Summertime Sadness

Lacey is mad.

“It’s because she can’t handle that Lem was gay.” says a hater.

“No! She is totally fine with me marrying Michael for eternity, should God permit it. Even condone it. …I think she just can’t see Lem and I together.” says a gay man with glasses who resembles Harold Loeb. Lacey has always thought he was good-looking and intelligent. “But at any rate, I think she just doesn’t like Jack.”

“Why?” asks a witch of Lacey.

“I don’t know. …I think I love the Kennedy’s but when it comes to certain things…they irritate me a lot. And I just can’t handle it anymore.” says Lacey.

“Like what?” asks the gay man.

“You seem somewhat authentic. …When it comes to romantic love…unless you’re Jackie or Ethel…or Pat or Rose or maybe the secretary Janet…or etc…I just can’t stand them being with almost anyone right now.” says Lacey.

The gay man nods his head.

“They’re frauds. Manipulative narcissists.” says Lacey. “Or they have been.” She thinks. “They use whatever they can to fool people and get their way when it comes to love. And I just don’t have patience for it anymore. It’s too much.” She thinks. “I feel bad for them. They tend to shot themselves in the foot maybe… But…it’s disgusting how much romantic love they’ve gotten so fervently from good people for decades when they tend to just use it to turn around and hurt someone.” She thinks. “Of course I never dated anyone younger than Joe’s generation in that family. But I’ve heard the other generations have been difficult to deal with at times too? Or no? They’ve improved?”

“See, that’s the thing. When you talk to Lacey you have to keep in mind that it’s not likely to be easily accessible, albeit well explained. Her hatred is not of gays. It’s of our blindness to other people’s evil for the sake of group power. …She has a problem with Jack not the possibility of Lem or Michael being homosexual if it’s allowed in Heaven. Or she has a problem with our quick categorization of them as gay and not bisexual or pansexual.” says the gay man. “Or both.”

“Sorry old money isn’t always evil.” says a Jerome Hill.

“Sorry, I’m in love with Lacey. For eternity.” says Lem.

“Or Michael or Louis or Elliott…or Harold Loeb…or possibly a few others she’d not expect…will be with her. Likely Michael. Or me.” says Louis.

“I think…you’ve got to remember she’s shocked. …Louis was kind of a big deal. Really. …And…she can’t believe he even existed. He’s like her absolute ideal. …And…same with the others in a way. I think…we forget that. …It’s not that she’s clinging to Lem for some stupid reason. She’s not trying to make him straight or bi. Really… She has other options. …It’s…that she has issues with our evil.” says the gay man.

A hater laughs with seeming righteous indignation. “She’s an ugly, fat, stupid, horny old cow.” she says matter-of-factly.

“What if that’s not actually true?” asks a gay man in the media.

“Then I’m a fat, ugly old cow.” she says.

“Why?” says Lacey.

“Because. That’s what you’d think of me. …And you’re wrong.” she says.

“I don’t even know you at all.” says Lacey.

The female hater thinks. “But you’d be the kind of person to tell me that. I can tell.”

“You don’t know me at all. But also, are you fat? I have a feeling you are. Are you ugly? I doubt it… Are you horny? I get the sense you are. Dumb? Mmm… Doubt that too.” says Lacey.

She thinks. “Fat? Really?”

“You seem overweight. In my head I see an overweight woman.” says Lacey.

She thinks. “Fine. It is overweight. But it’s not like…fat.”

“You carry your weight well. It’s still more than you should probably have though.” says Lacey. “Or you’re fat?”

“Would I really look that much better weighing less?” asks the woman.

“Not astronomically better. But you might feel more energetic?” says Lacey.

“See…that’s the thing. I think I look good heavier.” says the woman.

“You do. But you’d look slightly better? Or at least it’s healthier.” says Lacey.

“Am I dead or alive?” asks the woman.

“If you’re dead does God want you to lose weight?” asks Lacey.

“Yes.” she says. She sighs. “If I’m dead. I do eat too much for emotional reasons. Possibly.”

“But I bet looking good heavy makes it difficult to lose weight psychologically.” says Lacey.

“Yes. But…if it’s really like that in the afterlife with God…stuff like that matters.” she says.

“See…I regularly wonder what I need to fix. But…I don’t get far.” says Lacey.

She sighs and looks sad and nods. “You might need to learn to be more…good to yourself.”

“Fair enough. …Actually, that’s the problem I have with these men. I can’t figure out who’s best for that reason.” says Lacey. “I love Lem…but Michael does a better job loving me. And Louis…is there for me. Harold is too in a way. And none of them are really ideal in how they’ve pursued me. So…”

Carmen by Lana Del Rey plays.

“I’m the opposite of Carmen.” says Lacey. “But I still empathize with the character.”

“We’re not.” says Joe Sr..

“Do you empathize with her?” asks Lacey.

“No.” says Jack.

“Can you love a non Carmen who loves a Rockefeller who’s dead?” Michael asks Lem.

“I’m not Holly Golightly.” says Lacey.

“What would you have done in her situation?” asks the gay man of Lacey.

“Become a nurse. Or a teacher. Or a secretary. …Or joined the military if I was physically strong enough.” says Lacey.

“Which branch?” asks a man.

“Something fascinating. Maybe the Navy or Army.” says Lacey. “But I’m such a wimp.”

“You’re very feminine too.” says a man.

“Yes. …I’d probably have become a teacher or nurse for that reason. I’d never have imagined it was reasonable to go into politics or art…“ says Lacey.

“Nothing fancy?” he asks.

“Maybe med school if I took to nursing.” says Lacey.

A gay man laughs.

“So you’d be a cold as ice, golden hearted, tough doctor. Unmarried. Hardworking. Tired. …Super independent.” says the gay man to Lacey.

“Yes. I relate to Holly Golightly. I care about her. But…in that case I also know that I can’t be that careless.” says Lacey imagining her life.

“Would you have written?” asks a hater. “Or collected perfume.”

“I would have wanted to. But knowing myself…I’d have given-up on that part of life. It’s lighter without it.” says Lacey. “And survival is survival.”

“So would you or wouldn’t you have?” asks The Loudest Perfume Hater.

“I’d have a bottle of Coco Mlle. and one old bottle of Chanel No. 5. Maybe old Shalimar. …That’s it.” says Lacey. “I’d wear Coco Mlle.”

“Where would you live?” asks The Loudest Perfume Hater.

