Bérénice Fabre

Bérénice is one of the many passengers you can pick up in Night Call.

Passidex entries

 * You have met Bérénice.
 * This is unmissable. You'll get it upon your first interaction.

Just the one entry. Simple.



Transcript
« Place de fêtes. »

The woman getting in your taxi does not look like she's at her best. Mouth lolling open, eyes unfocused, out of breath... she looks like she's just been punched in the gut. Or like she saw a ghost. She struggles to take her backpack off and makes several attempts... the strap gets caught in the buckle of her overalls. She sighs and gets annoyed. During this whole process, she doesn't look up at you once. She takes a deep breath.

BÉRÉNICE: "Place des fêtes."

Her voice is emotionless... more of a trickle than a voice, coming out of a childish body. It sounds like it took every bit of energy she had to get those words out. She takes her phone out of her bag, hesitates, starts swiping left to right and right to left. She's completely absorbed. You think you can make out the reflection of a colourful mobile game in her glasses. Silence settles heavily into the cab. It is broken occasionally by something that sounds like a hiccup... or a repressed sob? At a red light, she raises her head. And lowers it the second her gaze crosses your in the rearview mirror. Something about her makes you feel like you've got something caught in your throat.

« Rough night? »   « You don't look so great. »   (Say nothing.)

She looks up, surprised you broke into her bubble. Her gaze darkens a bit more.

BÉRÉNICE: "Yeah, you might say so."

She is not crying. Not shaking. Just the occasional spasm.

She looks up at you. Slowly. Her gaze is even darker. She looks right at you for a second. It chills you to the bone.

BÉRÉNICE: "Yeah, you might say so."

She is not crying. Not shaking. Just the occasional spasm.

↓

A few seconds go by. You attempt to focus on the road, but despite both of your efforts to pretend nothing is wrong, her emotions invade the cab. She finally takes the plunge, like she's jumping off a cliff.

BÉRÉNICE: "Can I talk to you?"

Still the same trickle of a voice and great lengths taken to control it.

BÉRÉNICE: "I'm sorry, it's stupid, but I think I need someone to talk to."

« I'm listening. »   « Talk to me about what? »   (Ignore her.)

↓

She wiggles around in back.

BÉRÉNICE: "It's not possible. It had to be a bad dream. I am such a total, fucking idiot."

You see her shrinking before your eyes. Absorbing herself in her phone again. Retreating into silence.

She takes a deep breath.

BÉRÉNICE: "I need to say it out loud."

You stay silent. You sense she needs you to be silent.

BÉRÉNICE: "A guy touched me. In that bar."

Her voice is twisted like a nearly-empty tube of toothpaste. Tears collect in her eyes. You feel really heavy.

« What do you mean? »   (Remain silent.)

↓

She starts talking again. Her tone is slightly different. She sounds more confident. Like saying those words out loud made her feel a bit more alive again. Or like she wanted to be stronger.

BÉRÉNICE: "He came up behind me and touched me. Way too much."

Her voice breaks over the last few syllables. The silence in the cab absorbs everything, even the noise of traffic. You don't even hear the ambulance going by, lights flashing.

BÉRÉNICE: "I want to talk about it but I also don't really know what to say."

« Do you want to file a report? »   « Just say whatever comes to mind... »   (Say nothing.)

BÉRÉNICE: "I... I don't think so. I don't have much of anything concrete to report. I don't really feel like going to the police station... I don't want to sit under fluorescent lights, answer questions... I just want a warm blanket... a cup of hot chocolate... And my mum..."

She tries to smile but gets choked up and lets out a painful sob.

↓

BÉRÉNICE: "It took me way too long to understand what was happening. Way too long. I didn't get it. I was petrified."

She looks about 30 years old maybe, or not far from 30, but you get the impression you're driving a little girl who just had her innocence stolen.

BÉRÉNICE: "One minute, I was standing there in the crowd... The Furiosa is like my second home, I always go there to hang out with friends because they all live in the neighbourhood and our places are too small."

She takes a breath. You follow suit, unconsciously.

BÉRÉNICE: "Everything was fine. There was a concert, I was happy. I'd had a bit to drink but not too much. It was packed but the music was sweet. It was a good night. I was having a good night."

Another breath.

BÉRÉNICE: "You know what it's like when you're packed into a crowd like sardines? You don't really know who's touching you but that's just the way crowds are..."

She lays her telephone on the seat and leans forward, elbows on her knees and head in her hands. Her backpack falls on the floor. She doesn't make the slightest move to pick it up.

BÉRÉNICE: "I didn't get it. Fuck! Why didn't I get it? I didn't even react."

She stares at you.

BÉRÉNICE: "Why didn't I react?"

« Maybe it wasn't that big a deal? »   « You should talk to the police about this. »   (Say nothing.)

TBA

She leans ever-so-gently towards you.

BÉRÉNICE: "Sir, you know what? You're right."

For the first time since she sat down in your cab, you feel a sense of relief.

HOUSSINE: "I can drop you off at the station."

You stop to think for a second.

HOUSSINE: "I can even wait with you if you'd like."

She leans over to you.

BÉRÉNICE: "I'd do the same if I were you. And I'm sincerely grateful. But no. Not tonight. I just can't bring myself to do it."

She grabs her back and sits up, suddenly more outspoken.

