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Philemon. Oh, yeah.
Ivy turns her attention to the easel.
Ivy. What are you drawing there? The easel wasn't here when I left. What? Inspiration struck sharply?
Philemon. And… yes, I'm there… so. Something has found it.
Ivy. Can I see it?
Philemon. No.
Ivy. What do you mean, no?
Philemon. Literally, no!
Ivy. You're a tough guy. And what's so-and-so?
Philemon. That's all you can't do!
They sit, they are silent, they look at each other.
Ivy. And if I look anyway?
Philemon. I don't recommend it.
Ivy. What's going to happen? Will you draw me with a black eye?
Philemon. It can be easier to do everything, you're not far away, I can reach out if I want.
Ivy. You are not capable of hitting a girl, you can be seen through. A worthless, soft-bodied little bastard. Only on paper and is able to drive with brushes. You can't do anything else — you don't have the guts!
Philemon. Why are you insulting me all day today? Sometimes you blame your age, then you blame your softness and inability to do something great. Why are you doing this to me?
Ivy. What are you doing? What a Van Gogh! Is it a pity that someone will see your daub?
Philemon sprays the rest of the juice from his glass into Ivy's face.
Ivy jumps up.
Ivy. Oh, you old prick! I'm going to put your painting on your head now!
He runs to the donated painting and takes it.
Ivy. No, I liked this one, I'll take this one. I'm just painting you over there, along with the easel. Look for a helmet, it won't seem enough!
Ivy runs up to the easel, grabs it and notices the drawing on it. Freezes.
Philemon. What is it? What?
Philemon runs up to Ivy. He takes the easel from her and sets it aside.
Philemon. Where does it hurt? Stretch it? Knock? What? What's wrong with you?
Ivy looks at the drawing, at the one on the easel, then looks at Philemon. He stands at a loss.
Philemon. Well, yes…
Ivy kisses him. Philemon stands like an idol.
Philemon. For what? What have I done?
Ivy removes the drawing from the easel, shows it to Philemon, then to the audience. A one-on-one portrait with Ivy.
Ivy. Something's found, you say?
Philemon. Found it.
Ivy. And what found it?
Philemon. Found it… Something.
Ivy. Mm…
Philemon. Well, yes…
Ivy. Will you give me this drawing?
Philemon. I gave you that one, and I'd like to keep this one for myself. I won't draw it like this a second time.
Ivy. What? Did you like it?
Philemon. Why did you like it right away? I liked it a little bit. Am I an artist that I can't draw some person just like that?
Ivy. I definitely liked it.
Philemon, you… this… Let's change the subject. You were going to tell me about yourself! I'm listening to you carefully.
Ivy. And now I don't want to tell you.
Philemon. Why is that?
Ivy. Because if you find out the whole truth about me, will you immediately stop liking me?
Philemon. Why will you stop?
Ivy. Ah! So you liked me after all!
Philemon. A… I didn't say anything like that at all. I just drew you and that's it.
Ivy. That's it?
Philemon. And everything.
Ivy. Well, that's it, that's it.
Philemon. That's it?
Ivy. Well, that's it. That's all. I went then, since I didn't like it.
He's about to leave.
Philemon. Wait, wait!
Ivy. Yes, yes?
Philemon. Psh… Well, I liked it.
Ivy. And without well?
Philemon. I liked…
Ivy. Here! So it would be right away! We continue the conversation.
They sit down at the table again. Ivy pours wine for Philemon and herself, and looks at Philemon intently.
Ivy. Let's get to know each other!
Philemon. Wait, isn't that where we started?
Ivy. Back then, neither I knew who you were, nor you knew who I was.
Philemon. How did you not know? I immediately introduced myself. I didn't say right away that I was an artist, but what does that change?
Ivy. You immediately, and I did not immediately. Besides, I treated you a little differently. I thought you were just like everyone else. "Bit, chewed and spit out," and you, as it turned out, were not going to "bite" either.
Philemon. Ivy, you seem to be trying to tell me something, to explain, but I don't understand.
Ivy. Don't call me Ivy. My name is Alexandra. Sasha.
Philemon. And Ivy?
Sasha. And Ivy is my stage name, let's call it that. Is it clear who I am now? Thanks for the introduction.
Sasha clinks her glass against Philemon's. He drinks. Philemon comprehends, catches up with Sasha.
Philemon. Well, let's get to know each other, Sasha. And I'm still Philemon. Either a Smart Guy, or a Wit, or a Filly. Whatever you like.
Sasha. No, no, no. Philemon, as it is, so let it be. I'm sorry that I played with you and behaved so unbridled.
Philemon. Unbridled! Do you even know that word?
Sasha. I'm not stupid. I can communicate decently, it's just that men like silly, frivolous pretty girls with a touch of bitchiness, and I willingly wear this mask for work. Have you finally figured out what kind of job it is?
Philemon. I can't say that I didn't guess, I've been thinking for a long time, I just didn't want to believe it. You're so… She's still very young. And into such a profession…
Sasha. Where to go, money is not lying on the road. You have to pay for your studies, you have to live on something. Everything is necessary.
Philemon. But there are a lot of normal jobs, side jobs.
Sasha. Normal for whom? For the employer?
Philemon. For the most part, yes.
Sasha. Well, you know everything. What will you earn there, in these "normal" jobs and part-time jobs? You will only leave your health.
Philemon. And what's here? Won't you leave it?
Sasha. And you'll leave it here, but at least you'll get something for it, even if not for free.
Philemon. I don't know…
they're silent.
Sasha. Do you despise me?
Philemon is silent.
Sasha. Clear. Okay. I'm going to go. Happy birthday and I'm sorry if anything is wrong.
Sasha leaves, takes the painting that was given to her.
Scene 3
Philemon. Yes… Wow, Fate gave me a gift. I don't even know whether to be happy or sad. I liked the girl, what to hide. Just what should I do with this "liked"? Her life is just beginning, the very dawn is ahead, and my day is already going down. Even if we assume that it is stupid, but nevertheless, if we assume that she will also be able to like me in some way, then what can I offer her? Not rich, not famous, not really realized. A family that doesn't really need me, friends and acquaintances who, if necessary, can easily find an alternative for me. Yes, there is a brother who will always help me, as I will help him, but in the context of this issue, I am completely alone. I have this old murdered apartment, which has never been well renovated. That's all I've achieved in my life. I'm not her match, in any case. She's just wasting her time with me. Get these thoughts out of your head, Philemon. Raise a glass to all the good things and go to rest. No one else is coming to see you today.
Philemon pours wine, picks it up, clinking glasses with the air, and drinks it.
The doorbell rings. He's coming to open it.
Sasha enters without the painting.
Sasha. What if I like you too?
Philemon. Me?
Sasha. You
, Philemon. To you?
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