[pensive music]
♪ ♪
[lasers zapping] [metal thumps]
- Why are you putting the lights up so early?
It's just now November.
- 'Cause I'm fucking festive, that's why.
Hey, grab my hammer and bring it up to me, would ya?
♪ ♪
Oh, my God, what is your problem?
Get the hammer. Get up here.
- He's a scaredy cat, Dad.
- You know what? I think he might be, sweetie.
You wanna help me out?
Why thank you. That was hard, wadn't it?
Ah, shit! - Dad!
- [laughing]
"Dad! Dad!"
[both laughing]
How did you become such a goddamn pussy?
[laughs] Hey.
Why don't go get me another beer,
and get yourself one too, okay?
Just keep it hidden
like I showed you from your mom, all right?
[foreboding music]
- Your dad is such an asshole. - [sighs]
♪ ♪
- Just an early morning beer?
- Come on, you can't even tell what time of day it is.
[explosion]
♪ ♪
- Mom, look at this!
- Oh, my God. This is the moment
that I wanted to be a flight attendant.
This exact moment.
- - What? - You--
you found this inspirational?
- Flight 7997.
It was a miracle that no one died,
an absolute miracle.
- This is unbelievable. - Yeah.
The lead flight attendant was Cheryl McAdams.
She was all over the news and in the paper.
She made everyone feel so safe
during the worst moment of their lives.
[loud crashing]
[dramatic music]
I wanted to be just like her.
[siren wailing]
♪ ♪
All I wanted to do was help people.
[dramatic sting]
[cell phone dings]
- You got another one?
- Really?
- I have some questions.
Your client is a witness in this event.
- She saw a woman commit suicide this morning.
Is there really much more to say?
Also, what is the FBI doing on the scene?
- We go where she goes,
and I'd like to ask, Ms. Bowden,
what happened before you came downstairs?
[dark music]
- Sabrina!
♪ ♪
- You have no idea what's going on.
- Cassie, just let me handle this.
- Truly, no idea. - Cas.
- According to tenants in the building,
you were harassing the victim minutes before this happened.
- I thought someone was attacking her inside, okay?
The shredded documents that we taped together told us--
- Taped?
- Scotch Tape, and please don't give me that face.
It's actually the only reason we figured out
that Lionfish is using jets to smuggle weapons.
Oh, and the Sokolovs are laundering money
through Unisphere.
Annie, we figured that out too, right?
- No, uh--
- And Miranda, who I already told you about,
who chased me on a train, did this to Sabrina, okay?
Because Sabrina spoke to me. So basically, I'm...
starting to think this is my fault.
- She means metaphorically.
That was not an admission of guilt.
- Do you have any proof of this?
- You know what? Thank you.
Special Agent White, this was a courtesy,
as the NYPD was done with her. So we're gonna be leaving now.
[light piano music]
Good-bye.
♪ ♪
[siren wailing]
Look, I know you just saw some horrible shit again,
- but what the actual fuck, - Cassie?
- Annie, I don't think she's-- - Shh.
Look, I don't know if you realize it,
but you just said all of that shit about Unisphere out loud.
You know, the stuff that I very secretly told you,
the stuff that I'm legally not allowed to know?
Uh, so that could blow up in my face.
I don't know if you thought about that,
or if that crossed your mind, or--where are you going?
- Annie, give her a second.
- Listen, I messed up, Annie, I know that,
but that was not suicide. Somebody killed her.
It was probably Miranda, and I don't want to be next.
- I don't want you to be next either.
- Stop walking. - Cassie!
Where are you going?
You literally don't have anywhere to go.
[melancholy music]
♪ ♪
- You're right.
Right. - Jesus, Cas.
Okay, shh, I'm sorry. I'm sorry.
- I'm sorry. - Look.
I am not trying to say that you have to do this alone.
I am trying to help you.
Will you please just let me help you?