BÉRÉNICE: "You know, you read story after story about women who've been assaulted... You say to yourself, ok, got it, if it happens to me, I'll rip his head off, make a scene, hit him. He won't get away with it. You convince yourself you're stronger than them, that you know how to protect yourself. Stand up for yourself."

She pauses. Barely. It's hard to bare.

BÉRÉNICE: "I'm so angry with myself... I didn't do anything. I just stood there. Frozen. Like a fucking idiot. Everyone was totally entranced in the concert. They were dancing, drinking, laughing, screaming and I was frozen. It was like a wave of ice had washed over me. Everything around just collapsed. It was like I was stuck inside my own body. All I could feel were his fingers worming their way in. I don't even know how long it lasted. I was disconnected. I let him do it."

Her last words hang in the air and work their way into your thoughts. You become aware of your sweaty hands on the steering wheel. She pauses. Starts talking again.

BÉRÉNICE: "A part of me froze on the spot. Another part was screaming inside. At one point, the crowd shifted, there was a bit of a rush or something. That's when my brain started functioning again. Like someone flipped a switch. I wanted to turn around. But his hand disappeared. I couldn't see who it was and just stood there like an idiot. All that was left was a... a... A normal gathering of normal people. Who does that? I mean, really. Who does that? I ran over to the bar. I don't even know how I got there; I couldn't feel my legs. My friends were still waiting for their beers. I burst into tears."

A brief pause. Just enough to open her eyes wide.

BÉRÉNICE: "I think the worst part was that my friends made fun of me. They saw me walk up in tears. I did my best to explain what happened. And they thought it was hilarious. Oh, come on, Bérénice, they said. Calm down, it's no big deal. Relax. Only my guy friends were there tonight. They're not bad guys, you know? But they're not always so bright. I usually get along better with guys. But I really wished one of the girls had been there. Hearing them laugh was so harsh. When it happened, I didn't really know what to say. I mean, maybe they're right. It was no big deal."

She pauses and looks away.

BÉRÉNICE: "I should never have gone to that concert."

She loses herself in thought. You wonder how you would have reacted if something like that happened to you. You try to remember how you did react...

BÉRÉNICE: "I went outside. Walked around a bit. They didn't even text me or anything."

« You're taking this too seriously. »   « That's not normal. »   (Say nothing.)

TBA

BÉRÉNICE: "No. Nothing about tonight is normal. Nothing... I wish I could make it all go away."

BÉRÉNICE: "I just wish I could make it all go away."

BÉRÉNICE: "That scares the shit out of me. How it's so definitive. Permanent. Unavoidable. I already know it will hang over me my whole life. How I wish I could make it all go away. Turn back time. Like in a video game. F5, F6. Quick save, Quick load. Swish, you erase your mistakes. A moment of absence. some horrible thing happened. Over and done."

You know just what she's talking about. The feeling that suddenly, in one second, a split second, your fate is changed forever. And there's no going back. You expect to see Ade's face in the rearview mirror.

BÉRÉNICE: "Have you ever done anything like that, sir?"

HOUSSINE: "I beg your pardon?"

BÉRÉNICE: "Have you ever... have you ever hurt anyone? Any women?"

She asks the question again, like she thinks you might not have heard it the first time.

« It's... It's not as simple as that. »   (Remain silent.)

Your passenger breathes in. You can hear her leaning in, looking for an answer.

HOUSSINE: "I don't know."

Indeed, you don't know. Images and sounds come to mind in flashes. People suddenly start staring. Faces whose expressions shift in barely noticeable ways. Voices that no longer speak. The sour smell of sweat, the touch of skin that is suddenly chilled... Is it possible that... Each time you blink, you brush off a new image. You speak up again, with a half-smile that's supposed to be reassuring.

HOUSSINE: "Yeah, I probably have hurt women before. But not like that."

↓

BÉRÉNICE: "I'm trying to understand. And you see, I'm sceptical. Sorry... I was thinking about my friends... the way they reacted... In what way is this no big deal? Why exactly should I calm down? If they think I need to calm down, they must think that kind of behaviour is normal. That normal people do that kind of thing. I'm sure they've got friends, a job. I mean, they're not guys who look like serial killers that just escaped from the loony bin. I will never set foot in that bar again. Ever."

You're getting closer to your destination. Her voice sounds far away.

BÉRÉNICE: "Drop me off at the light. I need to walk a bit."

You pull over. She's shaking. It's like you're in slow motion.

BÉRÉNICE: "I'm sorry... for all that."

You mutter something incomprehensible. Actually, you don't really know what you wanted to say anyway. She pays her fare and walks off without a word. You close your eyes for a long while before turning the key in the ignition.

And starts to cry softly, cradling her head in her hands. She says nothing but you sense it's better to let her be. The road goes by. Tears stream down. Something terrible is happening in back but you don't know what to do. The taxi pulls up to place de Fêtes. She pays you but continues to spasm. When she gets out of the cab with her backpack and overalls, you get the impression a little girl is walking away. You sit alone with a strange an unpleasant sensation... Something pulls from somewhere deep in your gut all the way up to the base of you neck... Maybe you feel like you were useless... Incapable of sharing in her loneliness... You feel somehow responsible in spite of yourself. You sigh. And drive off.

