Rufus: Lily. Are you shopping for some art to match your furniture?
Lily: Why is my daughter going to one of your concerts?
Rufus: 'Cause we're awesome.
Lily: With your son.
Rufus: Dan scored a date with Serena?
Lily: Mm hm.
Rufus: Well our kids were bound to meet. It's a small island.
Lily: Are you sure it's not some ploy—you're using my daughter to get to me now that your wife left you?
Rufus: How do you know about Allison?
Lily: Like you said, small island.
Rufus: Oh, I get it. You hear about Allison, use your daughter as an excuse to start something.
Lily: In your dreams.
Rufus: Well you are in my dreams, Lily. And one in particular recurs. It involves finding you in the back of a Nine Inch Nails tour bus with your shoes in your earrings and Trent Reznor. Oh, that happened.
Lily: No need to rehash details of decades past. So I moved on.
Rufus: Yeah. From Trent
Lily: You think you're so cute. Washed-up band. Crappy so-called art gallery.
Rufus: Well. Not all of us have settlements from multiple divorces to sustain us.
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