Twenty-five years after his formative summer, C. Jat stands in an alley behind a church, sick and aware he is dying. He reflects on death, the value of taking life for granted, and the rebellious joy of wasting time and making art. Louisa, realizing who he is, is overwhelmed and tells him his art inspired hers; he counters that her art is her own.

Sirens and shouts approach as a security guard and police close in. Laughing, C. Jat tells Louisa to run and live boldly, handing her the spray can. Louisa asks him to keep the can for their next meeting and he makes her promise not to hurt herself. She flees in tears as police round the corner.

Alone, C. Jat thinks about his youth on the pier, his lifelong fear, and the costs of fame: critics, commodification of his work, panic attacks, and feeling alienated from his own success. He longs for anonymity and the simple companionship of his teenage friends. He frames his paintings as attempts to show the beauty he wishes he had and to process grief over a lost “best human.”

As officers reach him, he accidentally sprays pink paint onto a blue-uniformed policeman when he loses balance, then is wrestled down and hits his head, bleeding. The narration clarifies he is not homeless; he recently sold his apartment to buy something connected to the box Louisa saw, and his dirty appearance came from being knocked down earlier. The nearby cat is not his and actually belongs to a well-off household.

While police lift the weakened artist, a slim, well-dressed man with glasses—Ted—runs from the auction, glimpses Louisa escaping, and catches C. Jat as he slips. Ted chastises the officers for rough handling and, upon seeing the skulls on the wall, recognizes the work as C. Jat’s. He cradles the frail artist and asks what happened.

With his eyes closed, C. Jat recognizes Ted’s voice and gasps a plea: “Don’t let them catch her, Ted! She’s one of us!” The scene ends with Ted holding the injured artist, the police present, and Louisa gone.