|Transcripts - Forever Dreaming
|01x02 - Brother, Can You Spare A Brain?
|Page 1 of 1|
|Author:||bunniefuu [ 03/25/15 13:29 ]|
|Post subject:||01x02 - Brother, Can You Spare A Brain?|
My name is Liv Moore, and I died, sort of. I had a promising career and a great fiance. Then I went to the world's worst boat party and got turned into a zombie. Now I work at the morgue for access to brains, but brain eating has side effects. I take on the victim's personality traits and have visions which I use to help solve their murders. I work with a detective who thinks I'm a psychic and my boss, the medical examiner, the only person who knows my secret. I'm a crime-fighting zombie.
Previously on iZombie...
Are you sure about being the only one?
It's one of the things that keeps me up at night.
That zombie, haunting my dreams, he's out there.
I'm saying it would be nice if just once he would call.
You know how he is when he's working.
No sense of time.
You missed a great dinner.
(Theme song playing)
Cause of death...
I assume we're going with drowning, correct?
So, he was a well-known artist?
Oh, his paintings are very popular.
Who doesn't love a vibrant, abstract nude?
Hint, she eats brains.
It looks like he was just trying to show off how many different colors of paint he owned.
Oh, I love his work.
I particularly enjoy the one that looks like a bright blue jacksy.
But I like my art provocative with a tinge of whimsy.
Okay, that's enough for now. Okay, Detective?
Ravi: Also, blue is my favorite color.
And I'm a bit of an arse man.
Got anything for me?
Based on the stiffness of the jaw and neck, I'd put the time of death between 6:00 and 7:00 P.M.
No defense wounds. No physical signs of struggle.
It's a straight shot from the orbital cavity to the carotid artery so death was likely instantaneous.
Like pushing an off button.
Well, stabbing an off button that's located behind someone's eye, using the handle of a paintbrush.
I'll know more when I get him back to the morgue.
And what about you?
Anything you'd like to share?
Is the crime scene inspiring, you know, any otherworldly communications or conjurings or what have you?
Wow. You're really a flip to the last page of the book type guy, huh?
You've been detecting for five minutes.
Oh, I know who did it.
It's the wife.
You think it was that sobbing woman crumbling to pieces on the patio?
She has an alibi, but it's always the wife.
Unless the wife is the dead one.
Then it's the husband.
I was just hoping something sparked your sixth sense, so we can expedite things.
Sorry. No sparking.
Detective, we're going to have to remove the paint brush in order to get him in the bag, so...
I got it.
I'll check back in later.
This fake psychic thing is going to bite me in the ass when he starts asking me for lottery numbers.
Fresh brains, anyone?
Liv: My need to feed on brains is weird, but how many people can say that satisfying their munchies could potentially help solve a murder case?
This is my contribution to society.
I'm just a fake, psychic zombie trying to do her part.
I was going to rename this "Major's Excuse to Come Over," but I'm trying to maintain an air of mystery.
No, but seriously, I figured after six months you were probably really missing your tiny face-sander thing and that magnifying mirror that makes pores look like manholes.
Thanks for leaving that behind, by the way.
You didn't need to do this.
No, it's mostly just hair products and lingerie, but there's some books.
Oh, and this...
Which might explain some things.
I'm thinking maybe this calls for a road trip.
I'm just, I'm just kidding around, Liv.
Yeah, well, I didn't know what to do with this stuff.
It felt weird to throw it out.
I mean, what if you had an emotional attachment to this textbook on rare skin diseases?
Well, thanks for bringing it by.
"Not Zooey Deschanel" in 7B took my parking spot again.
There is nothing more annoying than an entitled chick in a skater dress.
Oh, hi. Hey.
Should I not be here?
No, I, uh, I was just heading out.
I, uh, I also have an entire closet full of engagement gifts, so just let me know if you want anything, other than the panini press which I have already used and broken, and re-purchased.
Oh, we'll take the juicer.
I'll, uh, I'll drop it off this week.
