Behind the Scenes Work (Sept 4)
Jul 10, 2018 23:17:53 GMT -6
Post by Snick on Jul 10, 2018 23:17:53 GMT -6
"Crap, another burn out." Makepeace said, inspecting the lights that the committee would be putting up for the dance. He tapped the bulb a couple times with his finger, and the fairy inside, who couldn't be bothered to muster up any sort of glow, apparently took exception to being called a burnout and immediately crawled out and began giving him the business, cussing him out in a series of unintelligible high-pitched squeaks. "What?" Makepeace asked, shaking his head.
"No, look, tweakerbell... If you don't want to glow, that's fine. We'll go find another fairy... Wait... Look, don't give me that attitude." He didn't know why he was having this discussion with a semi-sentient being whose people couldn't be bothered to press for citizenship, but the fairy seemed bound and determined to give him a piece of her mind. "I don't know what you're getting your undies in a twist for. What, have you been watching Oprah or something?"
Oooh, that did it! The fairy completely lost it, clenching her miniscule fists and her jaw as her wings beat in agitation. And then she hauled off and began hurling handfuls of fairy dust right in Makepeace's face. The boy stumbled back, trying to wipe the dust out of his eyes, but the fairy was on him like white on rice, and he didn't really want to hurt or kill it. "You little dust bunny!" he muttered, and she responded by tossing dust into his mouth and nose, as well, causing him to cough and stumble backwards even further. Back towards the orchestra pit.
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Esther stood there with her hands on her hips smirking. Finally, she decided Makepeace had been punished enough. She went to the fairy, conjured a tiny honeysuckle, and filled it with nectar. Handing it to the fairy, who immediately started to glow, Esther told her, "Thank you, Miss Fairy. What a beautiful light you have!" The fairy's light glowed even brighter.
She pulled Makepeace aside. "You can win more fairies with honey than scorn, Makepeace." She pulled her towel out of her bag and tossed it to Makepeace. "Here, clean yourself up." There was a time when she would have wiped his face for him, but she didn't think he would appreciate it anymore.
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Feeling himself getting pulled, thankfully away from the orchestra pit, Makepeace went along with Esther's guidance, coughing and wiping at his eyes as she administered her remonstration. "How was I supposed to know that? Oy vey." He said, editing out what would have otherwise been a mild curse because Esther was... Well, Esther. He wiped at his dust-filled eyes with her towel, and breathed in her scent from it as he did. So familiar, though in some ways, different than before. How long had he kept her old towel, and breathed in her scent from it before his dorm roommate tossed it in the hamper because of the ink stains.
"I guess I pretty much suck at labor relations." He concluded, lowering the towel from his face and handing it back. Then, as an afterthought, he said, "Thanks for saving me again. You have the makings of a true heroine in the Douglas Adams tradition." He didn't know if Esther would get the reference, since her family was mostly magical, but the important part was that he did, and he thought it was amusing.
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Esther looked at him. He was almost being nice. She remembered when he always was. "I have to save you forty more times before I have the answer to life, the universe, and everything, I think, but I'm prepared to go hitch hiking. Most dancers are, I suppose." She smiled hesitantly at him.
"So, where do you think the second strand should go?"
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He raised an eyebrow at that, and said, "More accurate to say it's in the low thirties. from just the first two years alone." He said, glancing at her sideways as he reached over to grab his backpack. He remembered her coming to his rescue waaaayyyy more times than she did. Possibly because she might not have realized she was rescuing him some of those times. But the past was the past, wasn't it? Whether or not it was her brother that had sabotaged him, or his own stupidity in getting flowers that would wilt so soon after being picked, he had never gotten the chance to be her prince, her knight in shining armor.
He reached into his portfolio and pulled out one of his sketchpads, the one with the sketches he'd made of the cafeteria. After lunch on Friday, the dance committee was going to have classes off so they could decorate the place, which would go much faster with flying brooms and magic, but would still require a lot of effort on their part. "I... think along the back wall, where everyone can see how pretty they all are." And, dear lord, that seemed to get the fairies all revved up despite his earlier faux pas. Suddenly, they were all shining their little hearts out. Hiding his face behind the sketchpad, he shook his head slightly. "Do you think they're going to have a staff DJ this year?" Staff DJ's were the worst, even the young ones. They were a punishment. Last year, at the spring dance, they ended up having Glassman taking over the DJ booth after the Hippie at the console went off the approved song list in favor of some more racy material. Like the uncensored version of 'Closer' by Nine Inch Nails.
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"I hope not. Either hire one or get a student. Pratt could do it. Lots of students could." She grew quiet as she tested more fairy lights.
