Robin: Dad's condition seems to be getting worse. I'm really worried he might—
Robin: His sister shushes him.
Illia: Shh! I think he's fallen asleep. Let's not wake him—it's been so long since he had a good rest.
Robin: I had no idea he had so much on his mind. Even now, he can't stop thinking about his vampire film.
Illia: That's a good thing, Robin. That's a good thing.
Robin: The daughter murmurs to herself, tapping her fingers on the edge of the bed.
Illia: At least Dad's still got something to hang onto. I think that's what's keeping him alive, in spite of his bad eyes and old war wounds. It's by God's grace that he's still here with us.
Robin: ...
Robin: But I do wish Dad could fulfill his dream. It's not the sickness that'll do him in; it's the regret—the kind that eats away at you.
Robin: The old man's grip on the notebook remains strong, as if something immensely important is still gnawing at him.
Brian: Urgh ...
Robin: Suddenly, the old man cries out, his body trembling as if in the throes of a nightmare.
Brian: That's my final say!
Brian: Don't send anyone else to try and sweet-talk me anymore! I won't have it!
Illia: Dad?
Brian: No name. Don't put my name on it.
Brian: It's got nothing to do with Brian Finn!
Robin: Desperate and helpless words spill from his quivering lips.
Brian: vomit
Brian: I don't give a dn! This is not my movie!
Brian: I loathe you! All of you! You went ahead and screened it—and now it's a stain on my name forever!
Brian: Dn it! To hell with you investors!
Robin: The old man gasps for air, seeming to calm down for a moment.
Robin: Are you alright? The doctor—we've got to get Dr. David here, now!
Robin: Just hang in there a little longer! Just a little while longer ...
Illia: Robin, quick! We need to hurry! I'll go with you!
Robin: A-Alright.
Robin: The children rush out the door.
Robin: The room returns to its original calm.
Robin: Brian looks like a baby, tucked in a cradle.
Robin: Footsteps approach, a sound both alien and familiar creaking on the wooden floor.
Brian: ...!
Robin: The old man struggles to rise and forces open his eyes. He is desperate to see.
Brian: Is that you? Have you come at last?
Robin: That beautiful silhouette sits beside him once again.
Winnifred: Mr. Brian ... Still as frantic as ever, I see.
Brian: My apologies, Ms. Winnifred, that you have to see me in such a state.
Winnifred: Everyone's day comes—when youth and vigor quietly slip away. We claw at it, but we're ultimately helpless to stop it.
Winnifred: Be it you or me.
Robin: She chuckles.
Winnifred: I've seen stories about you in many newspapers over the years. Your career's been a successful one.
Brian: Those empty accolades are nothing to boast about. Besides, I didn't even put my name on New England Dream.
Brian: The investors and I never saw eye-to-eye. They took everything. Left me with nothing but the original copy.
Robin: The old man strokes his notebook, falling silent for some time.
Robin: Finally, some cautious words leave his mouth.
Brian: Did you get the film I sent you?
Winnifred: Of course. It's well made. Beautiful visuals, exquisite costumes, and the plot's interesting enough. A superior vampire film.
Winnifred: Your vampire had a long life, yet she still maintained her original purity and enthusiasm. It was touching.
Brian: But ...
Robin: The old man fumbles for words, unable to articulate a complete sentence.
Winnifred: You want to know what your film was missing, don't you?
Brian: If you're willing to tell me.
Winnifred: Time, Brian. Time.
Robin: Brian's fingers loosen, and the notebook opens to a blank page.
Winnifred: How do you view time, Mr. Brian?
Winnifred: Time is neither our friend nor our foe. It simply is. It passes over everything we experience, equally and without mercy.
Winnifred: Maybe money and that special bloodline you believe in can stave off the erosion of time on our bodies.
Winnifred: But how can they resist its impact on our hearts?
Brian: ...
Winnifred: Your New England Dream granted her eternity, but why did you cruelly deprive her of the right to have her soul worn away by time?
Winnifred: It's a story so beautiful that it's almost a dream, but it destroys itself in its own beauty.
Brian: Ms. Winnifred, your insight penetrates to the core of my work.
Robin: Brian closes the notebook, his wrinkles smoothing out as resignation comes over him.
Brian: You always saw straight through me, didn't you?
Winnifred: I'm not the vampire you hoped for. I'm just an ordinary person—a person bearing a curse.
Brian: cough, cough Of course. Of course you are.
Brian: Knowing this now, clear as day, I feel all the more regretful.
Robin: His face flushes red, as if struggling against something formidable.
Brian: Time will change us, reshape us beyond recognition. This is a painfully obvious, and dismal, fact.
Brian: It's precisely because of that fact that I searched so hard for a true vampire. I was trying to convince myself that there's a treasure in this world that's eternal—something untouched by time's cruel hands.
Brian: It was entirely out of my own selfishness that I did so. It was this obsession that left my film forever incomplete.
Robin: Brian clings to the notebook with stubborn resolve.
Brian: But it's almost impossible for me to let go of this selfishness.
Brian: I've been wrestling with myself for over twenty years, even until—
Brian: cough, cough ... until now.
Winnifred: It must've been a long and brutal war.
Brian: You couldn't be more right.
Brian: It's claimed the twilight years of my life; left me bedridden, sightless, and battling illness, yet I couldn't change a thing.
Robin: A gentle sea breeze whispers by.
Winnifred: Mr. Brian, there's something important that you're overlooking.
Brian: ...?
Robin: The breeze gently caresses Brian's stiff limbs.
