Chapter Text
May 19, 1972
Backstage at the performing arts theater at Chandrila College, Ben Solo was finishing his second glass of champagne in celebration of the debut performance of his final undergraduate project, a play he titled "Not Enough Spring". The air was electric with excitement, and the din of the packed house at the afterparty was only improving the pleasure of the warm buzz he was working on.
After four years of intense daily classes, juggling multiple part-time jobs, long nights drinking black coffee hunched over his typewriter, and nothing short of complete and utter devotion to honing his craft and attaining his degree, Ben was beyond exhausted, but thrilled.
There was a talent agent who had been in the audience, and if Ben had any luck "Not Enough Spring" had a chance at going to Broadway. Broadway had been his ultimate dream long before he'd even started planning for college. There was no contingency plan, no Plan B. Though he second-guessed himself more than he'd like to admit, his heart and soul told him that that was where he belonged. Tonight was his vindication.
While Ben was laughing uproariously at a joke his friend Hux had just told, a stranger sat alone across the room among the empty seats, wistfully gazing up at him.
She was a tall and slim elderly woman, with long silver hair pulled into an old-fashioned updo covered by a white silk scarf, and a gorgeous floor-length black lace dress that matched the fashion of her hair. She had arrived early, watched the entirety of the performance, and now remained seated long after everyone had left to celebrate.
After one last glance down at her hands, she removed her scarf, calmly rose, and slowly but deliberately made her way towards him. As she approached the crowd every eye began to fall on her, and the boisterous talking soon died out to silence. Wordlessly everyone parted around her until at least she approached Ben, softly touching the back of his arm.
Ben quickly turned around to find an old woman merely inches from his face. He leaned back in surprise, but before he could open his mouth she gently took his hand and placed what felt like a round, metallic object into his palm, closing their fingers around it.
As their hazel eyes met, she passionately whispered "Come back to me!"
No sooner had the words left her lips did she turn back around. Confused and slightly tongue-tied from the alcohol, Ben could only stare in baffled silence as she drifted over to the exit. She wasn't halfway there before the crowd's curiosity bubbled over and the questions came fast. Who was she? What was she doing here?
"I never saw her before in my life," was all Ben could offer, opening his hand to reveal a beautiful gold pocket watch in pristine condition.
He lifted his eyes and scanned the room to catch sight of her one last time, but she was gone and the noise of the party had resumed, leaving him alone in his head to wonder what the heck had just happened.
Out of nervous habit Ben ran his fingers through his long black hair, then popped the watch open again and peered closer. This time he noticed the letters "RES" inscribed in cursive. To deepen the mystery, Ben didn't know anyone with those initials. He started to wonder if he'd ever see the woman again, but his reverie was abruptly cut short when Hux thrust yet another drink into his hand, slapping him on the back.
~~~~~~~
Rey smiled dreamily to herself, glassy tears shining in her eyes. Resting in the backseat of her black 1930 Cadillac while her chauffeur Cecil drove her home, Rey was unusually quiet, but her heart was full. The winding drive from the college was long, but the night was pleasantly warm, and the full moon above filled the cab with an ambient glow to ward off the somber darkness.
Rey had been waiting for this night a long time, and she had not been disappointed. He was just as passionate, just as alive as she had remembered. The sight of his beautiful, crooked smile, the sound of his deep, infectious laughter filled Rey with such pride, such longing, that the tears she'd been holding on to at last broke free. Of course he didn't recognize her. But it mattered little. She knew they would see each other again, somewhere in time.
Eventually the car slowed down and turned into the long, winding driveway that led up to the Grand Chandrila Hotel. There was an avenue of trees that lined the drive, and at the end it opened up to reveal the gorgeous old mansion that had been operating as a hotel for the last hundred years. It was a very large three-story building, with white wooden siding and tall columns in front of a well-lit porch that spanned the entirety of its front.
Within a few minutes Cecil had pulled up to a neat, cozy cottage that was nestled in the northeast corner of the hotel property. Rey had moved into it when her career started taking off, and for reasons unknown, she had never left.
Her housekeeper Rose, a short but sweet middle-aged woman with short black hair and warm brown eyes was waiting up for Rey as she came in, eager to know how her night had been.
"How was it? Did you enjoy the play?" Rose asked cheerfully, but Rey walked past her and opened the door to her private study.
Concerned, Rose inquired "Are you alright?" but it went unanswered as Rey gently closed the door behind her.
After turning on the light, Rey walked over to a small table that held her record player and lowered the needle. Still grasping the playbill, she fondly looked out the window at the gentle waves breaking in the moonlit bay before lowering herself into her favorite rocking chair. Rocking back and forth to the languid rhythm of the music, she held the booklet dearly to her chest and closed her eyes. For the first time in years, she felt at peace.