Work Text:
In the dimly lit dressing room at the back of the Emmanuel theater, Antigone clutched the side of the cluttered vanity table as she leaned against it. Her heart pounded, trying to understand what the ringmistress had just confessed to her. Not only that she had read the play over and over again until she saw it through her eyes, not only that she had called her unique, that she had called her a titan; not only that she had said her eyes were intelligent and lonely and full of so much more. Now her face was dangerously close to Marlene’s as six words rattled through her body and buried themselves in her heart.
“You’re...in love with me?”
“No, not in love. In love. ” She emphasized. “ I am in love with you. You see, there’s a difference.”
Antigone began to stammer, the cogs in her head reeled. The ringmistress pressed her finger to her lips. “No, no, don’t speak.” She whispered. “Despite what I have said you must not accept me-”
“W-well, why can’t I?” She asked, pushing Marlene’s hand away from her mouth. The table shook as she shifted her body, make up canisters clattered against the creaky wooden floor.
The ringmistress faltered, making up a borderline absurd excuse about rejecting her for the sake of their art. Antigone clawed the table and asked her, “Do you r-really feel this way about me?”
Marlene took a deep breath, a small knowing smile on her lips. She took Antigone’s hands, looking deeply into her eyes she said “Yes, I truly am in love with you." In a quieter tone she added: "I can show you any way you'd like."
Firmly believing that the ringmistress was somehow only trying to get a rise out of her, Antigone thought of the most preposterous declaration she was certain Marlene would not submit to. She crossed her arms and stammered that perhaps the ringmistress should beg for her, so in that way she would know she was serious. Much to her shock and mild dismay, Marlene fell to her knees before her and thunderously proclaimed her love to her. The sight of the tyranical ringmistress on her knees sent an unfamiliar pang of pleasure within her, but she could not address it.
The door swung open.
“What the hell is going on here?” Georgie demanded, her eyes darting between the ringmistress and her best friend.
“Georgie, it’s not what you think.” Antigone clasped her hands together, her eyes pleading with her to believe her.
“It is exactly what you think,” Marlene said, her fingers toying with the hem of Antigone’s dress, “And more.”
Antigone jerked her knee, almost kicking her. “That’s not helping.” She hissed.
The corner of Georgie’s nose twitched. She muttered to herself, not understanding how this could have happened. She heard Antigone’s voice but did not register what was said, only snapping at her that she had ten minutes before curtain and stormed off.
Antigone clasped a hand over her mouth, her breath grew ragged, mind racing with thoughts all crashing into each other. She had upset her best friend, and now her own feelings were bubbling up to the surface, crawling out of her heart and wrapping around her neck, choking her. The ticking of the clock on the wall grew louder and she squeezed her eyes shut, wanting desperately to disappear.
She looked down at the ringmistress who in turn was looking up at her with concern in her eyes. Marlene then sneered, dismissing the red haired girl. Without warning, Antigone grabbed her by the lapels and pulled her up.
“Listen to me very carefully,” She said, “not a single word about this to anyone.”
Marlene nodded, her own face scarlet from the proximity she had with her. “I’ll see you after the show.” Antigone dropped her and left the dressing room, grumbling to herself as she hid backstage.
The show had to go on, and as it did, Marlene leaned against the wall near the exit, closely watching Antigone improvise from the stage. The words she pronounced so genuinely and with such earnesty brought the ringmistress to place a hand to her chest. There was a look in her eye, a shift in her stance, a relaxation of her shoulders as she finally said what she needed to, but there was something more. Behind Antigone’s eyes there was an epiphany, one that for now needed to be left unsaid.
As Antigone desperately shouted “blancmange!” no response was given until finally the ringmistress elbowed the fire alarm, picking a piece of glass out of her jacket as she swiftly left the theater before the sprinklers hit her.
Outside the theater she leaned against a nearby tree and waited for her creepy girl. She shot daggers at Chapman when he tried to approach her, but he thought better of it. His nod led Antigone to finally approach the ringmistress.
“You said you’d see me after the show.”
“And here I am,” Marlene’s smile quickly disappeared. “I am sorry about the sprinklers.”
“Oh, that was you?”
“What you were saying out there,” Marlene gestured vaguely in a boisterous manner, “You are never going to top that for an ending, so I smashed the alarm.”
Antigone rubbed her arm, still sniffling. “No need to apologize, you know, I don’t quite know what happened,” She said quietly, “On stage, I mean…”
“Really? Well…” Marlene said, “Perhaps I should give you time to figure things out.”
“What do you mean?”
Marlene placed her hands behind her back, and took a step forward. “I think I understand what happened on that stage,” She said, catching Antigone’s gaze. “But I also think you need time to figure it out for yourself.”
Antigone opened her mouth to say something, but words died at her lips. She stayed quiet, Marlene took another step forward and placed her hands on Antigone’s arms, gently caressing them.
“Perhaps we’ll work again some day.” She said, winking at her. “‘Til' next time creepy girl!” she exclaimed, taking a step back and disappearing in a cloud of smoke.
Antigone coughed, clearing the smoke with waves of her hand. Turning around to confront Georgie, she kept Marlene’s words in the chambers of her cobwebbed heart, hoping her words would ring true. She hoped that one day she too would be capable of loving her as the ringmistress seemed to.