Did you see Marek? He actually managed to get his coat caught in the escalator at the station. He’s always been clumsy with moving machinery. I saw him last week, looking absolutely frazzled. Anyway, I've been so caught up with this new audit at the office, it's draining my mind. You look thin, Ivo. Are you even eating? Honestly, I don't know how you do it..
Marek always was a liability. He'd probably find a way to trip over a shadow eventually. As for me, I'm fine. I eat when I need to. The kitchen at the flat is still covered in dust, so it doesn't exactly inspire a banquet. You look like you haven't slept either, Hana. That audit sounds like a waste of time. Is it even even that important?
It's important because they pay me, Ivo. I can't exactly quit and have the luxury of just sitting in a dusty flat. And don't lecture me on sleep. It's easy to look rested when you're not staring at spreadsheets in a basement for ten hours. It's not fair. Besides, you're always so difficult. I was thinking about that cafe we used to like, the one with the terrible floors. Remember? Maybe we should get another drink? This place is freezing.
The cafe closed months ago, Hana. It's a pharmacy now. I don't know why you're so nostalgic for a place with sticky floors. And I'm not difficult, I'm just not pretending. If you're freezing, put on a jacket. I don't have the energy to chase you across the city for a drink. You're always complaining about the temperature. It's exhausting.
God, you're such a killjoy. I'm not complaining, I'm trying to be social for once. And if the cafe is a pharmacy now, fine, at least the floors are probably scrubbed with antiseptic. You don't have to be so bleak about everything. I was trying to make something of this, but forget it. If you want to sit there being miserable, I'm heading back anyway. I have a mountain of reports that won't finish themselves.
Go on then, run back. The basement is waiting for its spreadsheets. It's not bleak, it's just how things are. You always want everything to be a moment, a scene out of some movie. I'm not saying you stay, but I'm not going to beg you to stay either. I have things to finish here, and the sink is leaking again anyway. Close the door on the way out.
Fine, stay with your leaking sink. It fits the personality perfectly. You think being a realist is some kind of virtue, but it's just lazy. I was trying to bridge the gap, Ivo, but clearly you'd rather talk to a wall than a human being. Marek would have had more fun than you, and at least he had the energy to laugh at his own disaster. You just sit in it. I'm leaving. Don't bother calling if the flat floods.
Typical. Always bringing Marek up like he's some patron saint of optimism. If you want someone to laugh at your life collapsing, go find him. I'm not a wall, I'm just tired of the performance. The sink won't flood the flat, so you can stop being dramatic. Go back to your reports. I'll be here in the silence, which is much better than this anyway.
The performance? You're the one who showed up an hour late and didn't even have the decency to say sorry properly. Don't dare flip that. I'm not dramatic, you're being cruel. I'm trying to be here with you, and you find a way to make it feel like a chore. Fine. Enjoy your precious silence. It's clearly what you want anyway. I'm tired of trying to pull teeth out of you.
I was late because the train was stalled, and I'm not going to perform a scripted apology for something outside my control. You want a scene so you can feel better? It's not a chore, Hana, it's just the weight of it all. If being here feels like pulling teeth, then stop pulling. I didn't ask for you to be a martyr today. The door is right there. Don't let the frame slam on your way out.
The train is always the excuse, isn't it? It's so convenient for you to not care. You talk about "the weight of it all" like it's a shield to keep people from actually being present. I'm not a martyr, I'm the only one trying to keep the room from becoming a tomb. But fine, I won't slam the door. That would give you the satisfaction you crave. Stay in your silence. It's clearly your only friend now.
The silence doesn't demand anything from me. That's why I like it. You come in here with this energy and expect me to jump just to fill the air. It's not a shield, it's just a lack of interest in playing. If the room is a tomb to you, maybe you're the one bringing it. I'm tired of being the target for your frustration. Go to your reports. They don't talk back, do they?
They don't talk back, but they certainly don't make me feel like I'm invisible. That's the real problem, isn't it? You hide behind that lack of interest so you don't have to actually feel anything about yourself. You think you're so deep for being detached, but it's just pathetic. I'm going. I hope the sink keeps you company tonight. It's the only thing you can actually tolerate.
Pathetic. That's your favorite word when you run out of actual arguments. You think feeling everything is the only way to be human? Fine. I'm not hiding, I'm just not giving you the reaction you're hunting for. If you feel invisible here, then leave. The sink doesn't judge me, and it certainly doesn't demand an apology. Just go, Hana. I'm done with this for tonight.
I'm already at the door. You don't have to beg. You're so obsessed with being the victim of your own mood that you can't see how much you push away. It's exhausting, Ivo. Truly. I'd say I'm sorry, but we know you'd just find a way to critique that too. Have your silence. I have a life that actually happens.
"Life that actually happens." Right. A life of spreadsheets and Marek's clumsiness. You think you're the one pushing away, but you're the one demanding I be someone I'm not. Go on then, live your life. The door is already closed in my head, anyway. And don't worry about the sink. I've got it handled.
You've got it handled. Right. You've got everything handled until it rots away. It's always the same, isn't it? You let the world crumble just so you don't have to lift a finger or care. I'm done being the only one who notices that the scenery is disappearing. Good luck with the drip, Ivo. I'm sure it'll be as stimulating as you deserve.
The scenery was always disappearing, Hana. That's just how time works. You think you're the only one noticing, but you're just the only one making a noise about it. Go back to your world. I'm tired of your metaphors and the implication they have some power over me. I'll be here with the drip. It's more honest than this. Just close the door.
Honest. You call rotting honest? That's typical of you. You're so in love with your own stagnation that you can't recognize a lifeline if it hit you. I'm closing the door now. Don't expect me to check back when the silence finally gets too loud for you. I have things to do, actually. Goodbye, Ivo.
Goodbye. You talk about lifelines like you're some hero, but you're just looking for an exit free of the drama. The silence isn't getting loud, it's just getting quiet like it should. Go do your things. I'll have the sink fixed by the time you decide to bother me again, if that ever happens.
You'll fix the sink? Right. You can't even fix a lightbulb without a lecture on the entropy of the universe. It's just a pipe, Ivo. Stop acting like every plumbing issue makes your isolation feel more dignified. I'm not going to bother you again because I'm tired of being the audience for your martyrdom. Enjoy your quiet apartment. It fits you perfectly.
It fits because I don't have to perform for every person who walks in. You call it martyrdom, I call it peace and quiet. I can fix a pipe because it's a task, not an emotional crisis. Go back to your life and the ringing in your ears. The apartment is quiet because you're the source of the noise. Now that you're leaving, finally.
The source of the noise. God, you're so self-absorbed. You think my presence is a disturbance because you want to shrink into your little corner. It's not peace, Ivo, it's a vacuum. I'm leaving, and I'm taking the noise with me. I hope the silence is as deafening you wanted. Don't actually bother calling the plumber.
I don't need a plumber. I'll use the wrench. You're always so dramatic about the vacuum—it's just a room, Hana. And take your noise and go; it's the most sensible thing you've said all night. The silence isn't deafening, it's just empty of your constant critiques. Which is exactly what I need. Goodbye.