The Next Episode plays.

“Anywhere that paid me well and had a good work environment.” says Lacey. “A hospital would be fascinating.”

“What would your speciality be?” asks The Loudest Perfume Hater.

“I think it’d be fascinating to work in an ER if I’d grown-up like Holly Golightly.” says Lacey. “Seeing that trauma would feel familiar and would help me process through my own life?”

“It’s so stressful though.” says The Loudest Perfume Hater.

“But I wouldn’t have a life.” says Lacey. “Work would be my entire life.” She thinks. “I might have friends, but work would be my first priority outside of my hopeful faith.”

“Would you have a nice house?” asks The Loudest Perfume Hater.

“I’d spend my money very carefully.” says Lacey. “I’d probably live in some gated community and have a great maid and chef.” She thinks. “But I’d be very leery of spending too much on things that didn’t make my life truly better or easier.”

“No boyfriends?” asks the gay man.

“No. I’d never expect to be loved.” says Lacey.

National Anthem plays.

“That’s an awful life.” the Native American woman says to Lacey.

“But life often shit for many people. It’s a cruel world.” says Lacey. “It’s a fallen world.” She thinks. “We are either happy by some fragile margin we don’t understand…or we fight.”

“And in your mind Carmen is fighting?” asks a female hater.

“Yes. It’s not…safe. But she’s…suicidal?” asks Lacey.

“Probably.” says a gay man.

…”What if Jack was suicidal?” asks another gay man.

“He may have been.” says Lacey. “He may also have been a raging, narcissistic idiot.” She thinks. “Or both.”

“You really don’t think any doctors would have fallen in love with you?” asks the gay man.

“Doubtful. If I’m the same person.” says Lacey. “I may be unusually beautiful and attractive but no. They’d likely have seen me as kind of sister.”

“Even though you’re straight?” asks The Loudest Perfume Hater.

“Yes. I’m terrifying to love. I don’t know why.” says Lacey.

A gay man erupts in laughter.

“No kids?” asks the Native American woman.

“I’d have been scared to have kids. Maybe I’d have had one or two.” says Lacey.

“Lacey I think those dead men are possessive of you.” says a group of gay men.

“Should we exist after death. Yes! They clearly want to interact and God is using that to comfort you. In my opinion. …It’s actually beautiful.” he says.

The Quality of Mercy by Max Richter plays.

Gnossiennes (6) by Erik Satie plays next.

“I think should Michael exist, he understands you. Very much.” says Rocky.

“You’re more Sam than Jack.” says Michael.

“That makes sense.” says Lacey.

“You’re so vulnerable.” says Lem to Lacey.

Chemtrails Over The Country Club plays.

“You won’t play…you’re no fun.” Lana sings as the song plays.

“That’s why I wouldn’t date. As a doctor.” says Lacey. “I would never trust anyone enough.”

He looks pale. Sits in her hospital. In a chair.

Louis laughs at him. Michael tries to be helpful…with the staff. Harold looks looks at Lem with disdain from a distance.

He feels like weeping.

“Why is Louis laughing?” asks the gay man.

“I’m not a nice man. I don’t have love for men who are cowards. And who act like cheap shit.” he says, fuming to Lacey to pass along. “He’s not going to be able to keep faking this. He was just a fool for allowing himself to get so jealous.” He thinks. “Hey! Wanna see my Dad’s shit?” he asks Lem facetiously. “My granddaddy had a big ol’ house too!” He thinks. “There’s a cow you could fuck on a farm. Ever been molested by a farm animal? That could be confusing too.”

“Animals don’t rape humans or if they do it’s not the same as being raped by a man.” says Lacey.

“I know. I just can’t stand his crass, foolish attitude. He doesn’t understand even now how offensive he is.” says Louis.

He stops crying. Starts laughing.

“He truly doesn’t understand?” asks Lacey.

“Look, he’s not anywhere near protective enough of you. You truly are that sweet and correct most of the time. If you’re wrong he needs to help you…not just feel self-righteous and hurt.” says Louis.

“I am still trying to fathom it.” says Lem.

“Fathom her fascination with other men? It’s not even real. Lem it’s just men who are alive who remind her of us or she’s finding her actual soulmates.” says Louis.

“But they’re not me.” he says and then feels stupid. He closes his eyes. “I did screw-up. That’s why I’m crying. …You were trying so hard to be objective. And I understand that. It’s just terrifying to realize how vulnerable you are…”

“Not with me.” says Michael.

“True.” says Lem. “She’s not…easy. But she’s so caring.”

“Why wouldn’t she be?!” Lem’s father yells.

Lem agrees.

“If you really are that vulnerable, I’m sorry.” says The Loudest Perfume Hater.

“No. Not in every way.” says Lacey. “There are different kinds of vulnerability.” She thinks. “Or ways to be vulnerable.”

“Were you vulnerable romantically Lem?” asks a perfume hater.

“Yes and yet not as much as you.” Lem says to Lacey. “I wouldn’t fall for people the way you do. And I don’t.”

Lacey sighs. “Then what was Jack?!”

“Jack was never my official boyfriend. I never married Jack. I never gave him my whole heart. …I gave him an enormous amount of time and energy. And I felt for him. I cared. …I didn’t truly love him though. …I tried to. But…our pseudo reality felt comfortable to me. I didn’t long for something deeper.” says Lem.

Your pseudo reality?” says Lacey.

His father laughs in parental exasperation. Closes his eyes.

“I meant the fake relationship we had that he may have thought was more…was workable for me.” he says. “It sadly didn’t raise alarm bells for me until I got older.” He thinks. “I was very…picky. And…romantic. And…I just thought I was gay and content enough.”

“Content?” asks Lacey.

“Yes. Like…real love was…rare. And ordinary love was dull. Ordinary. But…worth it? Just…company.” he says.

“Company?” she asks.

“Yes. Just someone to spend time with.” he says.

“Spend time with?!” she says.

“Yes. Go fishing with. Play golf. …We did engage in homosexual acts I was actually quite cold and distant about. I…hated them. He claimed to need them. …I was his supporter. Not the other way around.” He thinks. “But I…I thought sex was not necessarily normal for gay men. And…more of a…weird thing. Like…I gave him my virginity and youth. And he gave me a lot of love. …And…I felt sorry for myself. Because I thought I was cursed to live less of a life as a gay man, never being able to rightfully love a woman… But…he was someone to do things with. Regularly. Consistently.”

