he stands next to a ruggedly handsome and extremely nauseous
bleaching his teeth.  finishing.  smiling in the mirror.  this is the bleached smile of fear--true fear--the awful state of having lost your way. the phone rings. matt clears his voice before answering.
as the song continues in intensity, matt enters the building at the end of a repeated phrase cutting off the song as we move to:
going over his lines. hearing his name, he rises. claire gestures him in.
a split second to consider, then he's out of his car.
watching intently. not watching--studying.  not studying-- fully appreciating. now he sees a particularly good moment-- looks around joyously for half a beat--a reflex to share what he saw. his neighbors, not quite knowing what he's smiling at; he returns his attention to the screen.
a devil's weight lifted from his shoulders. the slap-happy smile of the just saved plastered on his face.
off in the distance, the popcorn execs contentedly ply their trade. as he overhears their conversation and the words begin to register in all their horror.
happy that jeannie is behaving so well.
stricken.
as he lets her go.
stopping his impulse to go to her--he continues to observe.