Barry has entered. Sally, expecting the stiff, wooden idiot she’s been rehearsing with, turns to see: Barry, crying. Real tears of wrenching grief. Frustration. Desperation. Through this squall, with monumental effort, he bravely speaks: BARRY (AS SEYTON) My lord, the queen, is dead. And then he just weeps. All the emotion spills out. The self-loathing, the regret, the guilt, the shame. Barry sobs as he stumbles blindly off the stage. The crowd is stunned and confused. But Sally? She thinks all his emotion was summoned FOR HER. She absorbs it, revels in it - is utterly invigorated by it. His catharsis is fuel to her own sputtered emotional flame. She turns back to the audience with new confidence. BARRY, “CHAPTER SEVEN: LOUD, FAST, AND KEEP GOING.” Written by Liz Sarnoff.