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Eight shows a week was far rougher than Felicity Smoak had ever imagined it would be.
Years of training and performing could not have prepared her for what her body and her mind would go through when she got her first Broadway role. She’d spent ages dreaming of the chance to even make a Broadway ensemble, but all her prayers had been answered when she landed not just any role, but a featured one in a show that she’d loved for years.
Today, two agonizing but exhilarating shows stood between her and the comfort of her apartment and a cheap bottle of wine. She’d gotten through the matinee flawlessly, made it look completely effortless, but the truth was it was so far from effortless and she had not had nearly enough coffee that morning. She was thankful for the break between shows, for that little bit of time where she could leave the theatre and clear her head, and of course hit the corner Starbucks up for the largest cup of coffee she could convince them to give her. She didn’t care that it was the middle of the summer; she walked slowly back down the street towards the theatre, clutching the cup full of scalding liquid in her hands like it was lifeblood. She savored every single sip she took. It burned going down, and she would pay for it later when her vocal cords yelled at her, but she didn’t care. If there was anything better than sex to her, it was this cup of coffee and this moment right here.
Felicity was startled from her thoughts as the coffee dropped from her hands and exploded all over the ground. Her body started to fall back from the impact with...
“Hey, I got you,” the voice said calmly as she snapped out of her own head. Two hands steadied her as she looked up, blinking slowly a few times. “You okay?” the man asked. His head tilted slightly, expression torn between concern and amusement.
“Shit,” she said, jumping back a bit once she had her wits about her. The coffee was spilled everywhere, her cheeks were blushed beet red and a nervousness she couldn’t explain was coursing through her.
“If it’s about the coffee, I’m happy to buy you a new one. I really should have been paying better attention to where I was going, I’m sorry,” he said.
She looked at him curiously, the familiarity working its way from the back of her mind to the forefront, her eyes getting even wider as she realized who she had just run into, literally.
“No, no, it’s fine, I have to go. I’m going to be late back to the theatre, although now I haven’t had nearly enough caffeine to get through the next show and I’m pretty sure that I can’t afford to fall asleep during the intermission so yeah, maybe I should go back and get another cup and you don’t actually care and I’m going to shut up now," she said, pressing her lips together into a firm line and closing her eyes.
He couldn’t help but chuckle. This girl was adorable and he was intrigued. He didn’t recognize her, but she was clearly a performer.
“Okay, so I’m going to buy you another cup of coffee, c’mon,” he said, motioning down the street. “I’m Oliver…” he started to say before she cut him off.
“Oh, I know who you are,” she chuckled, trying to relax a bit for the first time since she saw the coffee plummet to the ground in slow motion. “You’re Oliver Queen! I’ve seen you in every show you’ve done on Broadway. In fact I’ve totally stagedoored them all too and you are seriously incredible, and now I’m really reducing my chances of that coffee by sounding like a crazy stalker but I’m *so* not a crazy stalker, I promise. 3…2…1," she counted down, squeezing her eyes shut before opening them again. She took Oliver's lead and started walking slowly back towards the Starbucks. “I’m Felicity. Felicity Smoak,” she added after a minute. Their gazes caught and she looked away quickly, her cheeks heating up again.
“Well it’s nice to officially meet you, Felicity,” he said, laughing a bit. His expression was clear amusement now.
They walked the rest of the way down the block in a comfortable silence, Oliver holding the door for her as they walked in. Felicity was so thankful there was no line as she walked up and gave the barista a huge smile.
“Back so soon, Felicity?” The girl behind the counter giggled.
“I’m afraid that’s my fault,” Oliver said, stepping up himself. “I’ll have a grande dark roast, no room please,” he smiled. “And whatever she’s having,” he added.
“I’ll have a venti white mocha with 2 extra shots and 3 pumps of raspberry, please,” Felicity said, stepping back as Oliver got out his wallet. She didn't even try to argue because she didn’t want to make a babbling fool of herself yet again.
Oliver walked over to the end of the counter and picked up both their drinks, motioning to a table.
“I only have a few minutes, but sure," she said. She took her drink from him, walked over to the table and sat down. “Thank you for this,” she smiled earnestly. “I know that it was me,” she said, emphasizing the word me, “that wasn’t paying attention to where I was walking, so this - this is really nice,” she finished. Felicity looked up from the cup she was once again clutching in both hands.
“Happy to help." He smiled, waving his hand like it was nothing. “You mentioned the next show and intermission, are you a performer?” he asked. He was surprised he didn’t recognize her.
“Oh…yeah. Yes. ” She blushed and nodded. Of course, why would she ever have thought Oliver Queen would know who she was? “I just got my first role. I’m performing in Into the Woods. It's pretty much a dream for me. I never actually thought it would happen, but I guess a lot of performers go through that feeling, don’t they?” She took a sip of the hot coffee to stop herself from nervously chattering on.
“I don’t know, I guess I subscribe to the ‘if you want it, you can make it happen’ theory,” he smiled. “So Into the Woods is your first Broadway show? Sondheim is tough stuff, you must be good,” he added. He felt relaxed with her and he wasn't sure why.
“Sondheim is tough, but so so worth it,” she smiled. “I’ve dreamt of playing Cinderella ever since I heard the soundtrack for the first time. And I remember seeing Laura Benanti in the 02 revival and she was incredible,” she giggled as she set the cup down, feeling more comfortable.
Oliver choked a bit on his coffee. This girl was starring in one of the biggest revivals of the year; he didn't how he'd had no idea who she was until now.
“Shit,” she said again, looking at her phone for the time. “I really need to get back and rest a bit, and warm up and makeup and...everything,” she said, motioning, knowing he understood.
“Of course,” he smiled, standing as she did the same. "Well, Felicity Smoak, I hope to get a night off soon to come see your show,” he said as he followed her outside, walking with her towards her theatre.
“Oh, you don’t have to do that!" She laughed. “I mean, thank you for the coffee, I appreciate it, but I’m sure that you have things to do that are much more important than skipping your own show to see mine,” she said as they stopped at the stage door. Oliver leaned against the wall, shaking his head yet again at her.
“Break a leg, Felicity,” he grinned. He stayed put until she walked inside.
She couldn’t understand what had gotten into her, but that night’s performance was the best performance she’d had yet. She felt so comfortable, so confident, so sure of what she was doing. Her overwhelming love for the stage filled her heart that night along with something else she couldn’t place, but it was amazing. As she wiped her makeup off in her dressing room, put on her street clothes and grabbed her bag to go greet the fans and sign some autographs, she couldn’t help but laugh a bit at the confession she’d made to Oliver earlier that day. She stepped outside with her brightest smile and began taking photos and signing playbills. She was so busy with the fans she didn't notice the blonde man near the end of the line.
“You were wonderful,” Felicity heard. Her head snapped up, breath catching in her throat. Standing in the same place she’d left him this afternoon was Oliver, leaning against the wall, a bouquet of lilies in his grasp. He handed her the flowers, entranced by the color of her cheeks as the blush snuck up them. “I told you, a night off to see your show,” he said sincerely.
“Oliver,” Felicity said, her voice soft and completely shocked. The feeling in her heart was creeping up again. He held out his playbill, grinning brightly.
“Can I have your autograph?”