Scene 12, as originally conceived, was to be an exterior. Instead, it was shot inside of an arcade due to wet weather. As well, sound man Brian Fellers's Camaro was way cooler than the pick-up truck I'd originally conceived for Dillon.
Brooklyn leans on a weatherworn bust of a sombrero-wearing man the size of a compact car. She smokes a cigarette, thinks. She is sad.
Soon, a rusty Chevy pick-up truck pulls up alongside. It is Dillon. But he’s not wearing a ball cap anymore. He’s had a shower.
“Hey.”
“Hey.”
“You still wanna go out?”
“I guess.”
“We don’t have to.”
“No, I…I want to.”
“I mean…it’s looking like the pending nuptials have been put on permanent hold. I’d understand if you felt the need to bow out gracefully.”
Brooklyn smiles kindly.
“You have such a romantic streak, Dillon. I can’t believe you’ve never been married.”
“I’ve never met anyone like you before.”
Touched, she looks back toward the motel…shimmering in the cold night’s air. She skips around to the passenger side of Dillon’s truck, gets in. They drive away.
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