Chapter Text
It’s hard work being a rock star.
Not that she minds, of course. There’s a reason she chose this path. To stand up there on stage, to sing and scream until her voice is shot, pouring her heart out through music, and bringing smiles to the faces of all her fans…
Not that there’s too many of those just yet, but her band is still new! And, well, it’s not even really a band, per se, since it’s just her so far.
Either way! There’s nothing in the world she would trade it for. Nothing.
Even if sometimes, she just wants to curl up into a ball in the corner of her small and sparsely decorated apartment, hold her own hand, and pretend the warmth is someone else’s.
Not that she does that!
(Not too often, at least)
Being a burgeoning rock star is difficult, but it’s fulfilling. Rewarding. Fun. It’s everything she’d ever wanted and never realized she needed in her life. Her “rebellious phase” is one that all growing people should be allowed to explore themselves in, to go through and step forward into a new existence of “this is who I am”.
But it’s still difficult.
Despite standing up there on stage, despite having fans and bringing smiles to people, she’s still alone.
That’s probably the worst part.
Sometimes when you’re alone, it’s easy to think you’ll be that way forever. And despite everything… you don’t know how to feel about it.
So, you try your best and hope it works out!
-=-
Elphelt takes a deep breath, holds it, then quickly exhales. Lightly, she slaps her cheeks with both hands, twice, then meets her own gaze in the mirror. A determined look stares back at her, and she nods to herself.
Another day, another chance!
Stepping out of her bathroom, waving goodbye with one hand to the hyper-realistic bush dog plush on her couch (that her sister named Hamburger), and spinning her jingling keychain-laden key ring on one finger of her other, she strolls with a bounce in her step to the front door of her apartment.
Open the door, move through with a bit of a flourish and spin, and shut it behind her all in one smooth motion. That's the way it goes... and then, of course, she has to fiddle with her key ring for a couple seconds, because despite knowing exactly which key she needs they somehow all blend together and to be honest her keychains really don’t help-
Ah! There we go.
Elphelt locks it, then jiggles the door handle just to make sure it’s locked.
Then, she spins on her heel. Greeting her: cool morning air not yet dried by the noon sun, faint echoes down cobblestone streets. She takes it all in.
At the same time, her key ring is slid into the inside of her pink jacket. That’s definitely one of the best parts of this outfit compared to her old one. It has actual pockets.
Hopefully, it's better for finding and attracting her a partner, too. Apparently, the rocker look, collar included, is "sexy". Marriage worthy?
Yet to be answered.
But honestly, the pockets are a big enough improvement alone.
Hmm.
She closes her eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath.
The city in front of her isn’t quite bustling, but that’s only because of the early hour. This section of Illyria is yet another expanding frontier of advancement and innovation that typically accompanies urban growth. To that end, it becomes a great melting pot of ideas, culture, and above all, people.
The perfect place for a burgeoning rock star to make her home and mark.
The fact that it’s cheaper than most other places is also a significant factor, but at the same time, a significantly less romantic one.
Okay.
Breathe in, breathe out.
Feel the rhythm of daily city life imbue itself into your very being. Listen to the music of an ordinary day, the sun on her skin and the breeze drifting through the streets. The sound and touch of everything around in a way that feels…
Oh! That word, that one right there!
Something feels different about today, Elphelt thinks. A special something on the horizon. Hopefully. Definitely! Without a doubt or question.
Or maybe she’s imagining things. No one has ever accused her of being realistic.
No matter which it is, Elphelt steps confidently onto out the sidewalk near her apartment complex. With her head raised high, her hands proudly on her hips, and a wide lip gloss painted smile glimmering in the early morning sunlight, she's ready!
It’s time to take on the world! You better look out, world!
“AAAHHH!!! LOOK OOOUUUUTTT!!!!”
Huh? Elphelt turns.
WHAM!
The impact isn’t so much painful as it is breathtaking.
Literally. The wind is forced from her chest. She lands on her back, with an almost silent, “Oof!”
Elphelt stares at the blue-and-puffy-cloud-filled sky above.
Well… that IS different. She admits to herself. The next thing she notes is the presence of a warm body atop her own.
She looks down, only for her chin to bury itself in a mass of somewhat choppy blonde hair.
