Chapter Text
"Hey, Christine!"
She looked up and saw Jeremy coming over to her table, with Michael following a step behind. He set his tray down across from her and quickly took a seat. "Hi," he said again, smiling. Michael sat down beside him, fiddling with his headphones like he hadn't decided if he would put them on or not. He greeted Christine with a wave and smile of his own.
"Hey, guys," she said, sitting up. "How's the day been so far? I thought I was gonna have a quiz today in history, but it turns out that's gonna be on Friday. Which is good, because I haven't really studied the chapter yet. How are you?"
Jeremy picked up a tater tot and held it in the air as he thought. "I'm good! Uh, not much has happened really today for me. I saw Rich do a cartwheel in the hall."
She laughed. "Oh my God, he did? He's so ridiculous."
"It was a pretty good cartwheel," Michael said. "Think he practices?"
"I don't think he practices so much as he's just always moving and jumping around." She ate a Dorito. "I bet he'd be really good at gymnastics."
"He probably would," Jeremy agreed. "Short guys are good at that, right? I mean, shorter guys are kind of better at it. Like, it's... easier to do stuff because they're short? I think...?" He trailed off and put the tater tot in his mouth.
"Yeah, I think so." Michael took a long drink of his soda. "He seems to just like dancing, though. He should be a dancer."
"You know what I think?" Christine leaned forward on her elbows, grinning. "I think he'd make a great Spot Conlon from Newsies."
Jeremy laughed. "He would! He totally would, he'd be perfect!" They chuckled at the idea, while Michael shoved half a sandwich in his mouth before asking, somewhat muffled, "Why, is Spot Conlon short?"
"Short, muscular, and loud," Christine told him happily. "Rich would rock that role."
Michael grinned. "Nice."
"Hey!" Jeremy said suddenly. "Um, speaking of Spot Conlon, and Newsies, and shows in general, uh. Is there..." He gestured vaguely. "Is there any news - ha, news - that you wanna share with us? Like... something that happened over the weekend...?"
Christine looked at him blankly, watching as he grew slightly uncomfortable with her lack of response. Michael looked a little concerned.
"Did you... not get...?" he started.
Then she smirked, reached into her backpack, and pulled out the script for the show she had just been cast in. She slapped it down on the lunch table proudly. "Read it and weep!" she crowed.
"You got a part!" Both the boys cheered. Michael grabbed the script and pulled it toward him. "What's your character's name?" he asked, flipping through the pages.
"Did you get a big role?" Jeremy asked excitedly, peering over Michael's shoulder.
Christine tapped her fingers on the table with a grin. "Yes! I got a really important part! I mean, all the parts are important, you know, but like, you couldn't have the show at all without my character! Guys." She leaned over conspiratorially. "I'm the main antagonist!"
The two of them looked up at her, surprised and excited. "You're playing the bad guy?" Michael said eagerly. "That's so cool! Villains are awesome!"
"Yeah!" Jeremy agreed. "I can't believe you're gonna be the antagonist! I mean, I can, you're a great actress, you can play any part, but - I mean you're so nice, you know?"
"I was a little surprised, too!" Christine told him. "But I'm not gonna let the director regret it, I'm gonna practice until I am the character! It's gonna be great!" She tapped her fingers even quicker, beating a staccato rhythm on the table. "I've been reading and memorizing my lines every second I get since I got the script. I have tons of lines."
"Hell yeah, you do!" Michael continued turning the pages of the script, taking in the many, many highlighted passages. "This is so much to memorize." He handed the book to Jeremy. "How and why do you guys do this?"
"Because it's so fun!" She said happily. Suddenly a thought occurred to her; Michael was right, she did have a ton of stuff to memorize. And she knew from experience that it's better to have someone to read lines with you when you're rehearsing so that you weren't just saying your lines into an empty room without anyone to prompt or respond to you. And Jeremy liked acting too, so maybe -
"Hey Jeremy, would you help me practice my lines sometime?"
Jeremy looked up from the script. "Help you practice? Like, you want me to read for the other characters?"
She nodded. "Yeah! It'll help me get it down faster. Maybe you could come over sometimes after school?"
