This programme contains some strong language.
If I can just get to you.
I know where I'm happy, so I go there.
That's how it works, right?
Are your parents melters, like mine?
"Pack your bags, Viviana.
"We're going home, Vivi."
And what they say goes.
At least wait and get deported, like normal people.
Does my father care about the past four years,
renting our place on Crumlin Road, or working at the hospital?
No, Belfast was "wait and see" for Dada.
And Mama? Scared of Brexit, hates rain. Well, fuck it.
They have nothing to say about us.
I look for you around, but I only ever see you in there,
on the overnight shift.
Maybe you live in the milk fridge?
Or you're a werewolf?
Anyway, you're inside, I'm outside.
You can't leave, I can't go in.
That's how it works.
Mama and Dada never want me talking to people - definitely no boys.
So I'd sneak out, I'd buy crisps, or whatever, and just...
I wasn't breaking any rules, right?
You were behind the window.
The other ones your age all left - moved away, I guess.
But you're still around.
Maybe you're stuck?
Or maybe you just love it here, like me.
When you give me change, you do that wee...
..and it's like the whole city's smiling.
I think about sneaking into the old courthouse with you,
chasing swans in the waterworks,
surfing on the top deck of the 57.
I want you to play me your music.
When Mama and Dada talk about home, I think about you.
I sit on the bridge in town
and watch those birds go mental at sunset, and I think about you.
I think I...
I think I think about you too much.
I came to see you all those nights, and all I wanted to say was...
Sausage rolls.
Please.
What am I like?
And, um, flowers - what you think is nicest.
Oh, God, you're so fucking lovely.
Come get it.
MUSIC PLAYS
CAR HORN TOOTS
CAR HORN BLARES
Here come the melters.
CAR HORN BLARES
SHE SPEAKS IN ROMANIAN
Here's me, and there's you.
This is how this place works.
No matter how long you stay.
CAR HORN BLARES
SHE SPEAKS IN ROMANIAN
That's me away now.
I'll miss you.
Shit.
PA SYSTEM SCREECHES
MUSIC PLAYS
This is how it works.
Dada will give you hell for talking to a boy,
it'll be raining when you land in Bucharest...
..you will never see this ugly-beautiful road again.
A part of you stays where you're happy.
# Somebody better write this down
# Take a photograph of how we are right now
# When we still have things to shout about... #