Sharon’s note: So enters the villain of Wes’s musical. This was intended to be wholly his project, but . . . well, I had an idea. Out of nowhere. I don’t normally even write poetry, but I woke up one day and wrote a song. It’s not fantastic, and the stage directions are probably worse, but hey, I did it. Warning: Author almost always loves the villains more than the heroes in any musical.
[The lights come up on a man lying on the floor. It’s an empty room with a wooden floor and empty walls. He’s bleeding heavily from a wound in his chest, and his blood is spreading beneath him and bubbling from his mouth. A woman walks in, dressed for an evening out. He reaches for her, eyes desperate, but she merely shakes her head and smiles sadly. She carefully sits near his head on a un-bloodied bit of floor] It’s time that I left you. It’s not you, it's me. I’m sorry, that was mean. But I’m finally free. I need you to know that this isn’t your fault I hurt you lied to you Now to rub in the salt This was never about you This was always the plan I think part of you always knew You could have been any man This all started long ago Long before you were born a wrong that was done me A hurt that I mourn It wasn’t your money I needed an in You liked me And trusted me And that was your sin This was never about you You were always a fool I think part of you always knew You were only a tool I don’t mean to blame you You were good enough to me It’s over now I should go I’ve someone to see I have one thing to leave you Just one thing that’s true If I could love anyone, It would have been you [The woman stands up and brushes off her clothes. The man, still unnamed, gurgles helplessly and twitches a hand after her as she leaves the room. She doesn’t look back. We follow her outside the door as she closes it behind her. She leans back against the door, face contorted in pain. She touches a locket that hangs around her neck, and looks like she’s about to take it off. In a jerky motion she hides the locket in her shirt and runs away.]