Creative Writing: Shuttered – Pt. 1

By Anonymous

CHARACTERS
BAILEY, a man in his early twenties. The charming local radio enthusiast of Chesnut Creek.
CHET, a college boy in his late teens. Attempts to appear suave yet casual at the same time. A
little clueless at times, and intends on proposing to April.
APRIL, a college girl in her late teens. Starkly contrasts Chet, wearing comfortable clothes. Her
façade of being well slowly falls apart—she is deeply disturbed by the rain.

SET
A small radio room is downstage right, with a desk holding a microphone in its center and a door
leading offstage right. Many other radio-related gadgets and knobs are spread around the room.
Clearly divided from this is the rest of the stage, which is set up as a living room. Notably, there
are shuttered windows, a couch with a side table bearing a radio, a cabinet, and a door leading
offstage left with a coat rack nearby bearing a jacket. It should feel very lived in, with paintings
and old photos could covering the walls and on top of furniture. The radio room and living room
should be treated as if they are in two completely different buildings. Take into account that
every time Bailey speaks, he is doing so over the radio.

The gentle sound of rain pattering and light wind whistling can be heard as a soft undertone to
every conversation. The radio room is lit by a warm glow, illuminating BAILEY walking around
the room and turning knobs while writing in a small handheld journal. He continues to test
equipment for several minutes as audience members finish finding their seats before the show.
Seemingly satisfied, BAILEY dons a pair of headphones and sets aside his notebook. Meanwhile,
CHET fiddles with the radio on the side table.

     BAILEY. Good evening, Chesnut Creek! This is Bailey on—well, you all know me. I’m
back tonight for your weekly—

Thunder and a brief flash of light. CHET jumps, knocking over the radio. BAILEY’s voice is
replaced with a quiet crackling, but he is still silently talking with a smile on his face.

     CHET. God, I—April? April, come down here! (CHET replaces the radio on the table
and turns it off, and APRIL enters with a deck of cards.) The radio broke again.
     APRIL. (exasperated) Again? Can we just play cards instead? It’s more fun to pretend to
be analog. Besides, I already have them with me.
      CHET. I don’t think that—
       APRIL. Too late! (She pulls the deck and begins to shuffle it, sitting on the couch.) How
does Gin sound?
     CHET. (misunderstanding) Oh, you take it serious. Sure. (He heads to the cabinet,
grabbing some cups and a bottle of alcohol that he admires as APRIL is distracted by the rain.)
Wow, these are vintage. You’re certain your parents don’t mind me staying the night?
APRIL. Hmm? Yeah, we’re moving out tomorrow anyways. (The shutters burst open
with a gust of wind, which APRIL cringes at. CHET returns to the couch to pour glasses and set
down the bottle as APRIL deals out cards, trying to keep herself composed.) Let’s… let’s start
playing. Could you… uh… close that for me?
     CHET. Of course, I—
     CHET, about to sit down, has changed courses to close the shutter. Meanwhile, APRIL absently
takes a deep swig from her glass and spits it out, not expecting gin.
      APRIL. What the fuck is this?
      CHET has closed the window shutters. Not seeing this side of APRIL before, he looks at her,
worried. APRIL visibly calms down now that the window is closed.
      CHET. It’s… gin? Like you suggested?
      APRIL. What? (She returns to her affable demeanor as best as she is able, laughing.) Oh,
silly, I meant the game!
      CHET. Oh! Oh, that is entirely my fault, I’m sorry. (They take a moment as the tension
falls.) Do you… still want to drink?
      APRIL. Yeah, why not? Gin is much better than gin, in my experience.

     CHET sits beside APRIL on the couch, and they drink with their arms intertwined—it is clearly
an inside joke, and one that they both laugh at.
     CHET. Let’s do something other than cards. Please, you win literally every time.
     APRIL. Like what? Why don’t you share one of your genius ideas with me?
     CHET. Well… I was thinking it would be fun to just ask each other questions. Like we
did when we were first getting to know each other.
      APRIL. Oh, please. We’ve been together for months, it doesn’t need to be gamified—you
can just ask.
      CHET. It would help me if it’s more of a back-and-forth. I don’t know, it feels less
out-of-nowhere this way. Or… some more gin could help…
      APRIL rises and grabs the bottle of gin away from CHET and puts it back in the cabinet.
      APRIL. Okay pal, no more for you tonight… Hmm. Why do you try to hide your fear of
lightning? I’ve never seen you this on-edge before.
      CHET. (wincing) Straight to the point—I guess I asked for this. (He braces himself.)
When I was younger, one of my best friends told me this horror story about some local murderer
in the rain. They thought it would be funny to turn off the power right after and bang on the
door—It’s stuck with me since. (He looks chagrined as APRIL giggles.) I know it’s silly, but
come on.
      APRIL. No, it’s just… (She wipes a tear of laughter from her eye.) Whoever said
opposites attract was really onto something.
The shutters slam open, the rain becoming a little louder. APRIL shies away from it
subconsciously. CHET smiles and moves to close them. BAILEY stops “speaking” and flips some
controls. The radio station is now playing music inaudibly.
     CHET. Opposites, you say? (APRIL glares at him.) Sorry, sorry.
      APRIL. (exasperated) Just ask your question.

     CHET. Okay, I heard this one from my friend on the radio. (APRIL looks wary for a
second, but quickly covers it up. CHET moves to sit next to her on the couch energetically.)
Would you… god, this is hard for me. Would you—
     APRIL. (impatiently) Chet. Ask the question.
     CHET. I’m just… okay, okay. (CHET holds one of APRIL’s hands in his own and gets
down on one knee, as if to propose.) April… would you… would you still love me if I was a
worm?
Pause. APRIL looks at CHET blankly.
     APRIL. Chet.
     CHET. Yeah?
     APRIL. Can I be honest with you for a second?
     CHET. Always.
     APRIL. (cheerily) Sometimes I want want to strangle you.
     CHET. (warmly) Aww, thank you!
     APRIL. Fortunately, I have that feeling a little less for you than I do with most other
people. (She stands, pulling him up with her.) I’m grateful that you can be that for me.
     CHET. For… not making you—
     APRIL. Shh.

     APRIL puts a finger to CHET’s lips. She begin noiselessly talking to him, pressing a finger
against his chest. They laugh as they hold each other close. BAILEY is now audible.

     BAILEY. This is a special song—one my sister and I used to dance to all the time, back
in the day. Especially on gray, rainy days like this one, it always brought a little splash of color. I
hope it does the same for you.

APRIL turns on the radio. The music can now be heard softly—it is slow and instrumental. A
recommended song is Je Te Veux by Erik Sadie. BAILEY is now silent and contemplative,
listening to the melody. APRIL and CHET can be heard again.