She looked over at Makepeace, finally deciding to ask what had been weighing on her mind. "You know, you used to be my best friend until three years ago, then, nothing. No, worse. Sometimes it was almost like you couldn't even stand to be in the same room as me. I know people grow apart. It's natural. We grow up, and we don't always grow in the same directions. I can ask now that you are tolerating me at least. But I can't remember what happened. Did I do or say something to hurt you, Makepeace?"
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Makepeace frowned. He had hoped not to go into that. Ever. Yet, didn't she deserve to know? And didn't he deserve to finally put the demons to rest? "Yeah, we were great friends. You were the best one I'd ever had." He said, opening up his portfolio again, and then reaching up to loosen his tie and unbutton the top button of his shirt. He drew a key out from inside his shirt and inserted this into a little silver padlock that kept one of the zippered flex-folders from opening to anyone's scrutiny, save the one with the key.
Opening the flex folder, he reached inside, his arm causing various sheets of parchment paper and canvasses to rustle, and pulled out a portrait he'd done of the two of them when they'd first come to the school. Now painted and magically-animated, it showed the two of them competing in a three-legged race that the school had held for the new kids that year who were a little too shy to go to dances. Young Makepeace's arm was around Esther's waist and her arm was around his shoulders. As they hobbled and hopped, they were getting passed by other teams left and right, but only because they were laughing so hard. Occasionally one of them would whisper something to the other, only to have them both erupt into fresh giggles.
"I was in a foster home before I came to the school. A group home. Nice word for an orphanage. I never said it back then, but you were my best friend. I didn't want to jinx it. That's why I never talk about my home; I don't have one. You probably already guessed that, though. Most kids thought I was just poor or came from a broken family. You told me how good I looked in a suit, and I... Never wanted to wear anything else. Then I made a stupid mistake. I jinxed it." He said, reaching further down into the portfolio and pulling out the hollowed-out book from so long ago. He held it up and opened it up, showing it to her.
The marigold inside the book had not weathered the intervening three years very well. All that was left of it was a shriveled, hook-shaped stem and some debris left from the leaves and petals. As it had mouldered in Makepeace's hollowed-out book, it had stained the piece of parchment that he'd pasted to the back of the compartment so many years ago, but the sole word written upon the parchment was still legible. Written in bold black ink, it begged a single question.
~Me?~
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The happy memories, the three-legged race they laughed themselves silly over as they lost together, the times they had spent having fun and just being there for each other, they were all there in the book. But then there was the flower.
The color drained from Esther's face as she looked at the dried up marigold stem and the 'Me?' "I didn't know. I'm sorry." Ian had told her that day about the meaning of the flowers. Ian, could he have known they were from Makepeace?
She looked up at Makepeace. "Why didn't you tell me? We could have had a short fight and been mad and made up and then been best friends again for the last three years! Instead, you let one stupid thing I did when I was thirteen ruin everything! Even in baseball, you get three strikes and four fouls. But you wrote off your best friend because she made one stupid mistake and assumed a bunch of bullies who were after us anyway left the flowers as a joke! I'm sorry I hurt your feelings. But you were an idiot to think we couldn't talk about it and work it out then, and now you wasted three years."
Her quick temper flared and she balled her hands into fists. She wanted to kick him in the shins, shove him onto his backside, slap him, punch him in the gutt, anything. "I can't believe you held this against me all this time and didn't even let me know!" She felt angry tears threatening to fall. "You think you're all superior, hanging on to your precious hurt, and I couldn't even fix it, because I didn't know what I did!" She picked up her gym bag and pulled her wand out. "I think that's the most selfish and proud thing I've ever known you to do. I hope it made you happy and was worth the price, Makepeace." She pointed her wand at him, thinking about casting a sneezing charm on him, but then changing her mind. She put her wand away, deciding to stay a lady in spite of her temper.
She turned her back to him and went back to checking the fairy lights, angrily wiping the tears from her face.
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Makepeace was silent for a long time, stewing in his anger, wanting to say something mean in turn, wanting to pick up the towel and throw it right back in her face, feeling like crap for not knowing what to do with his feelings. He sat down next to his portfolio and looked at the painting of the two of them together. "I don't know." He told her, shaking his head. "Maybe I was selfish, maybe I was proud... Maybe I was afraid of being hurt more. And don't you think for one minute that I didn't miss out on those last three years, either."
The turmoil of the moment was like a kick to the stomach, which started roiling with hurt. "When I put those flowers outside your door, Ian saw me. Should I have accused him of sabotaging me when he's been nothing but nice to me?" He asked. "We both know your older brothers are protective of you. Not that it matters any more, because they've all graduated."
