man like yourself

would have appealed
to him in particular.

You see, they represented

the greatest loss to Lestat,
because they stood

on the threshold of the
maximum possibility of life.

- Rest.
- Of course...

Lestat didn't understand
this himself.

Lestat understood nothing.

Curious.

Armand stands over you.

He's commandeered your body.

Rise.

Armand.

From Polynesian Mary's.
I was with Louis.

- I can't move.
- Move your body?

Yeah. Yeah.

- I don't want...
- To die?

On that item,

I think I know
something you don't.

I'm told you've lived
a fascinating life.

- I never said that.
- No, Louis did.

Leave him alone,
Armand!

- Armand!
- You held Louis' attention.

He confessed
his innermost secrets to you.

I wanted drugs.

We didn't even have sex, man.

- 128 boys he's brought here.
- He said five.

And you're the first
he didn't consummate and drain.

- This is so bad!
- That makes you special.

Please, man, I'm just a shitty
little kid from Modesto.

That warrants investigation.

I could be on my knees
in a second.

Bartering with desire.

Is that what makes
you fascinating?

He didn't even
want me in the end!

I mean, look at my neck!

I'm fucking bleeding
down to my ankles!

-"Vera."
- She's a single mother.

Works in a titty bar
on Market Street.

"Kevin."

Some Vietnam vet
who lives in The Castro

with his Vietnamese refugee
boyfriend with no legs.

You think, in all these spools,

you've arrived at
some ineffable truth?

No, it's all bullshit.

An instinct to self-efface.

Is that what
makes you fascinating?

Okay, yes.

I'm good at getting angles,

getting people to open up.

I can't feel my body.
It's freaking me out.

Oh, no, no, no, no, no.

You're going to teach me
how to be fascinating.

Leave him be, Armand! Stop!

In middle school you stole
your dad's Playboy magazines.

Sold them at recess. A little
dirty, a little deceitful,

but it's enterprising. Is that
what makes you fascinating?

- How are you...?
- In high school, you told a girl

you'd only do her if she had
a paper bag over her head.

She agreed and you did it
even as she cried.

A splinter of coldness in you?

Is that what
makes you fascinating?

My legs are starting to cramp.

Even his transgressions
are ordinary!

Louis, the pinhole's
closing back up.

Okay, it's you
who's fascinating!

You can read minds, right?

Louis thinks I'm boring.

- I have Charlie Horse, left leg.
- Do you find me boring?

No.

Do you want to hear my story?

Yes. Yes!

Yes.

My first memory.

I'm being run down
by slavers in Delhi.

My second.

Hmm.

An eager black hole.

Oh, my God.

I'll keep digging.

But I'm not...

not hopeful there's much
more to you Daniel,

other than a hole.

I was in Zheleznogorsk

to interview
an operative for the KGB.

Halfway through
I tried to go to the bathroom.

He'd locked me in.

I was the one being interviewed.

Your point?

I don't know. No point.

Other than, fuck your boyfriend.

Rage is an imprecise emotion.

I'd hurt him,
but I was fragile, an invalid.

Spiro Agnew?

Daniel? Daniel?

Washington
insiders are claiming

this Saturday evening that
Vice President Spiro T. Agnew

may be close to resigning
in light of

ongoing investigations.

Federal prosecutors
will soon present evidence to

- a Baltimore Grand Jury over...
- Yeah, I'm with him now.

- the Vice President allegedly--
- I won't say where.

Saturday.
It was Saturday.

But we met on Tuesday.

So, I was the house pet
for what?

One, two, three, four days?

- Your boyfriend...
- I'm with him now.

...was in a trance of some sort.

- I won't tell you why.
- I don't know. I can't...

- No.
- Lunch is almost over. Try.

- I won't say where.
- You fucking try.

- You were there.
- Go back to the chair, the TV.

Vice President
Spiro T. Agnew may be...

This feet in
the block shit is bullshit.

You're in the chair,
the TV is on...

- Some service stations...
- Armand, can you come?!

I can't get up. It hurts!

Put me in the coffin.

Coffin.

Yeah, it's you.
You keep saying coffin.

My nose is bleeding?

- Some service stations...
- Armand, can you come?!

Where are you?!

The pain is back!

It's like I'm still burning!

Armand, put me in the coffin!

Please!

- Yes.
- Thank you.

Rest.

Uhh! Oh!

...consumers
and gas station owners.

I listened to the tapes.

All of them twice.

Lestat, Lestat.

Claudia, Lestat, Lestat.

And all I talked
about him was trash.

Yes, you said that. But why?

It's not exactly how you've
talked about him to me.

Did I catch you in a fantasy,

where the boy somehow
fumbles his way to publication?

Where Lestat
strolls past a bookstore,

your book displayed
in the shop window,

where he buys himself a copy,

reads your nasty embellishments

and comes
chasing after you again?

