They sat through previews of future programs — a science show on amniocentesis and a nature program that showed grown-up vultures feeding something red and raw to baby vultures.

Healy gave up on the pizza.

The Young Filmmakers program was introduced by a middle-aged Englishman. He referred to Irene Dodd Simons as a young, up-and-coming film maker from Manhattan who never had any formal film training but who'd gotten her experience doing television commercials.

“If they only knew,” Rune said.

The camera closed on him as he said, “And now, our first feature, Epitaph for a Blue Movie Star....”

The fade from black emerged slowly as a gaudy mosaic of Times Square at dusk. Men in raincoats walked past.

A woman's voice: “Adult films. Some people pornography excites, some people it repulses, and some are moved by it to acts of perversion and crime. This is the story of one talented young woman, who made her living in the world of pornography and was pulled down by its gravity of darkness....”

“Did you write that?” Healy asked.

“Shhh.”

Times Square dissolved into abstract colors, which faded and became a black-and-white high school graduation picture.

“Nice effect.”

"... a young actress who searched and never found, who buried her sadness in the only world she understood — the glitzy world of fantasy...

The camera closed in on the high school picture, slowly coming into focus.

“This is the story of Nicole D'Orleans. The life and death of a blue movie star.”

A cut to Nicole, sitting in her apartment, looking out the window, tears on her face, recorded by the unsteady, unseen camera. She was speaking softly. “These movies, the thing is, it's all I can do. I make love good. But I'm such a failure at anything else. I've tried. It doesn't work... It's such a hard feeling, to hate the one thing you're good at.”

Cut back to the high school picture, as the opening credits rolled.

Healy asked, “Who's doing the narration? She's great.”

Rune didn't answer for a moment. Then she said, “I got a pro to do it. An actress in Chicago.”

“A pro? Anybody I'd know?”

“Naw, I doubt it.” Rune tossed the pizza on the table and moved closer to Healy, resting her head against his chest, as the opening credits ended and Nicole's picture faded into the grimy, cold-lit marquee of a movie theater on Eighth Avenue.