“Do things with?” asks Lacey.

Michael laughs. Louis looks upset.

Lem looks anxious.

Desmond nods in understanding of Lacey’s perspective. He rolls his eyes and throws back his head.

Lem smiles. “You don’t want someone to do things with?” he asks her.

“I gave up on that at age 3.” says Lacey. “People were too difficult.”

Jack looks worried suddenly.

“But you had friends?” he asks.

“I tried to. But I didn’t have such lofty expectations.” she spits.

Louis laughs.

“Do I seem like a spoiled, selfish, sheltered, lying asshole?” Lem asks her.

“That’s a nice way of putting it.” she says.

His eyes widen. Jack, in another room, looks increasingly nervous.

“There’s holes. Why did you follow him around mindlessly if you didn’t love him? The money?”

His father nods in understanding of her perspective. Louis laughs harder.

“No! And no, I didn’t love him-“

“You tried to?” says Lacey.

He begins breathing faster. Louis laughs more.

“She can’t fathom it. Truly.” he says. “And expecting her to is nuts! …You can’t expect her to be loyal to an intimacy you possibly haven’t even created between the two of you.”

“So you think I’m lying? Or a demon.” says Lem. “Or you worry.” He thinks. “I didn’t love him. It wasn’t about the money. …I just kept being called upon. Possibly because he loved me. And…I tried to be a man. Faithful to my first lover, at least. …I tried to date other men. But…he always needed me and I felt slutty saying no.”

“Like…you were married to him?” says Lacey.

“Yes. And I knew he loved me more. Secretly.” he says.

“Ok. So…the whole point was to be nice?” asks Lacey.

“Well…and have some form of companionship. Some…friendly activity. It was never sexual or romantic in nature in most cases. At least, not to me.” he says. “I was always shocked when he took it that way. …Or appalled. …I’d flirt to embarrass him. Because he always seemed so gay but very closeted about it. And I thought it’d make him uncomfortable but also comforted. …And he’d not take it as a gentle reproach but a serious come on.”

“And then he’d rape you.” says Lacey.

“Yes.” says Lem.

“And you felt that was normal?!” asks Lacey.

“Yes. It all started with me being molested. …I just thought I was sexually messed-up.” he says.

Silence.

“And Jackie was…in love. And…maybe they could be happy.” He thinks. “But Jack ‘needed’ me right from the start.”

“So you secretly always felt imposed on?” asks Truman.

“Yes.” he says, nodding.

“And yet you thought you loved him?” asks Lacey.

“Yes, I thought love was…about submission and restraint and chance. Mere chance. Natural selection. …Just…whoever was there. When you came of age. Whoever you had fun with. …Nothing of longing or depth. …And then at times I wondered if I’d just been used. And…I hated my jail wardens. …I felt Jack had ruined my life being so secretly possessive and moody and violent.” he says. “Moody? Yes. He could throw violent fits if I didn’t do what he wanted. It was scary. I never felt he’d leave me truly alone.”

Michael looks at Lacey kindly. She feels exhausted.

“You’re not like that at all.” Lem says.

She smiles kindly. Patronizingly. To hide her problems.

“Gee Lem. Think you’ll get laid tonight?! And if you do…will it mean anything you want it to mean?” asks Louis.

“No! And you know what? Why don’t you explain to Lacey my life?” Lem asks Louis. “She trusts you.”

“I’ve tried to be helpful.” says Louis.

Lem nods. Looks upset.

Lem closes his eyes. “Or why don’t you two explain her to me?” he asks.

“Because you’re far too busy being Jack’s friend to be free enough in her mind.” says Michael. “She can’t fathom you’d want to even know. You never have been as ‘close’ to her as you were to Jack.”

Lem cries. Sighs.

“You truly fucked up your entire life.” Louis says to Lem.

Lem cries harder. But then grows thoughtful.

“You can’t expect her to be such an idiot.” says Louis. “And to me that’s what it is. You want her to suddenly be an idiot for you.”

He purses his lips together. Thinks.

“And I’ve tied my hands behind my back being jealous.” he says.

“The way you’ve been so cold.” says Lacey. “Withholding yourself.”

“I just look guilty and gay.” he says, still coldly. It enrages Lacey but she agrees bitterly.

He realizes he’s upsetting her. He throws-up.

“Shoot!” he says.

She stares at him. He’s making progress.

“Look, I’m sorry I let you sleep with other men.” he says.

“You didn’t care. You were off on a lark!” she says.

A few moments later.

“Who suggested Lacey for Joe?!” asks an Illuminati member.

“I did.” says Shakespeare, either seriously or facetiously. If seriously then possibly to Joe himself.

“I wasn’t.” says Lem. “But I seemed that way.” He thinks. “Or I seem that way permanently.” He thinks. “I’d never have let you be a doctor.”

“Why?” asks Lacey.

“Would you cheat on Michael?” he asks.

Louis sighs.

“Not if Michael was faithful. Never.” says Lacey. “Or you either.”

Michael smiles.

“But I couldn’t let you. You’d be too vulnerable. Men might have found ways. You’d be surprised.” he says.

“Like they did with you? Or like you tolerated otherwise?” says Lacey.

“No!” he says. “Like Michael is doing right now.”

“Like you’ve seen?” says Lacey.

“No.” he says patronizingly but then regrets. “No.” he says almost apologetically.

“You really think I’m that easily manipulated?” she asks.

“When it comes to love. And…in a way you’re almost invincible. But…you don’t understand your real weaknesses.” he says. “I just think you’re too kind. And you assume a total lack of interest from the man or honesty.” He thinks. “You would never assume that someone would play games. Just to get love. Or an upper hand.” He thinks. “I was entertained by Jack. And bullied. And mostly I felt sorry for him. …But you fall in love.” he says. “Not out of disdainful pity. Out of fascinated empathy. …If you’d been me…Jack would have never have been President. He’d have been…an openly gay socialite. And Bobby would have been President.” He thinks. “And Jack would have written self-help books about open marriage based on being with you. And then he’d have gotten AIDS. …And everyone would have thought you were a sociopath. Because you’d have moved on when he died. Quickly. To a woman who wouldn’t have worked out.” He laughs. “But…they’d hate you. Hilariously. Because they theoretically shouldn’t.”

“Why?” she asks.

“Because you’re right. And you actually fix things. That are broken. And it scares people.” he says.