Wait, didn't you register for a nespresso machine?
I can't believe you just asked Major for our engagement juicer.
Like letting him keep the small appliances is going to change the fact that you broke his heart.
He probably shouldn't come by here.
Why? Because it's too hard?
What does that tell you?
Want to grab a bite?
Liv: What's more meta than a zombie having a bad zombie dream?
No luck in my search for mystery zombie number two.
Unless you count my nightmares.
I've searched Instagram accounts of survivors, I've been through all the photos on the Facebook pages of everyone who was listed as being at the party.
Maybe you should take a break.
You know, chill out. Clear your mind.
"Hotter s*x Tonight. Five Easy Steps."
I stole it from the dentist's office.
Liv: Unless step one is "forget that you might turn your loved one into a zombie and just have at it," this is not the article for me.
It's why I can't have the man I planned on spending my life with doing drop-bys.
It hurts too much.
(Javier speaking Spanish)
(Javier speaking Spanish)
Is that shock at s*x tip four?
'Cause I didn't understand it either.
Javier was having an affair.
It was pretty hot.
Clive: So during this vision, did Javier happen to call out the girl's name?
No. He just called her his sugar flower, or his honey goddess.
Both sound better in Spanish.
She mostly talked about God.
And you didn't see who walked in on them?
No, but it was at the loft because I recognized the chaise in Javier's work space.
They were on top of it.
At one point, she suddenly arched her back, like some higher power was pulling her chest towards the heavens.
Her skin was like butter, and the way she moved...
Okay, I think I get it.
It was like watching a flower bloom.
Very helpful. Thank you.
Arching, blooming, then someone came in that you didn't see, but was probably Lola.
I didn't say that.
No. You gave me Fifty Shades of Psychic and no vital details.
Look, he was having an affair.
His wife caught him.
Like I said, it's always the spouse.
I'm going to head over and question her again.
You feel like joining me?
Maybe you'll have another vision.
Hopefully one that's less late-night premium cable.
She's a bit more calm right now, but...
It's going to be a long road.
Lola, Detective Babineaux is here.
I'm going to take off.
You call me if you need anything.
That's sugar flower.
From my vision.
With the buttery skin.
Sorry to interrupt you, Mrs. Abano.
I had a few more questions.
Of course. And it's Lola, please.
And this is my dear friend Tasha.
She's my favorite of all of Javier's lovers.
Lola: Artie and I wound up eating without Javier all the time when he was working.
He'd just get lost painting, or not want to stop if it was going well.
He was at the mercy of his creative flow.
Sounds like you were at the mercy of it as well.
I never minded.
I just wanted him to feel free to do whatever he needed to do.
I respected his process.
The other women, were they a part of his process?
Asking Javier to sleep with one woman for the rest of his life would be like asking him to paint those little seascapes on the novelty spoons they sell at the pier.
He had a way of, like, discovering people, and then sort of revealing them to themselves.
That is really beautiful.
Seriously, he sounds amazing.
Lola: The other women were not an issue.
I knew who Javier was with and what he was getting out of the relationship.
He knew all about my dalliances.
Nobody got hurt.
It's not like we had children to worry about.
Javier never wanted any.
His paintings were his babies.
Yeah, right. So, it didn't bother you that his babies were nude paintings of the women he was sleeping with?
It bothers me that you're being dismissive about my husband's art and our marriage.
Monogamy was not important to us.
What Javier and I had was beyond the physical.
How is it incriminating to say she didn't care who he slept with?
Uh, she cared.
That's just something they say.
Of course, I might've been paying closer attention than you.
You seemed a little distracted.
(Cell phone vibrating)
Plus, it's always the spouse.
An e-mail from your boss.
The paintbrush/murder weapon was thrust into Mr. Abano's eye socket at an angle consistent with a right-handed killer who was 6'2" or 6'3".
Does that mean Javier had two wives?
Because Lola is around my height, right?
