Warning: This work has been rated 18+ for language.
Author's note: Since this is meant to be a musical, I've marked breaks where the songs will be. There is an opening number before the text below, which consists of all the teenagers at the party gossiping about Quinn's questionable mental state as well as other exploits of their peers. I would like to be notified of plot holes, potentially offensive phrases, and boring parts. I do not need to know about technical errors (e.g. misspellings, missing commas, etc.).
Also note: "Tag" is Quinn's hallucinated Tag-Along. Quinn refers to him as Jackson because he does not know that he isn't real. However, Quinn never answers Tag at a normal volume. He always addresses him privately.
Quinn sits against a door in a bathroom. Noises of a party can be heard in the background.
Quinn (with a phone recording): This is Quinn Averly, coming to you live from the bathroom of Cordelia’s house. It’s about three in the morning here, and everyone is completely shitfaced. Except me of course, cause y’know, meds. (A pause, then under his breath.) Ugh, why am I like this. (Regular volume.) I swear someone was bleeding on a couch in the other room, so I took video. That one raised a red flag, so I’m taking this one. They’re playing Mr. Brightside, which I think is a trigger song. Maybe you can hear it. Maybe it’s a hallucination. No, hallucinations don’t work like that. Anyway, three o’clock and I might be insane. (He stops the recording and plays it back, checking for inaccuracies.) Okay, good. We’re good. (He deletes the video.)
Tag (lounging in the bathtub): But what if we’re not?
Quinn: Shut up, we’re totally good.
Tag: But what if?
Quinn: We’re fine. The recording matched.
Tag: You like to tell yourself that.
Quinn: I will kick you out of this bathroom.
Tag: And how do you plan on doing that?
Quinn: I’ll find a way.
Tag: Not likely.
(Quinn picks up a toilet paper roll from the ground next to the sink and throws it at Tag, who dodges.)
Kannon (shouting over the music): Quinn? Where are you?
Quinn: The bathroom!
Quinn: I drank a lot of water.
Kannon: You haven’t drunk anything all day. Huh, would it be drank or drunk?
(Kannon knocks on the door; Quinn jumps up and steps back. Tag snickers)
Quinn: I don’t care.
Kannon: Are you okay?
Quinn: Yeah, I’m fine. I’ve never been finer.
Kannon: Finer. That’s a great word. Finer.
Tag: No it's not. It’s not even that complicated. Kjæreste. That’s a great word. Means significant other in Norwegian. Oh, or psithrism. It’s the sound of wind through trees. I love that word.
Quinn: How much have you had?
(Tag shrugs, but Kannon thinks the question was directed at him)
Kannon: One can. I’m just buzzed.
Kannon: Okay, maybe two or three. What does it matter?
Tag: I’m going to guess eight.
(Quinn presses his cheek to the door in order to better hear Kannon.)
Quinn (ignoring Tag): Your parents, dipshit.
Kannon: They won’t mind.
Quinn: The hell they won’t.
Kannon: They won’t. They’ll never know it happened. Have you been getting sick?
Quinn: No, why?
Tag: Now who’s the liar?
Kannon: Come out of the bathroom. It’s a party, man. Come enjoy it!
Quinn: Go ahead without me. I’m not a party person.
Kannon: I’m not leaving until you come out of there. You like Gatorade, right?
Quinn: It’s my cocktail of choice, yes.
Kannon: I’ll get you some. C’mon, come out of there.
(Quinn straightens his shirt in the mirror and prepares to leave. Tag laughs.)
Tag: Nice outfit. It really brings out your eyes.
Quinn: Shut up.
(Quinn exits the bathroom and heads into the party. He rubs his eyes.)
Kannon: Are you sure you’re okay?
Quinn: I told you I am, so let’s just leave it. I’m just tired is all. It’s three in the morning. Civilized people shouldn’t be up this late.
Kannon: Well, we are.
Tag (suddenly angry): Yeah, Quinn. We are. This is your fault, y’know? You’re the one who insisted we go to Cordelia’s party. We were supposed to get drunk and live it up, except being the medicated killjoy that you are, that can’t happen. Fuck, I hate you so mu—
Quinn: (shakes his head) Sorry, I’m really out of it. So, what are we going to do?
Kannon: Everything. Everyone! (He winks) No, but really. We’re going to have fun. I wouldn’t suggest dancing anymore, because the drunk girls have entirely taken over. They’ve got hard rock playing in there, and they’re waltzing to it.
(As Quinn walks through the throng, people covered in blood intermingle with the normal partygoers. Kannon greets many of the blood people, but Quinn backs away. Of course, they aren't really covered in blood. It's only Quinn's addled brain.)
Tag (whispering): Sorry for talking like that. It’s unpredictable. But I think you need to do another check. Make a recording now, okay? Something is definitely wrong.
Quinn (responding under breath): It’s not real.
Tag: How do you know that? Maybe it is this time. Maybe this is the one time where it’s real.
Quinn: What are the odds of that?
Tag: There’s enough of a chance.
Quinn: How can you say that?
Tag: What if it’s finally real this time, and they kill you? Better safe than sorry.
(Quinn pulls out his phone to record the scene.)
Quinn (to Kannon): I think I have to go to the bathroom again.
Kannon: Dude, you are totally sick.
Quinn: I’m not, I’m totally fine. I’ll be back in like fifteen minutes. Just enjoy the party without me.
Kannon: I’m going to hold you to that, though.
(A song comes in here. Since I will post the lyrics separately later, all you need to know for plot reasons is that Quinn ends up throwing a vase at a wall in order to kill something that doesn't exist. Panic sets in.)
Tag: Wow, look what you’ve done. I bet they paid a fortune for that vase. Look what you’ve done.
Tag: You have to get out of here. We both do. C’mon, we can exit through the front door and sprint through the backyard to get home. No one will notice.
(Quinn exits the bathroom. Instantly a couple people make a rush to get inside. All of the partygoers make a lot of noise.)
Quinn: Jackson, my head.
Tag: Yeah, I know, it hurts. It always does. Suck it up and get out of here. Look at all these people, staring at you. They know what you’ve done. Hell, the police are probably already on their way. They’re going to put you in prison for destruction of property. You know what people do to you in prison?
(The walls start oozing blood. More and more people are showing up covered in blood on top of their normal party attire. Kannon is nowhere to be seen.)
Tag: You are fucking lucky to have me as your Tag-Along. C’mon, we’re leaving.