If you want the insanity back,

if you wanted escape
from this prison of empathy

I've locked you away in,

all you had to do
was ask, Louis.

A final act of service
I'd like to perform before I...

I leave you to yourself.

I know where he is.

I found his voice
among the many.

No.

I told him I was with you.

Lestat.

No.

I told him you were
thinking of him again.

- Lestat.
- No!

Yes. I'm here.

He's waiting for you.

I'm with him now.

He cannot hear you.

He has injured himself.

- Louis?
- No.

This is your chance, Louis.
I am your maker's voice.

Louis?

Louis.

- Mon cher.
- Mon cher.

You wanted to say
something to me?

You wanted to say
something to me?

Why are you ill?
What's happened to you?

Why are you ill?
What's happened to you?

I love you, Louis.

Uh...

Tell him I love him, Armand.

I love you, Louis.

Tell him, Armand.

Tell him!

Louis?

Louis.

Louis!

Louis!

Uh...

He was my maker.

It's nothing more.

You left me for death.

Will I be on suicide watch
for the next 1,000 years?

Have I atoned for my part of...

Paris?

Have I crawled an inch forward?

Or am I a reminder
of the worst of it?

I'll finish cleaning up.

Rest.

Rest.

Rest.

He said that to me too.

Rest.

Shh, shh-shh-shh.

Rest now.

A bunch of words...

but it started with "rest".

"Rest" and then?

Shh, rest.

I've been calling to you
for some time.

From every bad fix,

from the unnamed malaise
you feel Sunday afternoons.

And now here I am,
and you can rest.

I don't want to rest.

I am the quiet
you've been longing for.

After all
the garishness of life,

- the jostling, the clawing...
- I like my life.

...the dull thrum
of desperation in you.

Will I get the fixes I need?

Will I be somebody?

Will I get the fixes
I need to be somebody?

But, Daniel,

you already know who you'll be.

An ugly duplex back in Modesto.

A job in an office with drab
carpets and flickering lights.

A woman in
the mold of your mother,

vacuuming on valium.

A genteel drinking problem,
like your father.

Your wife
counting down your thrusts.

Your children
shying away from you.

All the confidence
and hope of your youth

replaced by
a seething, boiling regret.

Until one day,

you're at a traffic light.

The light turns green,

horns honking.

You don't move.

Horns honking.

You don't move.

I have a thing
happening in the city.

I'm a bright young reporter
with a point of view.

Shh-shh-shh.
A comfortable chair

in a room that slants
to the north.

An easeful death.

Rest.

It's okay.

It's okay.

It's okay.

It'll feel like a bath.

Rest.

Like honey on your tongue.

It is the comfort
we all long for.

The end.

Rest.

Rest.

Come.

Come.

I'll hold you, you rest now.

Stop, Armand.

- I'm cleaning up the mess.
- It doesn't need cleaning.

After what you've put me
through here, I deserve this.

I know.

But I need this one to live.

As a testament
to our companionship.

Of its endurance.

This boy to live out the night.

Are you asking, Maitre?

No, Arun.

I'm not asking.

Daniel?

Page 484.

"Listen as though I'm
the voice of God or an angel

talking to you.

Telling you this room
doesn't matter,

this night doesn't matter.

You're not inconsequential
or a junkie.

You're a bright young reporter
with a point of view.

There are stories
that need to be told.

If things ever get bad again,

these are the words you'll
hear in your mind like a tape

playing over and over,
like a song stuck in your brain.

These words will hold you up
and carry you.

They are your lifeline."

That's a free-baser
I befriended

for a few days at the drug den.

He told me
to get my shit together

and then he Richard Pryor'd
in front of me.

Everyone scrambled but I stuck
around, watched him burn.

What's always
confused me was that...

You know,
he said those words to me,

and he was already all burnt up.

Figured I'd conflated
the two events.

But I didn't.

Because it was you.

I destroyed two marriages.

I fucked up two daughters.

But I stayed a journalist.

I...

I was never so lost
I couldn't hold down a job.

We, I think...

gave you more drugs.

Distorted it all in your mind.

You woke up
in a drug den.

Fed you a truncated version.

- He bit you.
- He bit me.

- You blacked out.
- I blacked out.

You woke up in a drug den.

I woke up in a drug den.

- He bit you.
- He bit me.

- You blacked out.
- I blacked out.

You woke up in a drug den.

Armand fogged my brain.

Redacted himself,

which accounts for why
I didn't remember.

Yes.

And what accounts
for why you didn't?

I was disfigured.
I was in pain.

But you remember
right up until you bit me.

And I remember right
up until when you bit me.

And then both
our memories cut out.

Same precise edit on two brains?

How was your lunch?

Entertaining.

He made it all
the way to the Burj Khalifa.

How's Paris?

We paused Paris.

Reminisced about San Francisco.

And?

It started with Daniel.

He asked why
you saved him in 1973.

Hmm.

