(the stage is set with the backdrop of New York City. The set is Washington Square Park on a summer day with green leaves set on trees. People brustling through as its setup to be the playground of the mind of Detroit Reynolds, an author with severe writer’s block. Having left his previous girlfriend for “creative reasons”, he seeks isolation yet observation, as some things appear to be real and fictitious as creates different things to come to life. The other characters appearing are Melinda Brown, his ex and Russell Match, a dog. Some will be illusions, some will be real, is it insanity? Or just a bad breakup?)
LIGHTS UP ONSTAGE
(a young couple walks by Detroit Reynolds, he is in his early thirties and only owns khakis and blazers with button ups. His glasses are tinted to block the hot sun as he also tries to hide his miserable attitude. He is writing in his journal, the new story for his book, somewhat of a mystery, both in his story and in reality. The couple sits down near Detroit to his left, and begin talking. More couples begin to walk onstage and start chatting until Detroit is completely surrounded. The lights change onstage to dim as a dog enters, when a spotlight goes on him. Russel Match, is an old character from one of Detroit’s novels that still lives in his mind, but has taken the form of a dog outside the novel. The couples conversations begin to quiet and the dog approaches Detroit.)
Russell: (english accent) Good day Detroit.
Detroit: barely looking up Oh hello Russel.
Russell: I suppose that there is a new adventure for me to go on, maybe something around murder. Yes, a jolly axe murderer who targets pregnant mothers around Valentine’s day as they represent the failure of bearing a child with his own romantic companion. Or maybe a serial foot fetishist is going around stealing the socks of every woman in Cambridge. Yes, something of a sexual crime. I love it, when will it be published.
Detroit: still writing It’s not about you.
Russell: Then what’s it about? You?
Detroit: still writing No, it’s not about me Russell, it’s a brand new character i’ve been working on.
Russell: appauled Trying to replace me? Is that what this is? Something you’ve been working on under my nose. Well, the hat is coming off, i’ve caught you red handed you dirty cheater.
Detroit: finally looking up Russell please, i’m trying to work and your making this very difficult.
Russell: backing off his inquiries Fine then, have your way you old horn-beast. What’s the story about then?
Detroit: caught in denial It’s a… uhhh mystery, yeah a mystery with a really interesting private detective named Whitney Stevens, whose solving the death of a man who teaches his son sign language, that way he has a personal connection to your victim.
Russell: Sounds awfully close to the plot from “Sign this! Your Obituary: A Whitney Stevens story”, doesn’t it?
Detroit: Damn, i didn’t think you’d remember that one.
Russell: Didn’t think i’d remember? My character, the handsome and ever so genius detective Russell Match, whom no one can match, was just a deputy in that novel.
Detroit: Do you think i’ve over done the detective novels?
Russell: I don’t know, you already have 3 characters with  a nine book series of mystery novels and haven’t written much else, but no, you just go ahead and write another series.
Detroit: thinking Maybe like a romance or an erotica would be next for me.
Russell: Yes, i can the headlines the next day: Detroit Reynolds tackling his own mystery...SEX.
Detroit: Oh who am i kidding, i’ve wasted my whole life with these damn mystery novels. When am i actually gonna start writing something
that matters?
Russell: How about now?
(Melinda Brown enters, a tall, artistic, and smart girl whose beauty has haunted Detroit ever since their breakup weeks before this event. The lights change into a spotlight directly on her as she crosses the stage while reading a book. Also lit is Detroit, as he watches her with a dropped jaw and eyes with a slight twitch.)
Detroit: with utter amazement Do you think she remembers me?
Russell: I don’t know, is two weeks long enough for someone to forget the other?
Melinda: Detroit?
(At this moment, the lights go down except for the one on Detroit. He sits there and begins to cry and laugh hysterically, representing all the awkwardness in his heart. Lights go back onstage, when he is done.)
Detroit: Hello Melinda
Melinda: moves to sit next to him I can’t believe this, what are you doing here?
Detroit: Oh, just trying to take in the sun while its still summer.
Melinda: It’s June.
Detroit: ...I’m trying to write my novel.