♪ ♪
- [cries]
- It's okay. It's gonna be okay.
♪ ♪
[frenetic jazz music]
♪ ♪
[bell pealing]
- She's lucky to have you pick up all the pieces, huh?
Do you...
Do you believe her about all this?
[cell phone buzzing]
[quiet dramatic music]
- Hello?
- Good morning, Ms. Mouradian.
Regarding the recent favor you requested,
I'd love to meet today to discuss
your current outstanding debts.
- Certainly. I understand.
- I'll text you the address.
3:00 P.M. Punctuality appreciated.
♪ ♪
- Of course.
- Work stuff?
- You asked if I believe her?
She has no photos, she has no witnesses to--
um, and there's the drinking.
Um...
She's my best friend, and I really want to believe her,
and that's currently where I'm at right now.
- I mean, I helped her put those papers together.
I think there's something there.
I think something at least.
- Well, um, look, Max, I love that you both believe that,
but sometimes trash that you get excited about
is still just fucking trash, okay?
Um, I have to go.
♪ ♪
[loud grinding]
- It's so early.
- It's 2:00 in the afternoon.
- Oh.
Oh, my God.[groans]
[groans]
- Annie had a work thing. - Yeah, gimmie that.
Thank you.
Mmm.
Oh, my God.
- Max, I really fucked up. - Move.
I mean God, babbling to the FBI about Unisphere.
That could be very bad for Annie.
Just, like, so bad.
- Ah, nah, she'll definitely--
It's Annie. She'll be...
She'll be fine.
- Max.
- Shit, what do you want me to say, Cassie?
She was, like, upset, really upset,
and--I don't know, maybe even a little scared.
- Okay, fuck, oh, my God. I hate hearing that.
Okay, okay, let's think. Let's think.
Um, you already got all that info
that Unisphere is doing illegal things,
so if you got that again--
- I wouldn't be able to hack into Unisphere again
from the outside. I tried.
They bulked up their security. - [sighs]
- If maybe I could get inside
on one of their actual computers, then--
- No, no, can't, nope. See, I already went there
and gave a fake name and broke an expensive piece of art.
I'm not allowed back there ever.
- Then shit, I don't know what to tell you.
- Come on.
- I'm sorry. I really am.
- Your hands are shaking.
- [sighs]
Alex, this is really, really bad.
- Yeah, well, things were already bad,
so technically, they'd be worse now.
- Are you serious?
- I mean, I know what you're thinking, Cassie,
but this isn't your fault.
What happened to me isn't your fault.
What happened to Sabrina isn't--
- We don't know that, okay?
What's happening to Annie? That is my fault.
If she gets disbarred, her life is over.
She'll have to move back to Queens,
live with her mom. That's on me.
What can I do? I'm out of leads.
I have no answers! What am I supposed to do!?
- Shh. Just breathe.
[both exhale]
Better?
- Yeah.
[somber music]
♪ ♪
- If you try something, it could just make it worse.
- I have to help Annie.
[glasses clinking] [laughter]
I live in a shoebox.
- It's a competition?
- Yes, major, tell me all about your fancy house.
Tell me, go, tell. - All right, all right.
I can work from home. - Mm.
- It's in a great location. It's got killer views.
- Really? What kind of views?
- The doorman doesn't think so.
He stand out front all day staring at the Vessel,
this giant sculpture. He hates it.
- [laughs]
- [echoing] I can work from home...
- Whoa, why do you have crazy eyes?
- Um, okay, wait.
I think I have an idea
that could clean this whole mess up
and also get Annie off the hook at the exact same time.
- That sounds too good to be true,
so I'm gonna just remove myself from the situation.
- No, no, listen to me. There's a way we can get info
without actually going back to Unisphere,
but it's gonna require your help and um, you know,
us doing some semi-questionable stuff.
- See, this is the kind of thing
where I usually really want to say yes--
- Yes! You just said it.