He frowned, staring at her back. "You think I think I'm all superior? Bulls... Bull." He said, cutting himself off from actually swearing. "All I could think of when you told me what those flowers meant was, yeah, I was desperate. Desperate for your approval, desperate to be better than I was, desperate to be worthy of you. I was just some stupid kid, and I thought I was in love with you, and I was hurt and... Then I had that nervous breakdown in class." He said, picking up the hollowed-out book and standing.
"I wasn't good enough. I was just the stray puppy that followed you around everywhere." He said, looking at the book. "I don't even know why you even liked me, but you did. But I was selfish, and I wanted more." He frowned, gripping the book tightly, wanting to rip it up.
"It hurt me to be near you." He concluded, unable to even look at her back.
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Worthy of her? What did that mean? There was nothing to be worthy of. They had been best friends, equals. She ignored the part about him being in love with her--he had thought he was, obviously he had not been--how else could he have been so cruel?
"I wasn't the one who ruined things. You were. I was stupid and young and silly and listened to the big brother I loved tell me what all the silly flowers meant. But you were the one who let me continue in my ignorance. You were the one who let it blow up into something far bigger than it ever should have been. You destroyed our friendship, not me!" She kept her back to him, not wanting him to see her angry tears.
"Just finish the fairy lights so we can get out of here, Makepeace." She didn't want to stay in the same room with him any longer than she had to.
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"Yeah, I ruined things." He muttered. "I destroyed our friendship. You won't ever hear me say different, Esther. I was selfish." He shook his head, picking up another string of lights and going through it. Some of the fairies were giving him accusing looks, others looks of sympathy... But all of the drama had them sitting up and paying attention. And glowing. Little bitches. "I was in... Infatuated with you." He wasn't going to say the L-word again, because it hurt too much. "I was hurt and stupid and I threw away the best thing that... No. The best friend I ever had." He set down the lights and sighed, walking over to pick up his portfolio.
"I know it doesn't mean anything three years later, but I'm sorry." He said, heading for the door. Then he stopped.
"And thank you. For the good times we had together." He said, his voice becoming scratchy. "You got me through... a lot."
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"You're welcome," she whispered. Never mind that he hadn't been there for her. She just wanted to be friends again, but he hadn't left an opening for that, had he?
Esther waited for him to leave, then stopped at the girls room. All the upset had upset more than her emotions. She let her stomach empty what was left her of last meal, then rinsed out her mouth and washed her face before returning to join others, looking as if nothing had happened.
"No, look, tweakerbell... If you don't want to glow, that's fine. We'll go find another fairy... Wait... Look, don't give me that attitude." He didn't know why he was having this discussion with a semi-sentient being whose people couldn't be bothered to press for citizenship, but the fairy seemed bound and determined to give him a piece of her mind. "I don't know what you're getting your undies in a twist for. What, have you been watching Oprah or something?"
Oooh, that did it! The fairy completely lost it, clenching her miniscule fists and her jaw as her wings beat in agitation. And then she hauled off and began hurling handfuls of fairy dust right in Makepeace's face. The boy stumbled back, trying to wipe the dust out of his eyes, but the fairy was on him like white on rice, and he didn't really want to hurt or kill it. "You little dust bunny!" he muttered, and she responded by tossing dust into his mouth and nose, as well, causing him to cough and stumble backwards even further. Back towards the orchestra pit.
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Esther stood there with her hands on her hips smirking. Finally, she decided Makepeace had been punished enough. She went to the fairy, conjured a tiny honeysuckle, and filled it with nectar. Handing it to the fairy, who immediately started to glow, Esther told her, "Thank you, Miss Fairy. What a beautiful light you have!" The fairy's light glowed even brighter.
She pulled Makepeace aside. "You can win more fairies with honey than scorn, Makepeace." She pulled her towel out of her bag and tossed it to Makepeace. "Here, clean yourself up." There was a time when she would have wiped his face for him, but she didn't think he would appreciate it anymore.
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Feeling himself getting pulled, thankfully away from the orchestra pit, Makepeace went along with Esther's guidance, coughing and wiping at his eyes as she administered her remonstration. "How was I supposed to know that? Oy vey." He said, editing out what would have otherwise been a mild curse because Esther was... Well, Esther. He wiped at his dust-filled eyes with her towel, and breathed in her scent from it as he did. So familiar, though in some ways, different than before. How long had he kept her old towel, and breathed in her scent from it before his dorm roommate tossed it in the hamper because of the ink stains.
