2007-06-14: Next Time on One Life to Live...


Erin_icon.gif Taine_icon.gif

Summary: Jane Doe speaks with Doctor Pryce about her condition, and her life hangs in the balance!

Date It Happened: 14 JUNE 2007

Next Time on One Life to Live…


Last time on One Life to Live… A mysterious girl found herself in a mysterious place with a MYSTERIOUS DOCTOR.

Also, other stuff happened.

Today, she's awake and sitting up in bed, still connected to a whole bunch of machines that are beeping now and then as they indicate her vitals are looking A-OK. Her head is still bandaged, though her hair looks as if she's just stepped out of a salon, because that's how things work on soap operas. One of the nurses seems to have brought her some magazines; they sit in a stack on the stand next to her bed. She has one open in her lap, which she's paging through as a woman in scrubs fusses over her. It's not too long before the nurse heads toward the door, carrying a tray out of the room.


As the nurse exits, someone else holds the door open for her, a smile on his handsome face, and then he steps inside as well. "Good afternoon, Jane," he says, in a personable tone, voice stressing vowels in a different way than normally heard in these parts. Not her name most likely, they both know that, but unknown females tend to get Jane Doe written down as their name until their identity is discovered. "I'm here to check you over." With the nurse leaving, he closes the door behind him and steps over to the counter top, pulling out a few instruments. A hammer, a few poking things and those things that doctors use to look in eyes and ears.

"Feeling any better today? Any changes in sensations? We need to make sure that the head trauma didn't cause any other problems." No doubt something he's told her many times.


Oh, god, that voice. Something about it makes the woman in the bed cringe, and she does, blue eyes looking up from her reading to focus on the doctor. Who knows why she doesn't like him? Whatever the reason, the dislike is pretty plainly written on her face. "That's not my name," is her greeting, as she gives him another few seconds of that cold stare, before she goes back to reading the magazine.

Still, she's stuck with this guy, and while she could easily ask for another doctor, Pryce is apparently one of the best. And she wants her memory back.

"What do you mean by 'feeling better?'" she asks. "Yesterday you told me that I have amnesia. I tried to walk, but my legs hurt too much." There's a recap for everyone who missed yesterday's episode. "What do you want me to tell you?"


Doctors don't need to be liked, as long as they get the job done, isn't that right? Dr. Pryce is indeed one of the best, as has been said many times by nurses, doctors, hallway workers… "It's only polite to refer to the patient by a name, and unfortunately that's the one assigned to you," he says in the same accent, reaching up to push back his hair from his eyes, giving her a long look. Though she's wearing an expression of dislike, he has a more neutral look, that's gearing towards annoyed as she speaks.

"You had head trauma. We need to make sure amnesia is your only problem before we try anything that might reverse your condition," he explains, sounding patient, but again… it's almost a recap. Pulling out another instrument, a stethascope, he rests it around his neck and steps forward. The heart rate monitor shows what her pulse is, but… "

He stands there a long moment, looking towards the magazine, "Still being able to read is a good sign."


They should be finding out what her name /is./ "There has to be someone in this city who knows who I am," she says. "Even if you say I was hitchhiking." Seriously, how far could she have gotten? "Seems to me like if someone was going to hurt me, they would have done it before driving me a few hundred miles." Then again, who really knows?

She sets the magazine aside, because even if she doesn't like him, he's supposedly here to help her. "So, Jane Doe. That's the best you can do? Guess I can live with it." Until they find out who she is. Another glance is given the the magazine. "What about something like… Joy, or Carmen, or… I mean, how many Jane Does are there in here already?"

Probably not that many, really. "Yeah, I don't have problems reading. Sometimes my eyes get blurry, though. I don't know if it's because I'm tired or what."


Most the Jane Does out there are probably unidentified corpses. So she's a lucky Jane Doe in that respect.

"We've put out a bulletin on the local news network. If anyone recognizes you, or has any information on what happened to you, they've been asked to call the police department. Could take a few days before anyone comes forward." Or it could take a few hours. Dr. Pryce would rather place things in a safety zone, though not so negative as to tell her they may never know. "Good news is your fingerprints came up clean, so you don't have a criminal record."

That should be good news— except when it'd tell them who she is.

"If you don't like the name, then we can always put another one down." Names are names. But… blurry vision. Reaching for one of the instruments, he steps even closer and gestures for her to sit up, "Let me have a look in your eyes." With this bright light reminicent of a near death experience!


At least they're looking. That's the best they can do at this point, and even though the woman is still frowning, she can grudgingly accept that. "Jane's fine. I don't want to get used to something I like only to find out my real name is worse." It's so plain, though. That might be what bothers her the most. It'll be disappointing to find out that's her /actual name./

"It's just… funny. I remember seeing the people in these magazines. And when I read about them, it's like I know who they are. But I don't actually remember any of them. Does that make sense? Kind of like… When you want to say something, and you know what it is, but you can't get the words out." At least she's not a criminal, so that's good news. She wasn't running from the law.