- No, no, Annie won't like any
"semi-questionable" things,
and you know, I really care about her,
so I'm trying to be on my best behavior here, so please...
- Okay, I get it, Annie is everything to me, okay?
She's the only reason I would ever join,
I don't know, a book club or go kitchen shopping
when I don't even fucking cook.
'Cause it's Annie, right?
I cannot be the reason that she gets in trouble.
So you have to help me help her.
[sly music]
- For Annie.
[train rumbling]
[speaker chatter]
♪ ♪
- Okay, he said it was, like, a new tallish building
with a doorman that is staring at--
[dramatic beats]
Oh, my God. Doorman.
That's gotta be him.
That's gotta be the-- Yes, this is it.
Okay, Max, here's what we're going to do.
We are going to sneak into Alex's apartment.
- - Wait. - What?
You mean break into his apartment?
- Uh, no--well, yes. Look, if he worked from home,
there's a computer in there, right?
- There could be a lot of things in there,
like security systems, or attack dogs,
or whoever killed this Alex guy in the first place.
- Okay, listen, if there are attack dogs,
they haven't eaten in days. They're gonna be very weak.
- Okay, wait, what about all the other stuff I just said?
- Look, we're safer in there than we are out here,
especially with Miranda lurking around.
Plus we get to his computer, we can get all the information
and put it on this. Ha!
- See, I feel like I should enjoy that
because it's adorable,
but it doesn't feel cute in this moment.
- The whole crew got them as gifts in Tokyo.
It lives in my purse because who needs a flash drive?
- A lot of people need flash drives.
- Right, exactly, us. Right now.
It's, like, fate.
- Aw, no, no, I do not like
that I'm actually starting to listen to you.
- Drink this and calm the fuck down.
Let's get some answers.
- [sighs]
♪ ♪
- Hello. How may I help you?
- Hi, my name is, um, Alessandra,
and this my husband Brandon.
And my brother lives here. Well, he did live here.
He actually died. His name is Alex Sokolov.
- Oh, my condolences. I'm so sorry.
Alex was such a nice man.
- Oh, that is so kind. Isn't that so kind?
So our parents are having a really rough time
getting through this,
so I'm sorting out my brother's affairs,
and I would love to get into his apartment.
We will not be long.
I do not want to be staring at that monstrosity
any more than we need to.
- I mean, that is such an eyesore.
- Mm. - It is.
You obviously have good taste.
He obviously has good taste, huh?
So his apartment was 901.
No, honey, that was another apartment that he lived in.
This one-- - It's 1115.
- 1115. That's what I was gonna say.
You know, you are so wonderful.
Thank you so much. We're just so...
Thank you. - Thank you.
[cell phone ringing]
[recorded message] Hey, it's Cassie.
I'll probably call you back. [beeps]
- Mom! - One second, sweetie.
Hi.
- [sighs]
[sighs]
- All right, come on.
[investigative music]
♪ ♪
Hello, go ahead. We don't have all day.
- I break into computers, not homes.
- Oh, my God please tell me you know how this works.
- Only that it requires a multi-digit code.
It could be one of a billion configurations.
- God.
- Wait, wait, wait, wait.
When I was in Westchester at Alex's,
there was a sticky note that said,
"Alex: 7226."
Ha! - How do you remember that?
- Flight 7226 is JFK to Johannesburg.
I know my flights. - What the--
♪ ♪
Okay, this is kind of exciting,
but we should definitely get it done.
♪ ♪
[desolate music]
♪ ♪
- [sighs]
- Hmm. You're nervous.
- What if there are things about you in here
that I don't want to know?
- Wait, you think you'll unravel all my dark secrets
by seeing what brand of olives I buy?
- I'm good with details.
- You know, you could just go home.
[investigative music]
♪ ♪
Is that my apartment?
Here we go!
Mr. Toad's wild ride of New York real estate.
Who will Alex Sokolov turn out to be?