"I guess I pretty much suck at labor relations." He concluded, lowering the towel from his face and handing it back. Then, as an afterthought, he said, "Thanks for saving me again. You have the makings of a true heroine in the Douglas Adams tradition." He didn't know if Esther would get the reference, since her family was mostly magical, but the important part was that he did, and he thought it was amusing.
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Esther looked at him. He was almost being nice. She remembered when he always was. "I have to save you forty more times before I have the answer to life, the universe, and everything, I think, but I'm prepared to go hitch hiking. Most dancers are, I suppose." She smiled hesitantly at him.
"So, where do you think the second strand should go?"
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He raised an eyebrow at that, and said, "More accurate to say it's in the low thirties. from just the first two years alone." He said, glancing at her sideways as he reached over to grab his backpack. He remembered her coming to his rescue waaaayyyy more times than she did. Possibly because she might not have realized she was rescuing him some of those times. But the past was the past, wasn't it? Whether or not it was her brother that had sabotaged him, or his own stupidity in getting flowers that would wilt so soon after being picked, he had never gotten the chance to be her prince, her knight in shining armor.
He reached into his portfolio and pulled out one of his sketchpads, the one with the sketches he'd made of the cafeteria. After lunch on Friday, the dance committee was going to have classes off so they could decorate the place, which would go much faster with flying brooms and magic, but would still require a lot of effort on their part. "I... think along the back wall, where everyone can see how pretty they all are." And, dear lord, that seemed to get the fairies all revved up despite his earlier faux pas. Suddenly, they were all shining their little hearts out. Hiding his face behind the sketchpad, he shook his head slightly. "Do you think they're going to have a staff DJ this year?" Staff DJ's were the worst, even the young ones. They were a punishment. Last year, at the spring dance, they ended up having Glassman taking over the DJ booth after the Hippie at the console went off the approved song list in favor of some more racy material. Like the uncensored version of 'Closer' by Nine Inch Nails.
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"I hope not. Either hire one or get a student. Pratt could do it. Lots of students could." She grew quiet as she tested more fairy lights.
She looked over at Makepeace, finally deciding to ask what had been weighing on her mind. "You know, you used to be my best friend until three years ago, then, nothing. No, worse. Sometimes it was almost like you couldn't even stand to be in the same room as me. I know people grow apart. It's natural. We grow up, and we don't always grow in the same directions. I can ask now that you are tolerating me at least. But I can't remember what happened. Did I do or say something to hurt you, Makepeace?"
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Makepeace frowned. He had hoped not to go into that. Ever. Yet, didn't she deserve to know? And didn't he deserve to finally put the demons to rest? "Yeah, we were great friends. You were the best one I'd ever had." He said, opening up his portfolio again, and then reaching up to loosen his tie and unbutton the top button of his shirt. He drew a key out from inside his shirt and inserted this into a little silver padlock that kept one of the zippered flex-folders from opening to anyone's scrutiny, save the one with the key.
Opening the flex folder, he reached inside, his arm causing various sheets of parchment paper and canvasses to rustle, and pulled out a portrait he'd done of the two of them when they'd first come to the school. Now painted and magically-animated, it showed the two of them competing in a three-legged race that the school had held for the new kids that year who were a little too shy to go to dances. Young Makepeace's arm was around Esther's waist and her arm was around his shoulders. As they hobbled and hopped, they were getting passed by other teams left and right, but only because they were laughing so hard. Occasionally one of them would whisper something to the other, only to have them both erupt into fresh giggles.
"I was in a foster home before I came to the school. A group home. Nice word for an orphanage. I never said it back then, but you were my best friend. I didn't want to jinx it. That's why I never talk about my home; I don't have one. You probably already guessed that, though. Most kids thought I was just poor or came from a broken family. You told me how good I looked in a suit, and I... Never wanted to wear anything else. Then I made a stupid mistake. I jinxed it." He said, reaching further down into the portfolio and pulling out the hollowed-out book from so long ago. He held it up and opened it up, showing it to her.
The marigold inside the book had not weathered the intervening three years very well. All that was left of it was a shriveled, hook-shaped stem and some debris left from the leaves and petals. As it had mouldered in Makepeace's hollowed-out book, it had stained the piece of parchment that he'd pasted to the back of the compartment so many years ago, but the sole word written upon the parchment was still legible. Written in bold black ink, it begged a single question.
~Me?~
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The happy memories, the three-legged race they laughed themselves silly over as they lost together, the times they had spent having fun and just being there for each other, they were all there in the book. But then there was the flower.