“Would Jack have been happy?” asks The Native American woman.

“With Lacey? He’d have grown-up.” says Lem. “He’d have had to face himself.”

“And Bobby’s Presidency?” asks the Native American woman.

“It’d have felt like ten years. Even it was just eight.” says Lem.

Pyramid Song plays.

“So why isn’t Michael scared, Lem?!” asks a Greenberg.

“Because Michael refuses to be scared. And…” he trails off. “Michael is terrifying.”

“So was Louis.” says a woman.

“Lacey feels loved easily by scary but non-evil men.” says a hater, laughing.

“She trusts them too.” says a dead Rockefeller.

“So they see a female version of themselves in her?” The Loudest Perfume Hater asks. “Like a soulmate or a daughter?”’

Kill Bill plays SZA plays.

“I wasn’t possessive. That’s a misunderstanding. …It was the other way around. I was…angry. And hurt. …I felt miserable and used. …But yes.” he says. “Possibly.”

Gilded Lily plays.

“And that’s problem. They’re never normal men.” says Lem. “They’re always incredibly difficult. And I respect them. But…they’re not easy men. …And it’s helpful. They’re wonderful men. They’ve been helpful. …But…she loves them. She truly loves them.” he says. “And I deserve it.” He thinks. “But I also know how much I love her. And…it’s possibly my fault she doesn’t. …But…she doesn’t.” He thinks. “No, it is my fault if it’s because of my sin.” He thinks. “And I can’t imagine screwing-up this much. If we’d been married. But…I’d worry.”

Silence.

“Michael scares her. Or what? He loves her better? Even if I’m better.” says Lem.

“How?” asks Rocky.

“He possesses her.” says Lem.

“In a beautiful, calming way.” says Lacey.

He thinks.

“Like you possessed Jack.” Michael stings him by saying in harsh truth.

“Did you mean to possess Jack?” asks his mother.

“No.” says Lem.

“But you did, if this is you and you’re not lying.” says Lacey. “You had his love. Deal with it.”

“I had it for my whole life!” he says, sarcastically.

She smiles at him.

He looks at her sexually.

“That’s the thing. If I possess you it’ll be so sexual.” he says objectively.

“So completely.” says Lacey, thoughtfully. “But you know…I think that’s what Jack thought he had with you.” She thinks. “Or that’s what we think he had.”

“And I could too.” says Michael.

“With Lacey or Jack?” laughs a witch.

“Be careful and only trust God.” says Lacey. “But I think he means me and is being funny.”

“Lacey.” he says smiling.

Joe Sr. rolls his eyes.

“Jack…did you like actual sex?” asks a man.

“No.” he says sadly. “I was actually very bad at it.”

“That’s true.” says Scott.

“Like you were sloppy and distant?” asks Lacey.

The Marriage of Figaro plays.

“No. It’s true.” says Lem with a sigh about his possessions.

“I was!” says Jack to Lacey.

“You were?” Lacey asks him.

“Yes!” he says. “Not with Lem. But with most people.” He thinks. “I was…a sexual charlatan. And some people called me a predator and do. But I…was…cruel.”

“Why were you a party to that evil?” Lacey asks Lem.

“Out of blindness to the truth about life. And love. And…to me he seemed ordinary.” he says. “Extremely rich. But ordinary.”

“So you truly thought love was…nothing.” says Lacey.

“Most often.” says Lem.

“Then why bother?” asks Lacey. And at that Michael smiles. He smiles because this is his moment to explain what they have.

“Which you fuck? You duck Jesse! My dog barks.” says an Illuminati hater. They fart. They try to make Lacey cry.

Say Something plays.

“Walk! Don’t run!!” says a Z-Wobbly.

“What?!” says Lem.

“See…violence is our Satan method. We’re brilliant.” says Mr. Blue.

“You all sound…genuinely retarded.” says Lacey.

“As I was saying, I would like to explain our love.” says Michael.

“They want Jack to be a real sex God. Who was…mind blowing. And had my worship in bed. In my own little private Heaven where I got to suck his dick like a lucky duck.” says Lem. “Because as rich and glamorous as Jack was…he made a room for little ol’ me.”

“Or rather in my administration…there was a room for my wife’s sexually aroused other half. So at night I’d creep into his room and not sleep with him…but be reminded of death. And evil.” says Michael. “I’d stand at the door and watch him long for her. Crying that she wasn’t there.” He thinks. “Then I’d go greet the First Lady who I never took to. And conceived two children with via surrogate.” He raises his eyebrows. “She was my second wife. My first died of…sadness. During WWII.” He thinks. “She thought I was dead so she jumped out of skyscraper.”

“And in Camelot. Did you have mistresses?” asks a witch.

Mozart Concerto For Flute plays.

“No. But many women couldn’t handle my glamour when I took off my glasses and threw themselves at me. …And considering my loneliness and virility I did once beguile Marilyn Monroe. For a short while. …But…even with my admonishment of her loose behavior as a good God fearing Christian…she persisted in her fallen behavior and chose death. Poor dear girl.” says Michael.

“We’re wondering Michael what your success rate was as President?” asks a Democrat.

“I did well at Harvard. And excelled in certain sports. I was a fit, good-natured, sexually voracious albeit fastidious fellow…and as such I succeeded with my great American endeavor.” says Michael.

“You sound like a hot, 20th Century version of Teddy Roosevelt.” says a historian.

“Hmm. But I was Jack. Not me. In this case. So…” he says.

“So you didn’t say, ‘Hey! Your sexuality is cool with me! You can be gay! I’m gay. Do whatever you want.’” says a gay Democrat to Lem.

“No. I did not! …I just didn’t want to suck his dick myself. And…he’d get violently angry if his dick wasn’t sucked. And I felt he was my responsibility. …And…the women were his preference. And I thought they might be good for him too. Maybe help fix his homosexuality… And I thought they were whores who enjoyed it. Not the sort of girls who one would marry. …And…no. It was a relief to have them do it for him. I hated being sexual with him. That’s not the story people tell about me. …But I did. …And he felt he needed it. …Needed. Or he’d feel what? Sad? Alone? Unloved? Depression? …In a dead end relationship with me? Why wasn’t I enough? Or at least more? Why did he have this need for sex with so many people? …It’s not polyamory and it wasn’t just homosexuality like I thought. It’s oblivion. He used drugs too. Often. …And he hated being open about most things. …I also think I secretly enjoyed the thought of him having heterosexual sex. I didn’t want such anonymous sex. But…I liked the idea of it. It was like…vicarious sex.” He thinks. “You know what’s irritating and irresponsible? The way you act like it makes sense to claim I was really jealous and possessive about all male relationships with Jack…but didn’t give two shits about all women. How I passionately dated other men but…killed myself over Jack? …I wasn’t some sort of absurd misogynist. Or romantic hypocrite either. …Why do you think you know what you’re talking about?”