So, if it's always the spouse, maybe it was wife number two that's the tall one.
I'm being totally serious now.
If you find a pair of foot-high stilettos in Lola's closet, can you ask her where she got them?
Liv, you're here. Fantastic.
This is Jimmy.
He is a police sketch artist.
I happened to run into him at the commissary, and we got to talking and...
Well, I mentioned your issue trying to locate a certain blonde gentleman.
I had a pretty substantial missed connection myself back in '05.
I'd be married today if those subway doors didn't close before I could get her number.
Okay. So, any defining features?
His lips were thin, but there was substance to them.
They kind of grew from his mouth, like a secret he couldn't keep.
So, thin lips...
Liv: But expressive.
In that they seemed to be working at not expressing anything.
There was something historic about his chin.
I think the nose needs to be more alert.
I thought you said it was soft and gradual, like a sand hill.
But with an alertness.
Like the whole bridge is working towards getting down to the point.
You need to see the foundation.
Oh. The foundation.
Got it. Great. (Clears throat)
See you later.
Am I right in assuming this is a new skill?
You said you were with Lola at the orchard restaurant from 6:00 P.M. to 9:30 P.M., when you walked her back to the loft and discovered Javier.
Three and a half hours is a pretty long time for dinner.
Not really. (Chuckles)
We spent a big chunk of the time waiting for Javier to show.
I'm not just Javier's art dealer.
We have all been friends for years.
And how close are you and Lola?
She's one of my dearest friends.
Nothing more than that. Not ever.
She's totally devoted to Javier.
Yeah, she did mention having dalliances outside of the marriage.
She didn't give any names.
Sorry, I'm having trouble processing that.
Javier was her entire universe.
Lola loved him unconditionally, while Javier slept with every model in Seattle.
You don't sound like a very big fan of your client.
Oh, I was a huge fan.
Some of the best times of my life were with Javier.
He was a brilliant artist.
Not a great husband.
How tall are you, Mr. Fiss?
You know, instead of grilling his friend, maybe take a look at one of the countless jilted boyfriends of the girls Javier slept with.
Thanks for the tip.
Now, are you going to answer my question or do I need to go get a ruler?
In elementary school, I could barely trace my hand to draw a Turkey.
Well, when you finish, I'll send it out to the boat massacre survivors.
You know, maybe someone will recognize him.
Why do we own this?
Because we saw it in the check-out line at Home, Hearth and Everything Else and it had the same color blue as our pillows.
Since when did you become an art critic?
The one and only time we've ever gone to a museum together was on our senior trip to Paris when we race-walked through the Louvre because it was raining and we wanted to do some cardio.
That's so awful.
No, it wasn't awful. It was fun.
Liv: In the six months I've been eating brains, I've inherited things like a fear of pigeons, kleptomania...
A couple scoops of Javier's brain in a microwave pizza roll and I find myself feeling passionate, inspired.
I'm not just drawn to beauty, I want to possess it, make love to it.
I walk into a room and I see everything.
Heard you were looking for me. just so we're on the same page here...
Your skin and hair being the color of chalk, that isn't a style choice, right?
And I have no idea where you got this, but it's totally my new profile pic.
What do you want with me?
I wanted to meet you.
Because I had a vision of you as a zombie, chasing a man through an alley.
You were about to rip open his skull.
He was killed in a DUI accident, wound up here.
I ate his brain.
Until the vision, I thought I was the only one.
Yeah, until, like, three seconds ago, so did I.
Getting your brains on the job. That's well-played.
Well, how do you get your brains?
Oh, I get mine the hardest way possible.
I should have gone into medicine.
I mean, come on.
Look at this.
That guy you saw me chase in the vision?
He tried to mug me, just so you know.
He came at me, so I raged out or whatever.
What are you calling that, by the way?
The big turn?
It's not like I've been mentioning it in conversation, but I think of it as raging out.
I don't know if we should agree on some terminology, or...
I guess I call it zombie mode.
Really? Aren't we already kind of in zombie mode?