The color drained from Esther's face as she looked at the dried up marigold stem and the 'Me?' "I didn't know. I'm sorry." Ian had told her that day about the meaning of the flowers. Ian, could he have known they were from Makepeace?
She looked up at Makepeace. "Why didn't you tell me? We could have had a short fight and been mad and made up and then been best friends again for the last three years! Instead, you let one stupid thing I did when I was thirteen ruin everything! Even in baseball, you get three strikes and four fouls. But you wrote off your best friend because she made one stupid mistake and assumed a bunch of bullies who were after us anyway left the flowers as a joke! I'm sorry I hurt your feelings. But you were an idiot to think we couldn't talk about it and work it out then, and now you wasted three years."
Her quick temper flared and she balled her hands into fists. She wanted to kick him in the shins, shove him onto his backside, slap him, punch him in the gutt, anything. "I can't believe you held this against me all this time and didn't even let me know!" She felt angry tears threatening to fall. "You think you're all superior, hanging on to your precious hurt, and I couldn't even fix it, because I didn't know what I did!" She picked up her gym bag and pulled her wand out. "I think that's the most selfish and proud thing I've ever known you to do. I hope it made you happy and was worth the price, Makepeace." She pointed her wand at him, thinking about casting a sneezing charm on him, but then changing her mind. She put her wand away, deciding to stay a lady in spite of her temper.
She turned her back to him and went back to checking the fairy lights, angrily wiping the tears from her face.
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Makepeace was silent for a long time, stewing in his anger, wanting to say something mean in turn, wanting to pick up the towel and throw it right back in her face, feeling like crap for not knowing what to do with his feelings. He sat down next to his portfolio and looked at the painting of the two of them together. "I don't know." He told her, shaking his head. "Maybe I was selfish, maybe I was proud... Maybe I was afraid of being hurt more. And don't you think for one minute that I didn't miss out on those last three years, either."
The turmoil of the moment was like a kick to the stomach, which started roiling with hurt. "When I put those flowers outside your door, Ian saw me. Should I have accused him of sabotaging me when he's been nothing but nice to me?" He asked. "We both know your older brothers are protective of you. Not that it matters any more, because they've all graduated."
He frowned, staring at her back. "You think I think I'm all superior? Bulls... Bull." He said, cutting himself off from actually swearing. "All I could think of when you told me what those flowers meant was, yeah, I was desperate. Desperate for your approval, desperate to be better than I was, desperate to be worthy of you. I was just some stupid kid, and I thought I was in love with you, and I was hurt and... Then I had that nervous breakdown in class." He said, picking up the hollowed-out book and standing.
"I wasn't good enough. I was just the stray puppy that followed you around everywhere." He said, looking at the book. "I don't even know why you even liked me, but you did. But I was selfish, and I wanted more." He frowned, gripping the book tightly, wanting to rip it up.
"It hurt me to be near you." He concluded, unable to even look at her back.
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Worthy of her? What did that mean? There was nothing to be worthy of. They had been best friends, equals. She ignored the part about him being in love with her--he had thought he was, obviously he had not been--how else could he have been so cruel?
"I wasn't the one who ruined things. You were. I was stupid and young and silly and listened to the big brother I loved tell me what all the silly flowers meant. But you were the one who let me continue in my ignorance. You were the one who let it blow up into something far bigger than it ever should have been. You destroyed our friendship, not me!" She kept her back to him, not wanting him to see her angry tears.
"Just finish the fairy lights so we can get out of here, Makepeace." She didn't want to stay in the same room with him any longer than she had to.
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"Yeah, I ruined things." He muttered. "I destroyed our friendship. You won't ever hear me say different, Esther. I was selfish." He shook his head, picking up another string of lights and going through it. Some of the fairies were giving him accusing looks, others looks of sympathy... But all of the drama had them sitting up and paying attention. And glowing. Little bitches. "I was in... Infatuated with you." He wasn't going to say the L-word again, because it hurt too much. "I was hurt and stupid and I threw away the best thing that... No. The best friend I ever had." He set down the lights and sighed, walking over to pick up his portfolio.
"I know it doesn't mean anything three years later, but I'm sorry." He said, heading for the door. Then he stopped.
"And thank you. For the good times we had together." He said, his voice becoming scratchy. "You got me through... a lot."
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"You're welcome," she whispered. Never mind that he hadn't been there for her. She just wanted to be friends again, but he hadn't left an opening for that, had he?
Esther waited for him to leave, then stopped at the girls room. All the upset had upset more than her emotions. She let her stomach empty what was left her of last meal, then rinsed out her mouth and washed her face before returning to join others, looking as if nothing had happened.