“You’re wrong! We’re God! Grow-up!” the gay Democrat says to Lacey. “That’s not him. He loved Jack. Charlie told me. At school the other day. Charlie B. And he knows.”

“Did Charlie see Jack and Lem?” asks Louis.

“No! But everyone knows. Everyone!” says the Democratic leader.

Silence.

“Your kids are lucky.” he says.

“I’m trying to kill you.” says Mr. Blue to Lacey.

Everyone is sick yet again and she often feels like she’s being suffocated or choked. …She assumes it’s in her head but then her foot moves as if being pushed. They hate when she eats pizza. Not because she’s a pedophile but because they are trash humans…and deserve to go to Hell and it’ll be by the mercy of God they don’t.

“Yeah right! You dumb bitch! I’m God!” says a pedophilic hater who organizes demons to attack Lacey.

“Are you sure it’s you? Or your handlers you’re scared of?” asks Lacey of Mr. Blue.

But then Lacey wonders.

If something can literally move her foot against her will…it points to demons.

“So…you’re trying to kill me now why? Because I’m pointing out that you’re all idiots? And you have the emotional capacity of demon possessed worms? Or what?” asks Lacey. “You’re hoping to let the homosexuals take the rap for the truly evil?”

“Like it looks like you pissed off homosexuals today?” asks a gay man.

“Yes. And I either did and you guys really are that sold out and evil or the what? The pedophiles are too brain dead to understand what they’re doing and would be far better off dead?” asks Lacey. “Are you mad about the earthquake? Or what?”

“Do they realize how dumb what they’re doing is?” asks a Charismatic.

“No. Because they’re in denial. And they are banking on death being final. They think teleportation or telekinesis or aliens can account for the supernatural. They are true idiots.” says Lacey.

“They genuinely are clinging to atheism even while worshipping Satan.” says a perfume hater.

“I think it’s because of Jack. I think they really are that pathetic.” safe a perfume hater.

“How so?” asks another hater.

“Because they have a stupid need for Jack to be a straight so-called sex god who made a rare exception for Lem.” says another hater. “And they’re too lazy and weak and pampered to handle reality.”

“Haha!” says a female perfume hater sarcastically.

“No! I’m dead serious, sweetie. Grow-up. People sometimes really are that gross and stupid.” says a Swedish perfume hater.

Gilded Lily plays.

“What does Zelensky think of you?” asks a perfume hater.

“He’s unsure. I’ve tried to arrange safe passage for him. …Because Putin is possibly winning.” says Lacey. “And Putin needs him for leadership purposes.”

“Lacey, that’s not that big of a deal to share that. Right?” asks Michael Rockefeller.

“It’s common sense.” says Lacey.

“So Putin in winning?!” asks a perfume hater.

“That’s what they say.” says Lacey.

“Huh.” says a perfume hater.

“Lacey…would they have secured safe passage for Zelensky if you hadn’t helped?” asks a perfume hater from Oceania.

“Not as quickly or with as much zeal? Or they just pretend I’m involved to be jerks.” says Lacey.

Suddenly with the UK and Putin’s possible prayers she coughs as she’s tried to for a half an hour or longer. Putin may have used a priest to intervene and cast out the demon attacking her. Or God used someone to prompt him. Or he just did it himself.

“So Putin has some spiritual power over you if God allows him to.” says the Charismatic.

“Possibly. If God allows it.” says Lacey.

“That’s beautiful and sad both.” says the Charismatic.

“I’d be Russian. If our government is killing Christians now. If they do what? Get too much of something? Too much power? Too much oil? Too much fame?” says a Catholic.

“What does the Illuminati need you dead for?” asks the Charismatic.

“I’m either a failed sacrifice. Or…it’s a pride issue for them. “Pride as in ego.”

“So you don’t know. Putin could be killing you or he could be saving your life. But if it’s the later…that’s why you’re so dangerous.” says the Charismatic. “I mean it’s God. But…he’s not a man to trifle with.” He looks amused. “Why don’t they get it?” He thinks. “I find it very strange and very funny.” He thinks. “Does Snowden find you hilarious?

“Ah yes. Lord Snowden.” says Desmond. He smiles.

“So…you’re okay with Lem being…crazy vicariously?” asks a perfume hater.

“I think it’s sad.” says Lacey, physically feeling better. Another Catholic and Lem may have helped. As did Louis. Possibly all of them.

“Lem did you sleep with all those women in a way?” Lacey asks.

“That’s actually not as weird as people would make it. Did Bobby Jr. learn his womanizing from his dad or from Lem?” asks a Gen Z member.

“I wanted sex. But I wasn’t able to have it, I thought. …So…it was more-“ he starts.

“Okay. So here’s how it went: You thought the women were an exception and part of Jack’s denial. But the men meant something? Or…what?” asks the Democratic leader of Lem.

“I wasn’t in love with Jack.” he responds. “I thought I was… And I put up with him. The women really didn’t bother me though because I liked the idea of sleeping with women. It felt uplifting to even think of.” says Lem. “But I didn’t think of them as my date, so to speak. More like…my friend’s sexual partners.”

“And you were totally satisfied with just a wink and a nod from Jack enough to uproot your life for him.” says Lacey sarcastically.

“Would you have been with Joe?” asks the Democratic leader of Lacey.

She laughs. “For how long?”

“Until he was shot in your 40’s.” says someone.

“And I date other men who I presumably sleep with?!” asks Lacey.

“Yes and he helps you get started in writing. Big famous novels.” says the Democratic leader.

She laughs. “I’d be repulsed by him by the time I was 30 or earlier.” She thinks. “I think most people would be.” She thinks more. “To at least some extent.” And more. “If anyone truly loved me that’s the last he’d see of me.”

“That’s what Janet said about Joe Sr. essentially. And they had great sex. Apparently.” says a woman who reads.

“Jack was clingy.” says Lem.