Well, actually, I call it full-on zombie mode.
So, is raging out at all interesting to you, or...
You know what, never mind. It doesn't matter.
Uh, the guy tried to mug me, and I went into full-on zombie mode and, yeah...
Before I knew it, sirens were blaring and I'm still about to crack this guy's head open for just the tiniest taste of brain, which is the single most disgusting thing a person can eat.
That it is.
It's the consistency that kills me.
I can't get around it. And there's that weird metallic taste.
Is it metallic? I don't even know.
I used to be a serious wine guy.
Like, Sideways crazy about it.
And now everything I drink is like iodine.
I saw a kid eating a peanut butter cup last week and I almost cried.
I miss food so much.
I miss so many things.
Who knew death would be this isolating, right?
You really nailed the historic chin.
Thrilled to have you here.
And if you haven't used the facilities yet, a urine sample would be lovely.
I have zero clue as to how this happened to me.
Granted I was super high the night of the boat party.
It is so crazy to be talking about this.
Would you mind if I check inside your ears?
Brother, you do what you gotta to do.
I'll drop trou if you think you can cure this.
So how did you become a zombie?
Did it happen the night of the boat party?
Yes. It happened at the boat party.
You tried to sell me Utopium, smacked my ass, and went all rage zombie and clawed my forearm.
Oh, my God.
I can't even...
Are you sure it was me?
Because things must've been pretty crazy that night.
How do I even apologize for something like that?
I swear to God, if I wasn't 95% sure I would survive, I would throw myself off a bridge right now.
I would be...
I'm so sorry.
I never meant to hurt you.
Javier: Calm down, now.
We're all adults here.
Now I've ruined something you love.
Did you just...
Where'd you go?
There's something I gotta take care of.
You should get going.
Oh, Liv, I can finish up.
She doesn't want to leave you alone with me.
I'm not sure that was necessary.
Neither am I.
It wasn't Lola who caught Javier and Tasha fooling around.
It was Tasha's jealous boyfriend.
A jealous boyfriend, huh?
Artie may have been trying to deflect attention away from himself, but it's a lead worth following up.
Liv: There he is. Tasha's ex.
The one with the gleaming crystal eyes and the mouth that looks like it just finished eating a peach.
How about you just tell me what color shirt he's wearing?
What were you doing on Tuesday between the hours of 6:00 and 7:00?
I was at home. Alone.
How did that happen?
How tall are you, Mr. Rivera?
When did you first learn about...
Can I just ask a question?
Do you have a little native American in your ancestry 'cause those cheekbones...
I'm a quarter Cherokee.
Yeah, you are.
Do I need to ask you to leave?
When did you first learn about your girlfriend and Javier?
And I don't remember.
You don't remember discovering your girlfriend cheating on you?
I don't like to dwell on things.
Besides, she got what was coming to her.
Javier dumped her a few months ago for a younger version.
That's the kind of guy she left me for.
Someone who'll bang his best friend's 18-year-old daughter.
His manager's daughter?
It's a not-too-well-kept secret around the art community.
But you didn't hear it from me.
You gotta let me buy you a drink.
I need something in the win column today.
I think you need to set the bar a little bit higher.
Buying somebody a drink doesn't seem like much of an accomplishment.
That depends on how many guys you turned down before I got here.
So... (Clears throat)
What brings you here to drink alone and stare off into the top-shelf liquor on this fine evening?
Let's just say life takes some surprising turns.
Doesn't it, though?
If someone were to tell me a year ago that my life would be like it is today, I would've punched him in the face.
Listen, you're incredibly charming, but the age difference isn't something I'm into.
Well, that is a shame.
Because I am lonely as hell and the idea of trying to have a conversation with some 25-year-old as she swipes through tinder, makes me want to impale myself on that bar tap.
Well, there's no reason why we can't have a nice chat.
Sure there is.
(Knocking on door)
Come on in.