Melinda: Is this the mystery one you were writing before the uhhh-
Detroit: Yes yes, it’s that one. I just can’t seem to land on a story, you know, something i’m confident with.
Melinda: Oh, if i know you well enough, you’ll land on something brilliant. You always do.
Detroit: Yeah, thank you, it means a lot. It’s so good to see you. I mean, you look great.
Melinda: Thank you thank you, i’ve been actually working out a lot more than i used to so, that’s a plus.
Detroit: That’s really really nice.
(the atmosphere is obviously awkward and either of them can’t seem to shake it. In the next few minutes, we see them trying to converse but awkwardly stopping each other. It’s silent until Detroit begins to speak.)
Detroit: You know, can i actually ask you for some advice.
Melinda: cautiously Sure thing.
Detroit: I want to go in a different direction with my books. I like the mystery thing, but i think i should give my audience something new,something fresh. But i don’t want that to be my end. You know, when an artist does something new and everyone hates them for it like they committed treason against the creative gods. And you're the only person whose read my more...emotional, different things, and i was wondering if you’d support that. 
Melinda: Oh wow, that was forward.
Detroit: If you're uncomfortable because of our history, then you don’t have to answer, god i feel so stupid.
Melinda: No no no, it’s fine. I like your writing when it’s not just barfed out or what you think what the audience wants. The point of writing is to be honest with the audience through your work. Now, your mystery novels are good, but i just felt more while reading your story about the girl whose left eye contained her dead husband's mind and he felt her tears. It was wild, but it worked. And it was sweet. And i like it more when your sweet and not working yourself to death over another mystery novel.
Detroit: laughing You're right. God, thank you so much, that seriously helped my confidence a whole lot. I’m sorry, i forgot to ask how have you been?
Melinda: I’m good, I’ve been reading a lot more and working on my art a little bit more. I actually have a gallery coming up soon, and i wanted to ask your permission if i could show a piece.
Detroit: What piece?
Melinda: It’s called, “A Fallen City”, it’s about us and our relationship actually.
Detroit: Oh wow.
(The spotlight once again falls on just Detroit, and the painting is lowered in front of him and the audience. A beautiful painting depicting a colorful background while a couple is eating dinner. The woman is dressed in very bright colors while the man is dressed in monotone, basic colors. The woman is beaming at him, while he sadly looks at his food. Detroit begins crying again, followed by more laughter, followed by the lights coming up, and the picture being raised.)
Detroit: Sounds like a great idea to me.
Melinda: Oh, thank you so much, i really think it’s some of my best work.
Detroit: I love you.
(Being struck by what he just said he laughs immediately and acts as awkward as possible to hide this.)
Melinda: What?
Detroit: laughter turned to crying I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. Just sitting here, talking to you makes me realize how much i miss you.
Melinda: consoling him Oh Detroit. I don’t know what to say. You broke up with me. I can’t help that your sad or missing me. Why ever you did it is your reason, but missing me isn’t gonna help you solve whatever it is your going through. You always were an emotional wreck, but that’s why it was so easy to care about you. You needed the help.
Detroit: How did you move on?
Melinda: I didn’t.
(a moment of niceness and hopefulness for Detroit before the lights close on Melinda and a spot light on Russell and Detroit is on)
Russell: So you miss her?
Detroit: realizing She isn’t even here, is she.
Russell: laughing Yeah, no she’s not.
Detroit: You’re not even here, are you?
Russell: Obviously not, i’m just a dog.
Detroit: Where is she?
Russell: I don’t know. Idaho, Cambridge, Barcelona. Limitless options.
Detroit: What am i supposed to do.
Russell: Look around Detroit. Love is in the air, but in some time, these couples will look like you. Sad, alone, and crazy. You’ve lost it. Talking to a dog and past romances. That’s a story right there. I’m okay being exploited, just as long as i’m handsome and have a british accent.
Detroit: How do i move on from her:
Russell: Happy writing.
(the spotlight on russell goes away, and the lights go up on the stage, while detroit sulks for a moment more. Then, he picks up his journal, and begins writing again. Blackout.)

The End