“You wouldn’t think that based on how they portray him. But …if you look at hidden interactions with Lem and what he supposedly said to Janet…he sounds far different.” says Lacey. “He sounds desperate to be perceived as so so cool.” She laughs. “Or he really thought he just was the coolest person ever.”

“Like, Regina George move over.” says a hater.

“So…he was a pervert with Janet or?” asks a gay man.

“He wanted to seem capable of outdoing his dad in every way. …I think their relationship also threatened him. And he couldn’t stand his dad to be happy with Janet without him.” says Lem.

“Like he felt threatened by their sexual closeness?” asks a gay man.

“Yes. She wasn’t his mom. And she wasn’t Joe’s plaything.” says Lem. “Joe loved Janet. And that threatened Jack very deeply.”

“Why didn’t Joe just sleep with Lacey right off? Joe Sr.?” asks a Boomer.

“Me.” says Lem.

“So he knew about you guys? And yet Joe Jr. did not?” asks a Millennial.

“He might not have known.” says Lem. “Goodnight!”

National Anthem

Lacey loves the art of Lana Del Rey.

“Fuck you!!! Fuck…you!!!” Lacey yells at the top of her lungs at Lem from Louis’ convertible as he slows it down to drive past him and Jack turned into 16 year olds.

“I told her to do it.” Lem explains.

Bernie smiles.

“He was brilliant.” says a Ruth.

“But now you have to live with it.” Bernie says to him.

“I need someone to hold me.” Jack says to Lem. “Give me a standing ovation. Now!”

“It’s his birthday, Lem! Isn’t it your job to now his dick for eternity?!“ asks Lacey calmly. “Like…byotch…” She imitates a gay man. “That’s your job. …Work it hoe!!!”

“You should. We’re all going now. It’s just you, Jack and the vibe.” Bernie says to Lem.

“I’ll find out what happens of course…but I wash my hands of it.” says Lacey.

“And you have to listen to this song. Over and over and over until it ends.” says Bernie.

“You’re my National anthem.” Jack says to him.

“It’s about you and Michael as sung by Jack to me. Thinking it’s about him.” Lem says.

“But Lana sings it.” says Lacey.

Then they leave.

“Am I being sarcastic?” Lacey asks Louis.

“Yes.” he says.

“I love her art.” says Lacey. She listens, “And yet I’m not.”

“It’s not the Star Spangled Banner. Nor a song about the reality of immigration.” says F. Scott Fitzgerald. “It’s about the American Dream.”

“In the late 20th Century and 21st.” says Zelda.

“Mid to late?” Lacey says to her.

“Correct.” she says.

The group walks away from a mansion with Lem and Jack locked up together inside.

National Anthem

“Money is the anthem of success
So before we go out, what’s your address?

I’m your national anthem
God, you’re so handsome
Take me to the Hamptons, Bugatti Veyron
He loves to romance ’em, reckless abandon
Holding me for ransom, upper echelon

He says to be cool but, I don’t know how yet
Wind in my hair, hand on the back of my neck
I said, “Can we party later on?”
He said, “Yes, yes, yes”

Tell me I’m your national anthem
(Booyah, baby, bow, down, making me so wow now)
Tell me I’m your national anthem
(Sugar, sugar, how now? Take your body downtown)
Red, white, blue is in the sky
Summer’s in the air and baby, heaven’s in your eyes
I’m your national anthem

Money is the reason we exist
Everybody knows it, it’s a fact (kiss, kiss)

I sing the national anthem while I’m standin’
Over your body, hold you like a python
And you can’t keep your hands off me, or your pants on
See what you’ve done to me, King of Chevron

He said to be cool but, I’m already coolest
I said to get real, “Don’t you know who you’re dealing with?”
“Um, do you think you’ll buy me lots of diamonds?”

Tell me I’m your national anthem
(Booyah, baby, bow, down, making me so wow now)
Tell me I’m your national anthem
(Sugar, sugar, how now? Take your body downtown)
Red, white, blue is in the sky
Summer’s in the air and baby, heaven’s in your eyes
I’m your national anthem

It’s a love story for the new age, for the sixth page
We’re on a quick, sick rampage
Winin’ and dinin’, drinkin’ and drivin’
Excessive buyin’, overdose and dyin’
On our drugs, and our love, and our dreams, and our rage
Blurrin’ the lines between real and the fake
Dark and lonely, I need somebody to hold me
He will do very well, I can tell, I can tell
Keep me safe in his bell tower hotel

Money is the anthem of success
So put on mascara and your party dress

I’m your national anthem, boy, put your hands up
Give me a standin’ ovation
Boy, you have landed, babe, in the land of
Sweetness and danger, Queen of Saigon

Tell me I’m your national anthem
(Booyah, baby, bow, down, making me so wow now)
Tell me I’m your national anthem
(Sugar, sugar, how now? Take your body downtown)
Red, white, blue is in the sky
Summer’s in the air and baby, heaven’s in your eyes
I’m your national anthem

Money is the anthem, God, you’re so handsome
Money is the anthem of success
Money is the anthem, God, you’re so handsome
Money is the anthem of success
Money is the anthem, God, you’re so handsome
Money is the anthem of success
Money is the anthem, God, you’re so handsome
Money is the anthem of success”

“What’s going on?!” Kick asks desperately.

“You can’t watch!” says an angel.

“But I can hear the song.” says Kick.

“So what!” says the angel.

She pouts and seethes.

“You’ll have to wait, and not perversely control it all.” says Michael quickly before they leave her to God.

“Nobody loved England as much as you. Right?” Lacey says inquisitively to Kick.

“So I take it you want the truth?” asks an angel of Lacey.

“Are you from Heaven or Hell?” she demands.

“Heaven.” says the angel.

“Of course! Nothing else matters.” says Lacey.

“But people can’t forced into thinking things.” says a dead Catholic priest.

“This song is profound.” says The Charismatic about National Anthem.

“I almost think it’s filled with the truth of the Holy Spirit.” says Lacey. “God knows adult people have sex. He created it.” She thinks. “Satan is the one who ruined sex. Not God.” She thinks more. “Consensual sex, of course.” She rolls her eyes that she’d have to clarify that.

“Yeah, that should be obvious. But it’s not.” says a Messiah College professor.

“Which do you prefer? God Save The King or The Star Spangled Banner?” Scott asks her.