Blue eyes open wide so that the doctor can get a good look in them. It's nothing, right? She's just TIRED, right?!"


"Fair enough," the doctor says, blue eyes sliding over the magazine. As if that were something important. There's a lot that could be said here, but all he can do is look at her for a long moment, quietly sincere. Dramatic close up time. With perfect hair swept to one side, a lock hanging down across his forehead in a whimsical manner.

"Could be you recall some minor details, then. We'll run you through some psychological tests to see if it triggers any memories, one we know you're physically healthy." Cause memories might come back after seeing a picture, or something from her life…

But what she gets to see now is a bright light shining into her eyes, starting with the right. There's a pause, before he moves to the left.

Then he blinks, drawing away from the scope quickly, and letting it drop.

Dramatic pause.

"We need to get you moved to another room, right now. You have a blood clot forming in your eye. Probably from the trauma." Oh no! Moving away, he picks up a phone to call someone.


As the camera zooms in on Pryce and is off the patient for a moment, the actor behind the amnesiac tries not to crack a smile and ruin the scene. She succeeds.

"I'd love to remember something. Sometimes I think I have dreams…" Flashes of her life, or wishful thinking? "Nothing helps, though. I guess since it's only been a day since I opened my eyes, I might have some time before I get my memory back." A little bit more recap, for those just tuning in.

"Jane" trails off, though, as the doctor takes a peek into her eyes. She really doesn't expect anything to be wrong, because she got hit on the head, apparently, and now her vision is a little blurry. That's nothing to be concerned over, right? "…What!?" she asks. And as if on cue, perhaps because of the fright she just got from being told she has a blood clot in her eye, she faints, flopping back down onto her pillow, as one arm hangs over the edge of the bed.


As she faints, Dr. Pryce turns, with the phone in his hand, the reciever held near his face. Again with the close up. And then… the scene is done. Someone calls CUT in the background. And that take, all the angles, should be usable. Hanging up the phone, Taine lets out a soft chuckle that he'd been fighting for the last seven lines of the script. Not because of what she had to say about this, but because…

This storyline is bloody ridiculous.

"The set didn't fall apart, at least," he comments in the same accent, a smirk forming on his lips as he waits for the young woman to sit back up. He's not looking forward to his next scene, which won't be with her conscious. Blood on his gloves will be bad enough. At least the audience isn't expecting to see more than that. If he actually had to cut on anyone… even pretend…

"We done for the day?" he looks towards the guys in charge of filming, but they need to watch the cut playthrough once before they decide.


Y—yeah, it's just a little ridiculous, but the fact is, people /love/ this stuff. Smiling, Erin pushes herself up on her elbows and looks toward the cameras, then back at Taine. "Nope, no falling tiles today." She looks upward, catching sight of the half ceiling above them for the low-angle shots, and thanks to the repairs done before, they look like they're going to hold.

And this could be worse. The writers haven't put every single soap opera cliche into this storyline. /Yet./ Erin's just waiting for the script when she finds out she's pregnant, or has a twin- possibly an evil twin. Hey, /this could very well happen./ In fact, the liklihood that it /will/ happen increases with every episode she's in.

Swinging her feet over the bed, she stands and stretches. With the time she's been lying down, she needs to get on her feet for awhile. "We should be. I guess you get to save my life tomorrow, huh? They didn't give me a script, 'cuz I don't have any lines." Most unconscious people don't, and she's apparently going to be unconscious for a few more episodes after this, too.

After awhile, the guys watching the playback seem to decide that there's not enough cause to re-shoot the scene, and someone says something about printing it. "So, my character's name cleared legal. I could tell you what it is."


Moving closer, so that he can settle into the stool that's close by, Taine nods at the question about the script. "Yeah, save your eye sight in one eye, at least. Your life might not have been in danger," he says with a shrug, but then again… "Though the script plays it up like you would be. Then you're getting moved into another area, for further examinations." Maybe when they'll discover the alien baby growing inside of her! Or something. But he's not read that far ahead. Normally, talking about a script is a bad idea unless someone's supposed to have it, but she's going to need to lay there and listen to them anyway. Might as well asure her she's not going to die tragically.

Though that would have been a waste of legal's time to clear her name, wouldn't it?

At the talk of printing, he smiles, glancing back towards them, and staying seated for a time, with all of his attention on the woman standing and stretching. She's still got a lot of props hanging off of her. "Really? Good to know you have a name. What is it?"