Jeremy flushed a little and ducked his head, smiling. "Um, yeah, I think that'd be great! I could do that! It'll be fun!"
Michael glanced over and grinned at Jeremy, who pushed his face even further into Christine's script. One of Michael's hands was playing with the cord of his headphones, and as she watched him twist and twine it around his fingers another idea came to her.
"Michael, do you want to help too?" she asked. Michael paused and tilted his head.
"With your rehearsing? You want me to read lines too?"
"I mean, you could read lines if you want, but I was thinking you could watch me and Jeremy go back and forth and tell us what you think of how we're doing it. You'd have the perspective of the audience, and you could critique my body language and expressions and stuff!" She smiled brightly. "Like a junior director!"
Both boys laughed at that. "Watch you and Jeremy, huh? Critique the performance? Sure, why the hell not!" Michael threw his hands up dramatically. "Junior Director Michael Mell it is!" he proclaimed, loud enough that a few kids from another table turned to glance at them.
She and Jeremy giggled. "Perfect!" she said. "Are you guys doing anything today after school? We could start away! Rehearsal is only three nights a week right now because there's another production at the same theater, so the more practice the better."
"Wow, only three nights a week?" Jeremy asked, surprised. "Two shows are playing at once?"
She nodded. "Yeah, but it's not for very long; I think their opening night is next Friday, and they close on a Wednesday. Our rehearsal will get bumped up to five nights a week as soon as they're finished. So like I said, I really gotta practice on my own a lot!"
"Well, I mean, I'm not really doing anything after school today, so I could help you practice!" He turned to Michael. "Uh, Michael, what about you? Do you have plans?"
"Yeah, I was gonna go feed squirrels at the park and then help some old ladies cross the street," he said with a smartass grin. "Maybe get in some community service if I have the time, you know, picking up litter and such. So my afternoon's pretty booked."
Jeremy rolled his eyes and shoved him lightly, while Christine snickered. Michael laughed and shoved Jeremy back. "Really, though," he said, "I'm not doing anything. I could definitely help tonight."
"Awesome!" She took back her script and put it back in her bag. Then she pulled out her phone and sent quick a text. Jeremy's phone buzzed, and as he brought it out of his pocket to check it she explained, "I just sent you my address. Oh hey, this'll be your first time over at my house! Michael, you wanna give me your number so I can send it to you too?"
She handed her phone over for Michael to enter his number, then texted him the address. His phone buzzed too, and she sat back happily. It was all set!
"See you guys after school, then! Probably around four or four-thirty would be best." She spied a Kit-Kat hiding in Michael's lunch spread. "Oooh. Hey, Michael, you wanna share that?"
Michael grabbed the candy and started unwrapping it. "As a matter of fact, I don't."
"Awww..." she whined, giving him a begging expression. "Come on, pleeeease?"
"Come on, share with us, Michael!" Jeremy jumped in. "Candy's always better with friends!"
"That's why I'm eating it in front of you guys," Michael smirked, taking a bite out all four Kit-Kat bars at once. She and Jeremy wailed and mourned as Michael chewed, a huge smile on his face.
"So, give us all the details on this show," Jeremy said, once she had finished giving him and Michael a quick tour around her house. They were in the upstairs TV room, lounging on the couches as Christine flipped through her script. "You didn't really say much about it before you got cast, and Michael doesn't know anything about it."
She took a deep breath. "Well, it's about a girl in high school; she's pretty normal, and her single father loves her, but he's kind of distant and hard for her to connect with, and she gets targeted by these other girls who are bullies a lot. They're really terrible to her, and the leader of the bully group is my character, who gets revealed to be a literal demon, with her lackeys being lesser demons. It turns out the protagonist is descended from a long line of demon hunters, who are protectors of humanity and sometimes even work together with angels to stop demons from doing horrible things. The man she thought was her dad was actually an angel who failed to keep her parents from dying on their last fateful mission, so he took on a human form to raise her, but he wasn't the best at it because, you know, he's an angel, he doesn't know how to be a parent. But he protected her all her life, and when the demon-bully tries to attack her he steps in to fight, but together they banish him to a prison deep in Hell and hide his angelic signature so no other angels will know he needs help."