(Jazz music playing on stereo)
Hey, pod person who's taken over Liv's body, you really should've done some homework because no one is going to buy this.
Sorry. I was kind of in the zone or something.
I would literally be less surprised to come in here and find you building a rocket ship.
It's a new hobby.
This coming from the girl who said hobbies were for people under 12 or over 65.
When did I say that?
Repeatedly. Over the course of several years.
But I think you were just trying to talk me out of making my own outdoor furniture, which I still think I'd be kind of awesome at.
And, I'm sorry, are you listening to Chet Baker?
Is that who this is? I am loving him.
I tried to get you to listen to jazz for years.
I spent weeks strategically arranging the perfect mix CD for you and you stopped listening after two songs.
I think this is the CD.
You said you thought the lack of structure was narcissistic and you'd rather listen to someone dropping cutlery.
Why was I such a jerk?
Who knows? (Sighs)
It was just one of the many things I accepted because you're super-hot.
I'm kidding, to a degree.
If you're really liking this CD, I have a bunch of stuff on vinyl I could record for you.
I'd love that.
I should get going.
I was just dropping off the juicer.
There but for the grace of God, right?
Missed you at the zombie social last night.
We were all there cracking wise, singing some karaoke.
And I went with Tears of a Clown because that's kind of where I am right now.
Where's the good doctor?
He's out on a call.
I wasn't going to eat him.
You understand why I'm not ready to kiss and make up, right?
Yeah. I get it.
I turned you into a zombie, you saw me almost kill a guy.
I'm not the same person I was the night of the boat party.
At least I'm trying not to be.
It's not like I'm ladling out soup or saving puppies, but I'm actively trying not to be a sleazebag.
Because I was a sleazebag.
I'm not dealing anymore, much to the chagrin of my former employer.
And I've cut all the poisonous people out of my life, who were apparently the only kind of people in my life, so it's just me now.
Why are you telling me this?
Who the hell else am I gonna tell it to?
Plus, I need your help.
Look, I get that you work here at the brain automat, but for the rest of us, meaning me, procuring brains is kind of a massive undertaking. So...
I was hoping, from time to time, you might be so inclined as to help a brother out.
That pause was like a year.
I can't just hand brains over in the police morgue.
I'll have to meet up with you later.
Of course. I hang out at the dog-friendly Internet café on Queen Anne, Mutt Bowl Surfers.
I'll be there all afternoon just writing my screenplay live-tweeting its progress.
I'll come by later.
(Honking La Cucaracha )
What brings you to this fair part of the city?
Boss is looking for you.
He wonders where you've been.
Why don't you tell him I'll come by the club tomorrow night, huh?
He wants to see you now.
Yeah, now's not so good for me.
Are you really going to make Hutch get out of the car?
All right. All right.
Let's calm down, shall we?
Quit stalling. I want your ass in the car, now!
Well, it seems that our wants are at odds right now, Dougie.
You see, I want to attend to my business right now and I want to not go with you to a second location.
And I have to be honest with you, I'm feeling a little threatened here, and I find that disconcerting 'cause I thought we were homies.
You gonna help me out here, brah, or...
Okay, I'll tell you what.
Why don't you meet me here tomorrow...
I've cut all the poisonous people out of my life." get in the car you can either get in on your own or hutch can wad you up into a little ball and throw you in.
Crazy what happened on the lake.
The way you disappeared, everyone thought you was dead.
Well... they were half right.
Boss thinks that batch must've been cut with something lethal.
He thinks you might've been the one who did the cutting.
Is thinking really his strong suit?
But don't worry, when I'm running this city, I won't make the same mistake.
Yeah, and what mistake is that?
Underestimating the little guy.
You changed your hair.
That was a joke.
Can I come in?
Would you look at this place?
You've done very well.
Who knew there was so much money in trend-spotting?
You must be very good.
What's happening to me?
Oh, yeah, that.
Sorry. I buried the lead.
You're a zombie now.
Like, for real.
I know. Shock. Disbelief. Confusion.
