Production year: 2023
Brie is a short story about the ick as well as cause and effect. It’s my first dark comedy. Note: If reading the story on a mobile, turn your phone to landscape for line formatting purposes.
Hi, I’m Brie. Before you start with the cheese jokes…my parents didn’t name me after cheese.
They actually named me after where they shagged.
Anyway, I hate cheese. I hate the texture. It’s like eating a big rubber.
I’m actually allergic to rubber. Well latex anyway. I realised that during a one night stand with a 40 year old man called Jason. It wasn’t great for me.
Probably wasn’t great for Jason either.
I met Jason in a club called Dash.
I was in one of those moods. You know, the kind of mood where you just want to see if you’re still worth it.
Anyway, here’s the story. Ready. Steady. Go.
So I’m sitting at the bar, sipping on a double gin and slimline tonic. I’m almost in competition with myself to see who I can pull.
I notice Jason across the dance floor, looking at my freshly shaved legs. Hungry.
I catch his eye briefly as I start to stroke my thigh. I can see it’s driving him mad but to be honest, I’ve actually got an itch there. New washing powder.
He makes his way over. God, his watch looks really expensive.
“What are you doing sitting here on your own?” he says.
“Waiting for you to buy me a drink.” I say.
Three drinks and a dance later and we’re in a taxi with his hand up my skirt asking me my favourite position.
I try to think of the right answer but all I can feel is Jason’s big nose digging into my neck as he tries to kiss it. I’m sure his nose wasn’t this big in the club. I guess it was a bit dark though.
Oh well, he’s got a nice bod and I think he might be rich.
We fall into his flat.
“Nice flat.” I say.
“Wanna drink?” he says.
“Got anything else?” I say.
He serves two white lines on his kitchen table and we share.
He gives me a grand tour of the flat. It looks so domesticated. Lovely plants in the bathroom. I have a good nosey look. Is that a Calathea?
Suddenly I’m rushed into the bedroom. Jason’s got a big bed and these super silky black sheets.
“Like my silky black sheets?” He says.
“Oh my god they’re so lush.” I say.
A big fat lie but he looks so proud I just can’t.
I feel myself swallowing a bit of sick as Jason pulls me into his arms. We launch into a kissing frenzy, taking all of our clothes off as fast as we can.
Jason puts on a condom and awkwardly tries to move me so he’s behind the action. I haven’t even had time to take my heels off yet and they’re really starting to hurt my feet too.
Jason pulls my hair back and makes me look into his wall mirror.
Must not look at nose.
Now my heels are finally off on the floor. Yay. I look down and see more heels joining them. A little family of heels. I also see a box of kids toys. Weird.
I try to make sense of the heels and the toys but I’m distracted. Jason’s nose is now making some weird gurgling sound as he builds momentum.
I wonder if he has a breathing problem.
I wonder if he snores.
I hate guys that snore. Especially if I have uni the next day.
I feel the need to stop and give Jason some advice to see a doctor but I can’t really talk. Besides, he’s talking quite a lot. Lots of random sex whispering that I can’t really understand most of the time between the gurgling.
I squint with one eye just to get my vision right and catch a photo on his bedside table. A woman, a baby and Jason. She’s wearing a wedding ring. Oh shit Brie, a married man. Homewrecker, this was not the plan.
The collection of heels and the baby toys make sense now. Never trust a man with a big nose.
I’m too drunk to have a go at him. Bastard.
He pulls my hair back so that I look into the mirror again.
My head starts to spin and his nose gurgles again.
Mirror. Family photo. Head. Spinning. Mirror. Family photo. Heels. Gurgling. Affair. Head. Spinning. Mirror. Water. Fuck. I need water. I feel a burning sensation then intense pain.
I sporadically throw up all over Jason’s favourite silk black sheets. I fall off the bed onto the floor and start shaking uncontrollably.
God I hope he’s not angry.
As I lie on the floor gradually losing consciousness, frothing at the mouth, the family of heels are in my line of sight. I stare lovingly at his wife’s Louboutins that are sat right next to my budget heels from New Look.
She’s got azimuth leather. Bitch.
I’d never had a fit before. It was like an out-of-body experience. I couldn’t move or think.
When I regained consciousness, I was lying on the hospital entrance curb, fully dressed with a paramedic shining a bright light into my pretty eyeball.
Jason was gone. I felt a bit sorry for myself. I guess he had to get back to the fam. Sleaze.
Anyway, it wasn’t the coke-gin cocktail that launched me into my fabulous fit frenzy. Nope. It was my sensational allergic reaction to Jason’s latex condom.
Walking out of A&E into the rain, I didn’t have Jason’s number to tell him the urgent news. Not at how I had managed to somehow survive our drink, coke-fuelled latex shagfest…but the fact I was wearing a pair of Christian Louboutin heels that didn’t belong to me.
Behind the story
“Brie” evolved from a short story about a one night stand with a little cause and effect to one about the ‘ick’. I wanted to add little moments in the story that would play on perspective. There have been a few different interpretations of the ending and the shoes from different readers but in any case Jason will likely be found out (a bit of crime and punishment). There will be a short film of Brie (I’m currently in pre-production).