♪ ♪
- Cassie, focus. Come on, the computer.
- Yeah, yeah, yeah.
[cell phone buzzing]
- This is Cecilia. - Hi, it's me.
- Oh, I'm sorry, you're gonna need to be more specific.
The "me" who's in direct violation of Victor
or the "me" who's putting her life and mine in jeopardy
by casually calling me?
- Both, I suppose?
- This is not a joke, Miranda.
- Unisphere receptionist, Sabrina,
had some useful information.
Cassandra Bowden uses an alias,
Alessandra Ricci,
and apparently Alex had some private workstation
in his apartment that I didn't know about.
I need to see if it has a record of what he took.
- Stop.
- Cecilia, if I could stop,
but this is my fuck-up,
and I need to be the one who fixes it.
This is personal.
And you know how agitated I get
when something is unfinished.
- No, no, no, I mean actually stop.
I will not do anything else.
Victor said, "Get on a plane and get home,"
so get on a fucking plane.
[tense music]
♪ ♪
- If I may, I would like to express my sincere gratitude.
- How is your friend,
the one we assisted with the phone call
to the Sokolov family?
- She's okay.
Uh, thank you. Well, mostly.
♪ ♪
She's mostly okay.
- So you will take this into Claverack.
Hand-deliver it to one of your firm's clients,
Jozef Jasar.
You'll tell him that his family will be taken care of.
- [stammering] I could be disbarred.
I could be arrested.
I would be useless to you in that case.
- Well we suggest, then, that you don't get caught
delivering the message.
- - I'm sorry. - I can't.
Um, I can't do that.
Is there-- is there another way?
Is there another option? - We are reasonable.
You may pass on this task if you wish,
and we will happily give you another.
But understand,
the next one will be more difficult.
♪ ♪
[mysterious music]
♪ ♪
- [sighs] - Cassie!
Cassie, I found it!
Okay, this is a direct link
to the external server in his office.
Password. Okay, password.
- Wait, wait, wait.
West914. That has to be it.
- Yeah, people are so lazy with their security.
[suspenseful music]
- What, a second passcode?
- It requires two-factor authentication.
It'll be a randomly-generated number
sent to an app on his phone and probably a fob.
- What do you mean? Like, a key fob?
- Yeah, with a little screen on it.
I can't get into this.
- Ugh!
- [sighs]
The fob will probably be in the apartment.
- Really? - Yeah.
- Okay, well, let's find it.
[Automatic's "Damage"]
♪ ♪
- Oxycodone. Very fun.
- ♪ I hold the key ♪
♪ Without restraint ♪
♪ I call your name ♪
♪ Another good-bye ♪
♪ ♪
- Why do none of these women have faces?
Is this Alex guy, like, a serial killer or something?
- I'll check the closet.
[investigative music]
♪ ♪
Vintage fetish collection...
♪ ♪
In chronological order.
Getting less sexy.
- Well, that's your opinion.
- Don't you think this is all unusual and a tad unexpected?
Wow, you are quite obsessive, huh?
- Oh, I see. This apartment
is telling a story, right?
Well, wrong. This is just--
They're just things, okay?
And because you're using the fob as an excuse
to snoop around, now all that stuff is in here too.
- Okay, whatever. I wasn't using the fob
as an excuse.
- You're judging me.
- You have a taxidermy
baby polar bear in your apartment.
What the fuck is that?
- Maybe it was a gift from my dad.
He had one, remember?
- Oh, okay, and what about the metric ton
of Oxy I found from different doctors
with different names on them. They don't even belong to you!
What are you, addicted? Are you a drug dealer?
What? - I don't fucking know,
and neither do you, but you know what?
I'm really sorry I'm not living up to your expectations.
- Oh, my expectations? - Yeah.
How would you like it if I waltzed through your apartment
and started piecing things together without any context?
- Wh...
[tense music]
- [sighs]
[static buzzes]
- I travel a lot. Things spoil.