She paused for another deep breath and continued. "The girl manages to escape while they're busy doing all that, and runs away and hides in an abandoned nursing home she used to visit when she was little; she would perform skits for the seniors and do crafts with them, it was a children's group thing, like scouts or something like that. And while she's hiding there she finds an old woman who was there in the home years ago when it was still in use. It turns out that the woman is actually a demon, but she regrets all the things she's done and she wants to go home to Heaven and be an angel like she used to be before she fell from grace. She'd tried for decades to find a way to redeem herself, while avoiding angels and other demons who would attack her at the same time, but nothing she did worked and eventually she just sorta gave up on anything and disguised herself as an elderly woman and stayed in the nursing home, even after it shut down."
She took another breath and pressed on, feeling slightly light-headed. "She remembers the protagonist from when she used to visit as a child, and once she tells her what had happened, she promises to teach the girl how to fight the demons and help her rescue her angel-dad. So they train in fighting and magic, and sometimes they have to sneak out to find supplies to make things like curse-repelling charms and clothes that can protect against Hellfire and knives dipped in a special poison to make them effective against demons. But every night while the girl sleeps, my character, the main demon, enters her dreams and attacks her psychologically. She insults and demeans her and makes horrible threats, and taunts her by talking about how what happened to her angel-dad and real parents was her fault, and tells her they're all being tortured in Hell and there's nothing she can do about it. She awful."
One last, huge breath. "But the girl keeps training, and then, on Christmas Eve, she and the old demon go out to battle; they do it on Christmas because it's a Holy Day and they've both prayed to Heaven for strength and victory. They fight the demons, and they manage to kill all of them except the main one, my character, and then the old demon makes a sacrifice on the battlefield to free the girl's angel-dad from his prison and bring him there at the cost of her own life. The angel-dad helps the girl finally destroy the main demon, and they have a tearful reunion, and go home. He tells her that my character was lying and that her real parents are in Heaven, and she'll see them there someday. She asks him what happened to the old demon who sacrificed herself to rescue him from Hell, and it turns out that she was allowed to become an angel again, and she's decided to take on a human form just like the girl's angel-dad and become her angel-mom! The play ends with them becoming a family, and the girl says that she might want to follow in her parents' footsteps and become a full-on demon hunter, but she thinks she'll wait a while before she decides."
She finished, a little breathless, and Michael and Jeremy looked at her in awe.
"Wow," Jeremy said, eyes wide.
"Sick," Michael grinned.
She grinned back at him. "I know, right? It's such a cool play!" She glanced down at the script in her hands and turned to the page with her first lines on them, right at the beginning. "Okay, Jeremy, my first lines in the play are me bullying the main character in the hall at school. I've got the first couple memorized pretty well, so uh, I guess just stand over here with the script and read for the protagonist, and give me my line if I need it, okay? And Michael, um, you just sit here on the couch and watch, alright?"
"Sure thing." Michael stretched out on the couch as Jeremy got up to stand across from her, taking the script and scanning the page quickly. Christine shook herself and planted her feet, imagining herself as a vicious bully, a demon in disguise. Think mean, she told herself. Channel your inner terrible person.
"I'm ready whenever you are!" she said. Jeremy nodded shifted his grip on the book nervously. "Yeah, same here!" he answered, still glancing down at the lines.
"Alright then," Michael called. "Action!"
Jeremy cleared his throat and began. "I've been thinking about what the guidance counselor said about trying activities together," he said to an imaginary companion. "And my dad might not really get it, but I'm sure he wouldn't say no. I mean, what helps parents and kids bond more than going camping, you know?"
"Wow," Christine drawled, aiming for superiority and distaste in her tone. "Still seeing the guidance counselor. Is it weird being the only kid in school who even knows where that office is?"
Jeremy looked at the script quickly. "Whatever, it's none of your business. Just stop bothering me." he read.