Welcome to team Z.
Oh, you're the trend-spotter, I should ask you.
I heard we're finito. Is that, is that true?
Has over-saturation buried us?
I don't know. I think we're gonna surprise some people.
I mean, what did LL Cool J say?
"Don't call it a comeback," right?
But before you get to despair, Jackie, allow me to ease your mind. (Clears throat)
For a mere 25k a month, I've got the brains you need to keep all your pistons firing.
Sure, you'll need frequent spray tans and a considerably better colorist to do something with that hair, but other than that, (clears throat)
Death's gonna be swell.
Did I mention this batch is super fresh?
First rule of brain club, you don't talk about brain club.
There are some things worse than death.
Will you bring my checkbook?
So, I was wondering if you happened to exchange numbers with our new zombie friend.
I wanted to see if he can come in for more tests.
I don't think that's a good idea.
Under your supervision, of course.
And know that I do appreciate you being protective of me.
I think he's a liar.
And a phay. And I think he's just using me for my brains.
Well, their brains.
But if he's the only other one, I...
I don't know, Ravi. I don't know what to do.
I don't trust him. I think he's dangerous.
I was wondering if you're free tonight?
There's a posthumous art show for Javier's work at his loft.
I was hoping you could join me and see if you get anything.
I got some very helpful information from the waitress who waited on Artie and Lola the night of the murder.
She said Artie left the restaurant to go to an ATM.
Artie attempted to withdraw just down the street from Javier's and Lola's loft.
It was at 6:45 P.M., which puts him in close proximity to Javier and without an alibi during the window you gave me for the time of the murder.
What do you mean, "attempted"?
Oh, he wasn't able to take out any cash because he doesn't have any.
It goes beyond insufficient funds.
The man is broke.
He's basically living off credit cards.
Why would Lola cover for him?
I plan on asking her that very question tonight.
This art show...
I should probably come as well.
In case you need help with the art and the open bar.
And possibly the models.
You can have it, doc.
Don't mind if I do.
Woman: I absolutely loved the first painting, but who has that kind of money?
The instant Javier died the price of his paintings started going through the roof.
Even his older work is almost triple the price.
The best thing an artist can do for their career is die.
Dying is also the best thing an artist can do for his broke-ass art dealer.
I'm going to look for our hostess.
Let me know if you get anything.
So, what is it that you actually do?
Do you just stand there, or...
Oh, should I find some personal items for you to touch?
I kind of just walk around and hope something happens.
It sounds kind of lame now that I say it out loud.
No, it doesn't. Mmm-mmm.
No. You're on a quest for visions. A vision quest, if you will.
Stop enjoying yourself. It's unseemly.
Detective Babineaux. I didn't know you'd be coming.
Well, I had a follow-up question.
I'm wondering why you never mentioned that Artie left you at the restaurant to go to the ATM.
I guess I forgot.
How long was Artie gone?
I don't remember.
Not long. Twenty minutes?
And how long of a walk is it from the restaurant to your loft?
You're a detective, right?
I saw you come in with those other two detectives.
Well, technically, I do work for the Seattle Police Department...
My ex-boyfriend is here and he's not supposed to be.
I have a restraining order.
He's not allowed within 50 yards of me ever.
I'd leave, but I...
No, no, no, you shouldn't leave.
No, you should stay right here and we'll get this sorted out.
Can you, uh, point him out for me?
Liv: Javier not only left his art behind, he left a part of himself.
If I'd never come back from the lake that night, what would my loved ones have?
Would my mom frame old report cards?
Marvel over extra-credit projects?
I thought I saw you sneak in here.
I don't know if it's ironic or just brilliant, but Javier would've loved you.
And now he'll never get to lay a hand on you, will he?
I've been thinking about you ever since our interrogation.
I've heard of bad-cop, good-cop before, but bad-cop, horny-cop was a first.
How about we go grab a drink with the others and you can tell me all about how I objectified you?
I think I'd rather have you all to myself.