I can't fill the fridge. - Well, to me it looks like
a person that can't care for herself as an adult.
♪ ♪
- Those are complimentary.
- Oh. [laughs]
Oh, this is actually pretty self-explanatory.
This says alcoholic.
This image actually undermines my argument
because it's so fucking obvious.
- So I drink a little bit. I'm an adult.
I don't have a problem. - You got in bed with me,
and you didn't noticed I'd been killed.
- The problem wasn't that I was drunk,
the problem was that you did some sneaky shit
and got yourself killed.
- It's not a problem for you? Was it a problem for your dad?
And remember, I've seen his funeral.
- Alex. - This is not fun, is it?
- Stop. - Because to me,
this says you're very much your father's daughter.
- Stop!
- And you can't do any-- - Fuck you!
I am not an alcoholic!
- You want a show? - Fine.
I'll put on a show for you.
[Hole's "Celebrity Skin"]
- ♪ Oh, make me over ♪
- Is this the image you have of me, Alex?
- ♪ I'm all I wanna be ♪
♪ ♪
- Does this look right to you?
♪ ♪
- ♪ In demonology ♪
- [gasps] [heavy breathing]
You son of a bitch. [sighs]
[investigative music]
Max! Max, I think I found it!
♪ ♪
- What? - Is this it?
- Oh, bingo. - Okay.
[door opens]
What was that?
[tense music]
- [whispering]
What was that? - I don't know.
♪ ♪
- [sighs]
Fuck.
[sighs]
Oh, my God. Of course.
- [whispering] Is that Miranda? That's Miranda!
- Shh.
♪ ♪
- Damn it!
♪ ♪
[screams]
[screaming]
[door slams]
- Shh!
- [sighs]
So much for being safer here.
- Oh, my God.
This is useless. It's completely destroyed.
- Don't be such a pessimist. - Agh!
[dramatic music]
Oh, my God, Max.
Wait, I think--I think I found something.
We don't need the fucking computer.
All right, we have to be ready for anything
when we get to Lionfish.
- If we can even get inside.
Why do you keep looking over your shoulder?
- It's a thing I do now.
- Cassie! [laughs]
- Buckley?
What? Hi.
- Yeah, afternoon run,
but I was just thinking about you, and here you are.
- Yeah, um...
- I feel like the universe is telling us to hang out.
That was lame. I'm sorry.
Forget I said that.
Is everything okay with your friend last night?
- Oh, my God. I never texted you back.
I'm sorry, I've been, like... - It's all good.
You're busy, I get it. It's okay.
Are you guys--
- Oh, God, ew, no. That's just Max.
- Ew? - Sorry.
Max. Buckley.
- 'Sup, man.
How do you guys know each other?
- We're actually in a huge rush.
Work, airplane stuff,
but I'm gonna text you back this time, for real,
and we're gonna hang out. - Okay.
- I promise, okay? But we gotta go.
- Okay. - Bye.
♪ ♪
- Call Diana Carlisle, cell.
[cell phone buzzing]
- Yes? - Diana, they asked me
to smuggle a small envelope into--
- I told you. I don't wanna hear about it.
Any arrangement you've made is your business.
- I just...
I thought that maybe if you told me
that you needed me to come back to the office right now,
then maybe I wouldn't have to-- - No.
It is better
that I don't know any of this.
And Jesus, Annie,
discussing it on the phone...
[suspenseful music]
♪ ♪
- Hey. Thanks for this.
- How does a suicide hook you guys?
- Was there a suicide note? - No.
But you'd be surprised.
About 1/3 of them don't leave notes.
That's one of those romantic TV notions.
- She was seeing a therapist.
- Seeing a therapist doesn't equate to suicide.
I see a therapist.
- Me too. Not that it's helpin'.
[chuckles]
- Half-folded laundry on the bed.
- Who kills themselves in the middle of doing laundry?
♪ ♪
New bolt on the door.
