David Mortimer
31 years old born in Hertfordshire.
Lives in Stoke Newington, Hackney

David left family business to move to London to become a writer. He lives with his girlfriend Mia in Church St. She has no idea that things have not been working out with his writing, as he has given her the impression that his novel is about to be published. He loves her deeply, but does not want her to think he is a failure. He has not spoken to his father in five years, as he feels that his father is too controlling and more than anything he wants to prove to him that he can be successful. He is in serious financial trouble. He has loans and overdrafts, his rent is in arrears and unbeknown to his girlfriend, who is working full-time, they are being threatened with eviction. Up until six months ago his brother had been sending him money to help clear his debts. When he refused to send any more money and suggested that David make amends with his father, David cut him off. He owes £4,000 pounds to a debt collector called Denzel, who is am extremely disturbed individual, and for the first time David realises that he is in deep trouble, and he needs help. But it could be too late.

Monologue

My name is David Mortimer. I’m 31 years old…and I’m a writer. I live with my partner Mia in Stoke Newington, just by Church Street. Our flat overlooks Clissold Park. It’s a great place to live. It’s full of really quirky cafes, bars, and shops…and it has the most amazing restaurants. It’s got such a great vibe...and the biggest plus is that you’re never far away from a pub or kebab shop. I grew up in Hertfordshire, surrounded by miles of open countryside and lakes It’s really beautiful there. It’s so quiet…peaceful and remote. But I always felt like there was something holding me back…so… um...I um…I left the family business and moved to London six years ago. That was when I realised that I wanted to write.

Hackney has this great energy. It’s so alive and vibrant around here. You walk down the street and there is so much going on. I find inspiration every single day. Every conversation, or argument, every embrace, or glance has a story. But at the same time there’s…there’s this vulnerability. On every street corner, and…in every shop window, on every park bench… there’s something else. If you look a little closer, behind all the coolness and bravado…behind all the quirkiness. There’s fragility…and fear. Fear of being judged…Fear of rejection….Fear of failure. And it makes you question who you are and everything that you believe in.