God Save The King.” says Lacey after reading. “I respect The Star Spangled Banner but I’m just that mad about Lem.” says Lacey. “I’m just that disillusioned with this entire shit show now.”

“You hate the entire country now because of Jack Kennedy?” asks a gay man.

“What? Is their some law you know of that says I can’t logically feel that way?” asks Lacey.

“But you don’t hate England. Or Catholicism?” asks a dead woman with a Cockney accent. She looks at Lacey and then giggles with her.

“No. England is so much more. And Jack isn’t Max. Or Frank. Or Fred. He’s Jack.” says Lacey. “But I’m either a Seay or a Banks.”

She thinks.

“And Catholicism is also so much more than just Jack Kennedy.” says Lacey.

A dead man from Boston looks at Lacey. “So is Boston.” he says. He smiles.

He looks at her. Is he a Banks or a Founding Father?

“Are you from Boston?” she asks.

“Yes!” he says.

“If you’re not Ben Franklin, I don’t agree. Are you suggesting I own Boston not Jack?” Lacey asks.

He nods. “Either way. It’s yours.”

“I want the whole state.” says Lacey. “And Maryland, New Hampshire and New York too.” She thinks. “Actually…I want the entire East Coast.”

Lem joins her. He’s breathless.

“Sure.” says the man to Lacey.

“I could ask for most of the US but I’m being nice.” says Lacey.

“Red, white and blue.” thinks a Millennial woman. “It’s the Union Jack.”

“I’ll have fun.” Lacey says about Massachusetts. “Possibly not. Possibly? I doubt it. Ask Jesus in Heaven. …Why are they the same colors?” She thinks. “That bothers me.”

Michael grins. He stands next to Lem.

“First: That statute is shit. I hope it’s known as Jack raping or fucking Lem wearing a pearl bracelet.” says Lacey. “It’s pornography.” She thinks. “It’s crap paid for by its victims.”

“What will kids think of it?” asks Michael.

“That it’s a sad joke. That it’s the most hilariously embarrassing piece of shit ever created. Or arguably one of them.” says Lacey. “Hopefully forever.”

“Does it have anything to do with black history?” asks James Baldwin.

“Yes! It’s about slavery. It’s also a statue depicting racism in post slavery America.” says Lacey. “Especially hidden racism.”

“More later.“ says Bernie Madoff.

—-

“He killed him as much as one can. Through strangulation. Yes.” says a reader from the afterlife about Lem and Jack.

“Not for being gay. Maybe for being a narcissist.” says a gay man. “A malignant narcissist.”

“How gay would Jack have seemed?” asks a gay man of Lacey.

“Extremely gay.” says Lacey.

“So…he’s like a psychopath the way he stole Lem. Like…Elizabeth Taylor but if she’d somehow brainwashed Michael Jackson into believing he was an actual unicorn.”

“But see…he has us fooled too.” says another Gen X man.

“Mm…Lem has a straight dude walk and posture below the belt. Which is weird. But…not weird if you consider that you can’t actually make yourself an orientation. And…he may have been faking it. …I can actually see how Jack seems possibly queer.” says a Gen Z man.

“How?!” Lacey asks.

“His smile. He looks gay. Not like…open your eyes wide and make a pouty face with your lips like Lem to look gay. …More like…I’m smiling because like…’I can’t not smile around Lemmers. Oh my gosh, you guys!’” says a gay Gen Z member.

They all think.

“What really pisses you off the most?” asks the gay Gen Z man of Lacey.

“That Lem let Jack get away with so much. …Snd dedicated his whole life. …Without knowing what happens after death. But now…he can’t even get it almost at all with me.” says Lacey. “And then I’m supposed to believe that Jack didn’t just actually ruin it? Or what? That Lem loves me?! …That’s a bit much.”

“But Lacey, a dumb, slutty, ugly-bitch blond who steals your husband deserves the empathy and freedom. Not you. You’re too elite.” says an American black woman.

“Why?” asks Lacey.

She laughs. “Excuse me.” she says calming herself. “Because she’s mentally-“ she calms herself. “Because she’s mentally challenged compared to you.”

“So like…it’s like the idea of Affirmative Action at its absolute worst in the eyes of its critics?” asks Lacey.

“Yes.” she says.

“But that argument against Affirmative Action works for a reason.” says Lacey.

“Yeah…” she says.

“So why…don’t people see that with this? Because this is that. For sure.” says Lacey. “No question.”

The woman smiles. “Hey! I didn’t make the rule. It’s just the way they see it.”

“Who?!” asks Lacey.

“Most people.” she says. “Nowadays anyway.”

“So…foolish women are automatically exonerated and therefore closeted, toxic gay men who use covert violence against confused, tender hearted men…are vindicated as well?” asks Lacey.

“Mmmhmm. Because Lem was gay. And you’re racist! And homophobic!” says a furious white lesbian to Lacey. She aims to sound morally superior and snobby.

“Are you being serious or joking?” Lacey asks her.

She looks at Lacey thoughtfully. “You’re a monster.” she says deadpan to Lacey.

“Answer my question. Are you joking or serious?” asks Lacey.

The black woman starts laughing.

“Is she being serious or joking?” Lacey asks the black woman.

“Serious.” she says before running off.

“No. I’m not.” says Lacey calmly to the white lesbian woman. “Did Jack send you? Or Hell itself?” Lacey asks.

“Yeah, I’m not gay.” says Lem. “You can claim I’m not Lem. You can claim I’m not gay anymore. …Or you can start to believe that I likely never was gay.”

Kick cries.

“I don’t hate you.” Lacey says to Kick.

The lesbian glares at Lacey.

Kick is almost impossible to hear.

“He doesn’t like me.” Jack says to a group of friends casually about Lem. Kick is included.

“He did like you.” Lacey says.

Jack rolls his eyes.

“He isn’t Michael anyway.” says Lacey.

“So what?!” says Jack, with an attitude. He pouts.

Kick cries harder.

“I’m not retarded.” says Jack.

“No. You do not have a medical issue of that nature and never did.” says Lacey. “Why do you keep choosing evil?”

“I’m choosing you.” Lem says to Lacey. As if he’s in a rose ceremony made for television.

She looks at him as if he’s losing her. Quickly. “That’s not funny.” she says.

“Could you sleep with someone else right now?” he asks.

“Yes. This is vile.” says Lacey.

Chemtrails Over The Country Club plays.