- She didn't want someone getting in.
Maybe she was being harassed.
- That woman who called 911,
there's a lot of reports of her
banging the door down, screaming.
Quite the spectacle.
♪ ♪
[mysterious music]
♪ ♪
[horn honks]
- Bill.
- What--
What are you doing at a motel?
- Well, first of all,
please don't use that tone with me, William Briscoe, okay?
No, no, no, and second, why are you following me?
- I'm not following you.
I'm--no, I'm driving to the steakhouse for lunch,
and I see you standing in the parking lot of this--this--
- It's motel, Bill. - It's a low-rent motel.
- So?
I was going
to surprise you with a sexy birthday surprise,
but you just ruined it.
- My birthday's next week.
- Duh. That's why this is a surprise.
I was gonna bring you here tonight
for some dirty roleplay, but forget it.
Okay? Just forget it.
- Wow. That sounds okay.
Can--that--that sounds good. Can we do...
Can we do that? [both laughing]
I wanna do that. - Yes.
[laughs]
Wait a minute.
What did you think I was doing at this motel?
Did you think that I was having an affair?
- No.
- Honey, you don't trust me
after 20-plus years of marriage?
- No, no, no, no, no. Of course I do.
Honey, I am so sorry.
- It's fine. It's okay.
- You sure? - Yes.
I love you. - Hey, I love you too.
- But next time you see me standing in a parking lot
of a motel, don't be stupid.
- Okay.
- I'm'na see you back home. I'm gonna go cancel the room.
- Aw.
- Not the dirty roleplay, though.
Bye, honey.
See you at home.
[sighs]
[dramatic sting]
Whoa.
Is this everything?
♪ ♪
- It's an empty office up front and nothing in here.
This is the big, scary company?
- All right, come on. Door, let's go.
[sighs] Shit.
How are we supp-- - Yeah.
[sly music]
♪ ♪
- I'm sorry. Is that a lockpick?
- Yep.
- I thought you said you didn't know how to do that.
- I just didn't like that you made assumptions about me.
- Yes.
Shh.
- It's okay.
♪ ♪
[rat squeaking]
- Upstairs? - Yeah.
[investigative music]
♪ ♪
[servers humming]
- Fuck yes.
This is a gift.
[buzzer buzzes]
- Remove your jackets, your shoes.
All other personal items,
place them into the bin and head through.
All electronic devices go into a separate bin.
[suspenseful music]
♪ ♪
[beeping]
♪ ♪
This your jacket?
♪ ♪
- Yes.
♪ ♪
- I said all electronics should go into a separate bin.
- [chuckles]
- You grab those on the way out.
- Sorry. Thank you.
- Next. [buzzer buzzes]
- I know you?
- I'm a lawyer
at the firm that represents you.
- I work with your lawyer, - Martin.
I reviewed your case,
and you should know
that Martin is doing an amazing job for you.
- Good. I am happy with him.
- Good.
I know this may sound awkward...
Um...
But could I hold your hand?
Just, um, for a moment.
Please.
[dramatic music]
♪ ♪
I'm supposed to, um...
They told me that your family will be taken care of.
♪ ♪
- Guard.
- [speaking in Korean]
- What is that?
- It's my friend Megan speaking Korean.
- [speaking in Korean] [computer beeping]
- Here we go.
It looks like Alex
took money from Lionfish.
- What?
- He moved it offshore.
- Okay, offshore where?
- That seems intentionally very unclear.
- All right, well, how much money?
- Um... [keys clacking]
Whoa, $200 million.
- What? - Yeah.
[keys clacking] [computer beeping]
- Oh, my God. Oh, my God.
Did they kill him over this money?
- Cas, you need to see this. - No, seriously.
What if they killed him over this money,
or what if they think
I know where the money is,
or that I have the money-- - Cassie!
[dramatic music]
- Okay, but that's my missing ID from Bangkok.