"I hope you're not trying to tell me what to do, sweetheart," she said, putting a hint of threat in her voice. "Because, see, that's now how this works. You're my little toy bitch I get to play with. You don't get to give orders here. That's what I do. And what do you do?"
Another darting glance to the script, and Jeremy replied, "God, please..."
"No gods here, honey. Devils only. Now," she brought in as much ice and steel as she could and said, "Tell me what you do."
"When you say 'swallow' I say 'yes ma'am'," Jeremy answered, a bit of color rising to his face. Christine couldn't blame him; it was a hell of a line.
"There we go," she said, satisfied. "I really shouldn't have to remind you so often. Your idiocy is so tedious. You can go now."
Christine's lines ended at that point, as the protagonist slunk away and the story continued. They were all silent for a moment, before she turned to Michael and asked, "So, how was that? What'd you think?"
"Damn," Michael said. He looked impressed and a little unsettled. "That's some hardcore harassment right there. I know you said your character is a literal demon bully from Hell, but like - wow."
She ducked her head, a little bashful. "Yeah, it's pretty bad. It's definitely not the kind of role I'm used to playing. So, do you think I was, you know - mean enough? Did I have that confidence and cruelty that bullies have?" The questions poured out of her, as she replayed her own performance in her head, searching for ways to improve it. "Do I need to be more sadistic?"
Jeremy coughed. She looked over and saw he had an encouraging smile, standing a little awkwardly. "Um, I thought - I mean, from this end, it was pretty, uh. I think you did it well! There was - passion, and um, you know. It was good!"
"You think so?" she asked eagerly. "There was passion? Because, you know, this character - I'm trying to make it seem like she sees you - your character, the girl - as nothing, like dirt, but at the same time she has to be really intense about making sure the girl never tries to fight her, or even just ignore her. She wants to dominate this girl's entire school experience, and make her miserable. So it's a delicate balance, you know? There's disdain for her, and there's focus on her, because she sees her as so far beneath her but at the same time her reactions and her submission to her are important. Does that make sense?" she asked, hoping they were following along.
Thankfully, both boys nodded. "I get what you're saying," Michael said. "Bullies are complex. I mean, they're shallow, stupid assholes, but you know. Their motivations, and what they get out being the worst people ever... all of that. I get you." He put his chin in his hand and looked at the both of them, considering. "I think you did a pretty good job of having a mean tone of voice. The - pacing?" he glanced at her, questioningly, and she nodded. She had wondered about the pacing of how she'd delivered the lines. "The pacing," he continued, "it's probably just because you haven't practiced this for very long, but I think you need to slow down in some places and really enunciate, put emphasis on what you're saying; like - can I see that?" he gestured for Jeremy to hand him the script. He traced a finger down the page until he found what he wanted. "Right here," he said, standing up to show Christine where he was pointing. "When you say, 'No gods here, honey. Devils only,' I think you should say it slowly and really intensely, and then when you say 'Now, tell me what you do,' - which I think you said really well, by the way - it will be super chilling, you know?"
"Yeah," she agreed. "I think you're right. Pacing is so important when you're saying your lines; I mean, obviously every part of what you're doing is important when you're in character, but you know, if there's a list of everything from most to least important, pacing's definitely way up there."
She took the script back from Michael and turned to Jeremy. "Do you want to run through that again, or should we go over some of my other lines?" She had most of her lines in the first act fairly well-memorized so she could do it either way.
"Uh - " Jeremy looked a little distracted, but he shook himself and said, "I can, um. We can run through it again. I think that'd be good." He took a deep breath and blew it out, ruffling the hair that hung over his forehead. She wondered if he thought it was too warm in the room; he seemed a bit sweaty. But he seemed to get sweaty when he was nervous, so maybe he was just worried he wasn't doing a good job of helping her practice.
She smiled encouragingly at him. "Okay, great! Thanks again to both of you for helping me, you're doing great!"
Jeremy looked down, hiding a shy smile and even deeper flush. Oh, he was cute. Her smile widened as she watched him get it back together. Michael made a noise, almost like a squashed laugh, and turned around to sit on the couch again. She glanced at him, then turned back to Jeremy and handed him the script.