I could see
you were partial to him.

I preserve your happiness
even when you don't or can't.

- I had a hunch...
- I had a hunch...

Daniel might prove
fruitful in later times.

You're stronger.
I can feel it.

But you got to give up something
to get something.

Molloy:
You fear Armand.

You should fear
the other one.

Can you imagine me
without the burden of her?

Santiago: Today we're turning
a spotlight on ourselves.

Are you ready?

Johnson: Episode 5, "Don't Be
Afraid, Just Start the Tape,"

explains the past.

It explains the relationships,
and it explains the betrayal.

Armand: In high school, you told
a girl you'd only do her

if she had a paper bag
over her head.
Louis: Daniel.

She agreed,
and you did it.
Daniel.

What's in the bag?

O'Byrne:
In Season 1, we saw the...

Hello....original meeting
in the bar...

Hi....of young Molloy and Louis
in San Francisco.

Would you like
to join us?

With Armand there
lurking in the background.

No.

You go ahead.
Have your fun.

And now we're back
with that same trio.

Louis and Molloy have returned

to the apartment
in San Francisco, and...

I like what you've, uh,
done with the place.

...we see this interview
play out.

Are you
a real-estate mogul?

Oh, I'm a lot of things.

Re-creating 1973
was a lot of fun.

Those of us who know
something about that era

just sort of laugh at everything
from the clothes to the hair,

and every detail,
every prop,

every set dressing
has to be right.

Backgammon?

Old-timey fun
from the Sasanian Empire.

This went through
many permutations,

but basically
it's a beautiful

'70s backgammon board,

rebuilt to handle all the drugs,

all the-- the fun and games

that Louis is offering to Molloy
in the '70s.

It was actually the first thing
we shot this season.

It was like shooting
a little play, really,

'cause you're in the one set
for the whole time.

At first blush,
it is a one-off episode,

and yet it explains everything
that's happened up till then

and, more importantly,

everything that's
going to happen.

Does that scare you, boy?

It was really fun
to revisit that dynamic

with the younger Daniel.

So am I the first guy
that you brought back here?

It was amazing
to work with Luke,

having seen up close
Eric's Daniel.

Our first interview,
it's a fog.

I mean, it's the '70s,
all a blur.

Unbeknownst to me
when we met in New Orleans,

before we even started
shooting anything,

I didn't realize
that he was watching me

and planning a strategy on
how to play the younger me.

Some of the stuff
that Luke was doing,

I was like, "That's Eric.

That is-- That's Eric."

I'm a vampire.

Okay. I mean,
I'm really interested

to know why you,
uh, believe that.

Even when they first meet
in '73,

Louis has a real fondness
for Daniel.

Are those fangs?

He likes him.
He's cool.
Hi.

That's why Daniel lived
as long as he did.

First question.

You weren't always a vampire,
were you?

We have these two guys
in Dubai who,

with the help of the Talamasca,

they start trying
to piece together what happened.

Armand: We're all fine.

You don't know
what human life is like.

I mean,
you've forgotten, man.

I mean, you don't understand
the meaning of your own story.

Bogosian: It's intense.
It's intense for me.

Having watched it,

it then informs everything
that I am doing in later scenes.

I have a surprise for you,
kind of a curveball,

which will seem like
less of a surprise

and more like a... ambush.

Louis?

That's Armand
saving me.

The relationship
between Armand and Louis

was very up and down.

Louis, as much
as he wants to say

that this relationship cured him
of his malaise...

The 10 hours I spent
with that boy,

were more exciting,
more fascinating

than decades with you.

Clearly has
all kinds of problems.

Many of the same issues he had
when he was with Lestat

have resurfaced.

Lestat, Lestat,
Lestat, Lestat, Lestat...

Armand is always conniving.
He's always working.

And I think that's
also the tragedy of him

is that he can't ever relax
with the truth.

I'm remembering it now.

It's kind of
the biggest betrayal, isn't it?

When you choose to spend
your life with somebody,

you accept each other.

I can't think
of a bigger betrayal than lying

to that person
in such a significant way,

to the extent where
you would rewrite their history.

- Rest.
- Rest.

He said that to me, too.

It makes me angry now.

Armand is so wrong for that.

Don't.

He's just fine.

Don't.
Oh, he's fine.

You're fine.
This is fine.

We're all fine.

Stop, Armand.

Bogosian: We both discover
the depths of duplicity

that Armand has gone to and
what he's done to each of us.

O'Byrne: Up to this point,

the Molloy/Louis dynamic
is adversarial.

It is really this kind of
amazing moment

of connection
between the two of them.

Daniel: Like a song stuck
in your brain,

these words will hold you up
and carry you.

Bogosian: Jacob has said it.
Louis doesn't have any friends.

They are your lifeline.

And Daniel doesn't
have any friends.

So if they have any--
any friends at all,

maybe it's each other.

There's an odd couple for you.

classical music]