He looks at the scene. Chemtrails over an actual country club. At night. In the summer.

“Who are you?” Lacey asks him.

Gasoline by Halsey plays. Michael suddenly looms in the distance. As does Louis. …Harold emerges.

“I love National Anthem.” says Scott.

Diet Mountain Dew plays.

Harold Loeb puts on heart-shaped sunglasses. Suddenly they’re all in 1920’s Manhattan.

“I’m sorry.” Lem says to Lacey. He looks shocked.

“What’s so shocking?” she asks.

“You’re free.” he says. He thinks. “Michael doesn’t control you. Because…he does t need to. You couldn’t live without him through a whole life.” He cries. Wipes his eyes. Wipes his nose. “Or me. You couldn’t live without me.” He stares into the distance in shock. “Or Lou. Or Hal? …You need us. Not to rescue you…so you can stab us in the back.” He shakes his head. “Just to live at all.”

“To be happy. …And with kids, it’s debatable. I fight for my kids.” says Lacey.

“But it enables you to be free. You don’t have to be controlled. You aren’t in rebellion.” he says. “You love us.”

“Should I not?” Lacey asks.

“No.” says Louis. He throws her a loving but sexual glance.

Lem thinks. “No! Don’t change.” he says.

He squints. “You’re just so much prettier than me.”

Rules plays.

“Michael is the man you thought Joe was.” says Lem. “Isn’t he?”

“Yes.” she says.

“Why did you sleep with Joe? Or Harold? Or Louis?” he asks.

“Because I thought it might be best.” says Lacey. “I think.”

Say Something plays.

“You already have given up on me.” says Lem.

“Not entirely.” says Lacey.

“And you’d never expect me to care.” he says.

“And then she leaves forever.” says Harold.

“She’ll always care about you. As a friend.” says Scott.

Hey There Delilah plays. “Do you relate to this song? Really?” asks a hater of Lacey.

“No. But isn’t it stunning?” Lacey.

“Why?” asks the Native American woman.

“I might never have been loved that much. And…yet…I can’t love him. I’ve tried.” she says.

“Why?” asks the Native American woman.

“I don’t understand his…mentality. It feels tedious.” says Lacey.

“You’re not a gold digger. You literally…just…be…” says The Loudest Perfume Hater.

Gold Digger plays.

“No. I float.” says Lacey. “And love.”

“Why can’t you love a nice, simple poor man?” asks the Native American woman.

“It just never works. It’s too sad and personal to explain. But it’s not me being evil, I don’t think. It’s just…they get genuinely annoyed or egotistically hurt by me.” says Lacey. She thinks. “They literally never seem to like me.”

“I can have anyone!! Everyone loves me!” says Jack. “You’d love me.” he says to the Native American woman. He smiles. “And one of the few men who can love Lacey is on the record as being my little bitch. My table. My luggage carrier. My gold-digging whore. …Obsessed with me.”

“Fuck!” yells Lem.

Chasing Pavements plays.

And at that Lem reaches over and strangles Jack again. Lem looks embarrassed.

Rumour Has It plays.

Jack finally dies. He’s carried off by angels.

“Next time it’s me has to see.” says Michael.

“What keeps happening?” Lacey wonders.

“Well! Have you heard the rumor that Jack is going to marry a Rockefeller. A rock star too.” says a historian, jokingly.

Hometown Glory plays.

“Oh wow!” says a living rock star.

“Yeah. Michael just…is amazed by Jack’s…war record.” says the historian.

“Oh really? Wow?” says the living gay rock star.

“Yeah. They’re in love.” says the historian.

“Wow!” says Lacey.

“They…just…-I love their story. It’s so…deep.” says the historian.

“What about Kick’s guy?” asks a singer of Jack. “Why not him?”

“Because he’s in love with Lacey.” says Jack.

“Well that doesn’t matter with Lem?!” says the singer.

Jack looks suddenly sad.

“She only has four.” he says crying. “Just out of decency. And-“ He shakes his head. “Oh sure, it was more. But now it’s just four.”

“True.” says the gay musician.

“Why can’t I get it?!” he shrieks being carted off by a famous dead historian.

“Well…some people only have one if they’re fortunate.” says Lacey.

“You’re perfect.” Jack says to her.

“But…everyone is or can be.” Lacey says to him.

He walks off to think.

“I would never cheat on you with him. I wouldn’t have either.” says Lem to Lacey.

“Good. Doesn’t mean I believe it. Doesn’t mean I don’t feel like a fool.” says Lacey.

“Funny how we believe gay men who have been married and conceived multiple children are just gay…and yet we can’t believe this? …Do you think…maybe…it’s just how gay he pretended to be?” asks a gay musician of Lacey.

“It’s that I can’t hear his ‘I love you.’” says Lacey.

“What do you hear?” he asks.

“It’s funny. It hear it. But in my head in a dead place. A place that no longer has anything left.” says Lacey. “But heartache I have to let be for now.”

“Huh. So…in a place in your head where you’re possibly literally dead?” asks a Millennial singer.

“Yes. And in the place I exist…I don’t hear him. And when he tries to tell me…he falls apart into sobs and shaking.” says Lacey.

“Like he literally almost goes into convulsions trying to tell you?” asks a Boomer.

“I have a hard time. I-I can’t believe she could love me.” says Lem.

“And yet you can’t believe I’d sleep with anyone else?” asks Lacey.

He smiles. He sighs. “It feels…wrong.” He blushes.

“Why?” asks Lacey.

“Because I don’t want you to be with them, and yet even when you are…I know you’re really just still with me. Most likely.” He thinks. “And if it’s just you being hurt.” he cries. “I can’t help but feel like…I’m cheating.”

“Cheating what?” asks a gay man.

“She can’t possibly love me!” he says.

“So you keep thinking there’s something wrong with her?” asks the gay man.

“Maybe I’m just imaging her love? Maybe she doesn’t love me. Or is evil?” he says. “Because it’s so…fortunate. And I still struggle with it. Possibly.” He thinks. “Or would.”

“You feel common?” asks the Native American woman.

“She does too.” he says. “It’s just that everyone says we’re not. And is hateful. And…mocks us. And…Michael and Louis and Harold are not the men I thought I’d be up against or such easy friends with.” He thinks.

“Or friends with Philip either?” asks a perfume hater.

“He’s just a good man.” says Lem in admiration. “But I suppose we are friends. Should we be spiritually able to be.”