"Alright!" she said. "Ready when you are!"
"Action!" Michael called.
They practiced for about forty-five minutes, keeping to the first act since they had decided to focus on delivery rather than memorization. Christine only needed to be reminded of her line a few times, a fact that pleased her greatly. Despite only being a Junior Director, Michael had good insight and was very helpful in helping her figure out which way of saying this or that line worked best. Jeremy had opinions of his own on things like tone and volume, and by the end he hardly needed to look down at the script at all to know what he was supposed to say (unless she needed her line given to her, in which case he would glance at it to make sure he had it right).
"Okay, guys," she said. "I think that's good for today. Thank you both so much! This really helped."
"Sure thing!" Michael got up and stretched, looking over at Jeremy. "I think I'm gonna go home, you wanna come with me? My mom went grocery shopping yesterday so we've got snacks. Still gonna stop at 7/11, though."
"Yeah, I'll come. My dad probably won't be home yet anyway." The small bit of pride he said this with was easy to see; Christine knew he was really happy at how well his dad was doing at his new job, and it made her happy too. Things had really gotten better for Jeremy in a lot of ways since the whole Squip thing had come to a head. She was glad for him.
They hadn't talked about the Squip and everything that had happened in a while. It had been almost a month since the disaster at the school play; people still thought the entire cast, including her and Mr. Reyes, had done ecstasy. She wasn't too happy about what that had done to the way people saw her. It was hard to have conversations about how much she loved acting and wanted to be a professional one day when the people she was gushing to thought she had gotten high on party drugs right before a performance. They judged her, and how real her passion was, and she couldn't tell them the truth because no one would ever believe it.
Sometimes it was hard not to think about what it had been like, having the Squip in her brain. The way she felt, all perfect and bright and confident and invincible and so sure, so sure that everything would turn out how it should because the voice in her head was calling the shots. All she had to do was listen and obey.
And then the pain when Jeremy gave her the Mountain Dew Red, the panic, the splitting migraine that hurt so much she screamed and thought she would die. The nauseous, dizzy, empty feeling when she woke up and was alone in her mind again, the simultaneous freedom and fear, and the shame from realizing how much she had liked the ease and simplicity of obeying the Squip, and the fact that she almost wished she could have it back.
She dragged herself out of her thoughts long enough to walk the boys to the front door and see them off. "Bye, guys!" she waved, putting an easy smile on her face as they got in Michael's car and waved back. She was pretty good at faking smiles; it was one of the perks of being an actor. Jeremy and Michael certainly didn't notice it was anything but genuine.
Once they started down the road and she closed the door, standing alone in the entry hall, her bitter, swirling thoughts came back.
She tried not to be angry at Jeremy. She knew that holding a grudge wouldn't do her any good, wouldn't change what had happened, but - really, who else was there to be angry at? Sure, Jenna had switched the elixir from the play with Squip pills and Mountain Dew, but she wouldn't have if Jeremy hadn't personally given her a Squip in the first place. Rich was the one who had told Jeremy about Squips, true, but even after having a Squip for two years, Rich had never tried to spread them throughout the school. Jeremy's quest for popularity, and for her to date him, was the root cause of everything. There wasn't anyone to blame but him.
She pulled out her phone and texted both Jeremy and Michael, thanking them once again for helping her practice. She didn't feel particularly grateful towards Jeremy now, after sinking into her unhappy musings, but it's like they said: fake it 'til you make it. She would muscle past these leftover hurt feelings eventually. She just had to keep moving forward.
Jeremy texted back a minute later. No problem, any time! We both had fun helping! :)
Having nothing else to do except homework, which she didn't really feel like doing, she went to her room and flopped down onto her bed. She scrolled through her phone to distract herself; Jenna had posted a video of Rich cartwheeling in the hall on Snapchat - Michael was right, it was a pretty good cartwheel - and after a while, she started feeling a little better.
Then she got another text, this one from Michael. Sure, it was nice! We should hang out more, you're pretty cool
She smiled. Michael was nice, and cool too. They should hang out more often. Maybe she, him, and Jeremy could eat lunch together again tomorrow.