Ah, so she could be blind in one eye? That's cool. And something that'll be forgotten completely on the show in a couple months, despite the fact that all the fans will remember it. And it'll be mentioned in moments of high drama, because it's /dramatic./ This is the life of a soap opera cast. "All I have to do is lay on the table and pretend to be unconscious. And, you know try not to laugh at you." At least it seems like she's a little less antagonistic toward Taine today. He seems to be keeping his distance, though.

Clearing the name is the first step in Erin's hopes to grab a contract, though she's still recurring for the forseeable future. This storyline could end in her death, who knows? No one, 'til she sees the scripts. At any rate, at least she's got a job on the set if her characer bites the dust. That happens a lot on soaps.

Then again, she could die, only to return as her own twin sister.

"It's Morgan Starr," she says, the expression on her face almost incredulous. Seriously, you can't get much worse than that. It's a pretty name, at least. "What do you think?" Pulling the bandages off with all the tubes and wires, she sets it on the nightstand with the magazines.


Could have been blind in one eye! Of course the amazing Dr. Pryce will keep this from ever happening. He's just that good. But yes, it would still get brought up in dramatic situations. That eye she's looking out a year from now? She has it because of him. She should be grateful! And the distance Taine's keeping may not last too long, because he's openly watching her as she gets herself ready to head off to the dressing room area.

"Morgan Starr," he repeats with a raised eyebrow, actually making the name sound just a little bit different with his accent. Sliding off the stool, he finally stands on his own two feet, moving just a little closer, but keeping the bed between them. A distance, after all, may be required.

"It's not terrible. Still don't know what my first name is— could be something worse." Men's names don't tend to be quite as bad as the women's names, he noticed. Pryce isn't too bad. Then again… "I could be Dr. Pryce forever." While he has a contract, that doesn't mean he's going to be used often. And it's a short term, one. Only lasting for a year. They could easily downgrade him to a background character.

"…have you given any thought to dinner?" Okay, maybe he can't keep his distance entirely.


Oh-ho! Certainly, this condition will show up later at a most inopportune time, though. Who knows? Anyway, with Doc Pryce saving the life of her eye (Eyes?) she'll remain perfect forever! Until her next mishap.

Soap opera characters don't scar, though. It'll be okay.

"I like it," she says with the tone of someone who kind of /has/ to. "At least it's not Jane, you know? Jane Doe, hah. Wonder how long I'll keep that name." She doesn't really know much about the charater's future beyond what she's been told. She's a newcomer to the city, and… that's basically it. And she can't help feeling like she's being slowly nudged into a romantic relationship with her doctor. Then again, when you put two soap characters of opposite genders in front of a camera together, y'know it's going to lead /somewhere./

"You're persistant, aren't you?" she asks. Really, he's not such a bad guy, but Erin's stubborn, and she's not so willing to give in. "Answer's still — " Pause. "Maybe. But not tonight."


When you put two people of opposite gender who happen to be pretty and straight /anywhere/ together it could lead to somewhere? Right? In the eyes of some…

But Taine has to nod, smiling faintly, "Jane Doe isn't my favorite name to say either, so hopefully we'll figure out your name is Morgan Starr soon. Maybe someone will call in and recognize you." But that's not shown up in the scripts yet. All they can do is speculate as much as the audience does. And they don't give them scripts far enough ahead to have much insight beyond the next day of filming…

"Thought you'd say that," he says after a moment. Thought he'd be told not tonight? Yes, he did. Maybe is better than 'hell no', though. "I'll see you tomorrow, Erin," he says with that same accent that even makes her name sound slightly different. Not in a bad way, of course. Just different. Not going to press when he at least got a maybe, he starts to move away before glancing back and adding, "Oh yeah. You have really nice eyes." He noticed when he had to stare intently into them. He doesn't even keep watching to see a reaction, turning back with a flip of blond hair, before he makes his way towards the dressing rooms.


Plus, Erin already said he's reasonably attractive, and what girl /wouldn't/ find that accent amazing? She can resist, though, because she /must./ They just met, she hardly knows him. Besides, she has a career to focus on. One night out to dinner couldn't hurt, though, and she already knows she'll cave eventually. It could be right after work, they could just go to the local McDonald's. Nothing formal, just so they can talk. It's not like she's going to be able to avoid him, even if she's not filming.

"See you tomorrow," she echoes, turning in the opposite direction as if she's more interested in the crew than Taine. Still, when he comments on her eyes, she does look over her shoulder, smiling, and for a moment, it almost seems as if she might give in. In fact, she /herself/ is almost afraid she's going to shout something silly, like 'wait up' or the like, but she catches herself. "Nice try," Erin states, arching her eyebrows.

It's not too long after Taine departs that Erin heads for wardrobe so she can get some proper clothes on, then she'll need to work on a bar set for next week before she even thinks about heading home. "You wouldn't have been able to go out to dinner, anyway," she tells herself as she pulls the bandage off her head.

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