It's a page long story, a synopsis is un-necessary.

Two men sit at a coffee table inside a French Cafe. One wears a suit, the other rags. The man in rags looks visibly relaxed while his counterpart is leaned forwards, elbows on the table. 

Stephan "I understand why you choose to believe as you do, but I fail to comprehend how it affects my work." 

Ivan "God gave you this gift Stephan! Failing to recognize it is, is... a smack in the face for him." 

Stephan "But the screenplay, it's good, no?"

Ivan "Well, yes... you really aught to thank him for this amazing gift he's given you."

The man in rags looked visibly angry. The cafe began to empty of people and the sun set it's final rays over the horizon. 

Stephan "When I was a child, I used to write stories. Some the other children did not like because it had no god in them. I did not think it necessary to include one, so I was absent minded about it. Yet they were not, they did not like the teacher giving me more praise then them, this was a slip up. It started years of bullying, casting me out of popularity for not being as Christian than the rest. But I keep on writing. I keep dressing as I wish, I keep uh... I keep myself. I don't let them make me. Every night, I prayed to god."

Ivan (impatient) "Get to the point Stephan, it's late."

Stephan "Alright... what I am trying to say is that god plays no part in who I am. I made myself into who I am today. So your insistence that I am incredible merely because of god is... there is no greater insult. Goodnight, Mr. Stephan."

The ragged man stands up to leave, briskly making for the cafe's exit. Stephan clumsily stands up, knocking coffee onto his coat and on Ivan's jeans. Ivan stops to look at Stephan. 

Stephan "Ow, good god, I'm truly sorry my man you must be burnt! Maybe we got off on the wrong foot, I shouldn't have said anything about you personally. The deal's still there for it, we could make a killer of a movie. We'll make you rich, beyond rich. Come on Ivan, what do you say?"

Ivan "I'm not a slave to money so frankly I don't give a damn."

The ragged man walks out of the cafe alone, a man dead inside. His script stayed on the table. In the days to come, Ivan would kill himself and his script "Departure" would become infamous. Only a few would ever see it for what it was, not a cheery musical but a satire of life, a suicide note. 

The End

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