Javier: Oh, Becca. My darling girl.
A boy, Javier. We're having a son.
Tito, I should explain something to you.
I'm not the kind of girl you wanna mess around with.
I want to mess around with you.
It's a good one.
Well, looks like you're having a big night.
Javier's paintings selling for three times their previous value.
What's your cut?
And here I thought you were an art lover.
Oh, no, no, no. I love art.
On a policeman's salary, it is kind of tough to keep up my collection.
But I do have that one Vermer.
Excuse me, Detective. I'm gonna go somewhere you're not.
The extra cash has gotta help pay off some of those debts of yours.
And maybe now you can get 20 bucks from an ATM when you need it.
You seem to be suggesting I killed Javier for money.
He was my friend, Detective.
You were in love with his wife.
I believe Lola deserved better.
Maybe you killed him because he knocked up your teenage daughter.
What did you say?
Javier was like an Uncle to Becca.
Yeah, there was love there, but it wasn't...
Oh, come on. You expect us to believe you didn't know?
Did Javier seem like the Uncle type to you?
You found out that your best friend was going to be your son-in-law, and it was a bridge too far.
Hold that position!
The angle of the brush, it had to be swung from above Javier by someone taller, but if Javier was on the bottom step...
He stumbles backwards four or five paces and the blood splatter hits these steps.
The killer could've been Liv's size.
Are you sure about this pregnancy?
Lola, you told me Javier never wanted children.
You never mentioned whether or not you did.
You weren't covering for your friend Artie, were you?
Artie was covering for you.
The waitress at the restaurant wasn't sure what time you arrived, only that Artie left to go to an ATM.
You killed Javier before you even got there.
You found out he was going to have the baby and start the family he never had with you.
Artie: You knew about this?
And you didn't tell me?
Clive: And 20 minutes ago, Lola confided in me that you left the restaurant long enough to commit the murder.
I did not...
Artie: Lola! Stop!
When I got back from the ATM, there you were, 30 minutes late and practically hyperventilating.
I reached up with my napkin to wipe what I thought was red paint from your cheek.
When we found Javier dead, I knew it was you.
And you somehow knew I would cover for you.
You used me.
He was leaving me to start a family with an 18-year-old girl.
Clive: Lola Abano, you have the right to remain silent.
Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law.
You little albino tease! Look what you did to me!
There's a second pair of cuffs in my car.
You mind grabbing them for me?
I guess you were right.
It's always the wife.
Liv: Javier's brain shows me a view of the world that's brighter, more vibrant.
I can't let Lola diminish that view.
I'm not ready to go back to a world without that light.
I want this feeling to last.
I want to leave something more than impressive report cards to remember me by.
There is so much beauty in the world.
And that's all that matters.
The heart wants what it wants.
Who are we to deny it?
Apparently, that mix CD was a gateway drug.
I'm going to need a more substantial fix.
Oh, uh... okay.
Come on in.
Did you want me to lend you something or...
I want you to come sit with me.
Are you drunk?
I just want to be here with you.
Let's hang out.
You want to hang out?
Am I gonna come over there or are you gonna come over here?
I just think that you're being really weird right now.
Come sit with me.
I can't take another second of not being close to you.
I just can't.
What the hell, Liv?
You can't take not being close to me?
You've been icing me out for six months.
I did everything to try to get just one moment of anything even remotely affectionate from you.
You gave me nothing.
The day I came to drop off your stuff you could barely look me in the eye.
And now you can't take not being close to me?
You need to go.
No, just go, all right?
Liv: The passionate mind is selfish. It's so focused on what it desires, reason becomes background noise. Javier's brain made me cross the line that divides what I long for and what I can never have. There were so many nights I could have been with Major that I stayed home studying. Days I could have spent sucking the marrow out of life, I spent building a résumé for a life I'd never have. There were parts of me that were dead even before I became a zombie. So maybe that means it's possible for parts of me to spring to life, even now that I'm dead.
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