Previously: blah blah, blee blee, whatever. Muchos gracias to Miss Alli for pinch-hitting for me last week, because, honestly, I think my head was about to explode in a horrible, messy disaster if I had to spend one more minute in front of my computer.
We open on the front lawn of Casa Leery. Pacey stands on the grass and looks perturbed, probably because he just lost all of Dawson's money, and he knows from personal experience that Dawson doesn't take well to losing things that he thinks belong to him, whether it's money or, you know, the girl across the creek. Dawson steps out onto the porch. "Are you ever going to come in?" he asks. "I forgot you guys never lock your doors," Pacey responds wearily. Dawson, not noticing that Pacey's acting as though he just ran over a box of puppies, cheerfully retorts that they're going to have to start, since he's got all of this film equipment inside. "Come in, I want to show you something," he says. Pacey closes his eyes briefly. "You okay?" Dawson asks. Pacey shakes it off, and swears that he is. He lies that he went out with some of the guys from work and "got a little caveman." Dawson says nothing. "But I'd love to see what you got going," Pacey adds, and heads toward the door.
What Dawson's got going is an exact replica of his old bedroom, which he enthusiastically informs Pacey "took forever." Pacey just looks around, dazed. "What do you think? You're the first person whos seen it." Pacey weakly says that Dawson is "the king of procrastination," and then Dawson starts yammering about shooting schedules and locations and sound equipment and how he just maxed out three credit cards procuring cameras and whatnot. He then apologizes for blathering a mile a minute, and asks Pacey what's brought him to Capeside. Pacey sort of avoids the question and tells Dawson that being in this room brings him back to the day when "the future was a clean slate for all of us." Pacey, love? Pumpkin? Love of my life? You're nineteen. The slate isn't that messy yet. Dawson assures him that while the room may have traveled back in time, the two of them have "moved forward rather nicely." He points out that they've ended up doing exactly what they always wanted, and says that Pacey "made something of [himself]." Pacey winces. "And now you're making something of out of me," Dawson finishes cheerfully. Pacey offers that Dawson surely could have done this without him, and I'd like to point out that, at this point, "this" is "maxing out three credit cards," which isn't that big of an accomplishment, honestly. I've done it. Don't tell my mom. Dawson tells Pacey that he's trying to thank him, and that he's making him an associate producer on the flick, like being an associate producer on a home movie is all that impressive. At the very least, Pacey should negotiate points and land a piece of the back end (sorry, I'm in the middle of reading The Kid Stays in the Picture). Dawson tosses Pacey a copy of the script, and asks what he came to talk to him about. Pacey mutters that, as associate producer, he has some concerns about casting. "Especially the role of Pacey. That kid has some pretty large shoes to fill." Dawson snorts that Pacey is "letting the power go straight to [his] head," and gestures at a pile of head shots on his desk. "I don't think these amateurs know what they're getting into," he says. "No. Someone ought to warn them," Pacey says very seriously. I wish someone had warned me. ["I tried." -- Sars]