What is this?
- Hey.
- I checked in on her movements.
You're not gonna believe this.
"Bowden and a male companion entered an apartment building
in Hudson Yards," and guess who has a place in that building?
- Alex Sokolov.
- Well, the place is leased to Unisphere,
but yes, Alex Sokolov. - Don't sit on my desk.
- Sokolov's tax returns list an address in Connecticut,
probably to avoid New York City taxes,
but he's getting mail at this place for a year,
and Bowden just waltzed right in.
- She hugged the doorman.
- It's feeling more and more
like they must've met pre-Bangkok.
- Kenneth Bell is also dead.
Is there anyone still breathing on this list of files?
- Uh, there is also another one.
Elena King. She's pending too.
- Okay, what is this?
Me and bunch of dead people? What the fuck is going on?
[ominous music]
Max, that's not Elena King. That's Miranda.
That's her.
- Well, great.
At least you don't need a tower of vodka bottles for this.
- What did you get me involved with?
- It's my fault? I'm dead.
- Oh, sure, sure, sure.
Now there's a huge amount of money missing
that you apparently stole,
and Miranda's just the tip of this homicidal iceberg.
How many people want me dead?
You are so not the good guy anymore.
- You wanted me to be the good guy,
and now you're pissed because I'm not.
- Oh, wow, that is so unfair.
You know, you really put your best foot forward in Bangkok.
- We were on a date.
Of course I was on my best behavior.
- Oh, really?
I'm just supposed to know you're a liar?
I'm just supposed to assume these things, really?
- No, I mean...
Guess at the end of the day,
we're just two strangers in a hotel room.
♪ ♪
- Are you okay?
- [recorded voice] Breathing is essential
in living a centered life. [cell phone buzzing]
- Shit, shit, shit.
Victor. - Hello.
Sounds like you still might be angry that I benched you.
- No, no, no, I'm not mad.
I'm just, you know, frustrated, maybe,
but you were right to send me back.
I was just way too close to that one.
- You were even getting sloppy.
- But you know, with a little bit of distance,
it's really cleared my head.
- No.
No, you have to agree with me.
You were getting sloppy.
[tense music]
- I--I was getting sloppy.
- But now you're back in London,
and we're all good, right?
- Absolutely.
- All right then.
It's just, you're not lying to me, are you?
- Of course not.
♪ ♪
[cell phone beeps]
- [sighs]
- Okay, if we can get this thing
to the FBI before, I don't know, like,
a sniper shoots me in the face or something.
Oh, my God. - Calm down.
There's no sniper that's-- [computer beeping]
- What?
- I can't authenticate myself. - What do you mean?
What are you doing? What are you doing?
- Somebody out there knows we're in here
and is probably en route to us right now.
- Shit! [loud thump]
We gotta--we gotta go this way.
[suspenseful music]
♪ ♪
- Doing it right now.
You know, you don't even realize it.
You didn't just invent a narrative about me,
you're doing it to yourselfas well.
You told yourself you were doing all this to help Annie,
just like you told yourself you wanted to help
the people on that plane.
You say you wanna help people,
but really, you're just attracted to disaster.
You weren't concerned. You were excited.
- It wasn't about helping people.
I was...
I was running towards the crash.
♪ ♪
- Aah!
- [groans] Agh!
[dramatic music]
- Max!
♪ ♪
Max, Max!
♪ ♪
Oh, shit. Hon, are you okay?
[cell phone buzzing]
Help!
[recorded message] Hey, it's Max.
You know what to do. [beeps]
- Hey, it's me.
Um, when I get home tonight,
do you think maybe we could just spend some time together
and um, watch a stupid movie
and maybe... [clears throat]
Eat the rest of the leftover pasta?
- Come back. Come on!
Fuck!
Somebody!
- Yeah, just call me when you get this, okay?
Bye.
[sighs]
♪ ♪
[frenetic jazz music]
♪ ♪