Elphelt blinks. In the space between, it’s almost like the blonde atop her teleports.
“I’m so sorry!” The blonde, seemingly not realizing she’s still straddling Elphelt’s hips, claps her hands together as if in prayer and bows her head. “Roger kept wanting to go faster and no one’s usually out this early and-”
Admittedly, Elphelt isn’t fully listening.
SHE’S SO CUUUUUUUTE!!!
Sitting up in a blur, Elphelt grabs the babbling blonde young woman ’s hands with her own.
“Please marry me!”
“-and I- eh?” The blonde blinks, glancing between her now-held hands and Elphelt’s smiling, blushing face. “Eh?!”
“Oh, it’ll be perfect! We can have a spring wedding, and of course we’ll have to coordinate our dresses to complement one another, and oh! I’m not sure how the bridesmaids will work, but my sisters and my niece and my brother definitely need to be involved…”
“W-wait.”
“... and I used to want kids, and maybe I still do, but with my new career I feel like it’d be difficult to prioritize them and no child deserves to grow up like that, but we could definitely have a dog, a bush dog preferably! What should we name them- oh, I guess we should get one first but that requires us getting married and moving in together and having returned from our honeymoon and- oh! Our honeymoon! We should start planning-”
“Wait!” The blonde woman pulls her hands back free, pressing them against her own cheeks. Her face is entirely crimson, accompanied by anime-esque swirls in her eyes and a slight sway to her shoulders. She doesn’t seem to quite realize her situation; otherwise, she wouldn’t still be straddling the random pastel punk woman she’d accidentally knocked over. “We- we can’t just- get married! We haven’t even- we haven’t even gone on any dates yet!!!”
“Oh. Okay!” Usually, people deny Elphelt outright. That this cute girl in her lap hasn’t done so yet is a good sign. A very good sign, indeed.
I knew today would be different!
“Let’s go on a date!”
“S- so fast!!”
And, in her flustered state, the blonde is unable to do anything other than agree.
-=-
“Hm… so that’s what happened, huh?” Sitting on a red embroidered, incredibly expensive looking couch, Dizzy sips elegantly from her teacup.
On a matching couch across from her, Bridget sits with her elbows propped up on her knees, resting her forehead against her clasped hands. Her own teacup is untouched on the silver-decorated glass coffee table between them.
Her blush still hasn’t died down.
It certainly doesn’t help that the woman she’d run into was incredibly attractive. A pastel punk rocker chick with a spiked collar and biker gloves? She’d wondered for more than a single moment if she’d knocked herself out and been dreaming.
Then, the angel started speaking. And her voice, well, it certainly matched the description.
Gah!
Everytime she thinks about earlier this morning, it blasts through her heart like a gunshot. How embarrassing is that? She’d been so caught up in the moment – and really, she’s trying to forget the fact that she’d leaned into the random woman’s touch – that the random woman, Elphelt, had completely blindsided her.
Seriously? Marriage? She can’t get married! Who would even want to-
…she was so beautiful though…
Bridget unclasps her hands, just so she can bury her face in her palms, pressing up as if that will force the heat away from her cheeks.
Elphelt, apparently, would want to marry her. Elphelt, who Bridget had somehow managed to talk down to a date instead. Completely by accident, because it was the first thing she’d thought of. After running the other woman over, because she was scootering on her yoyo way faster than was safe or, in fact, legal.
What a mess.
Outside the nearest window, open to the comfortable breeze of the early spring morning, a tree branch sways, and on it, a dove coos as its mate returns to the nest.
“You’re not going to stand her up, are you?” Dizzy suddenly asks, setting her teacup down on its saucer. Her eyes are uncharacteristically glinting, appraising.
Bridget lifts her head like a shot at the other’s tone, frantically waving her hands.
“I- I wasn’t planning on that at all! The date was my idea anyway, so I should at least go, right?”
Dizzy smiles, the look in her eye disappearing. “Oh, good. My… aunt? Though I'm older than her... well, she can be a bit much, but she truly means well. And it’s nice to hear she’s still doing alright. We were all very worried when she disappeared.”
She gestures for Bridget’s tea.
The other girl picks up her cup, equally as elegant as Dizzy. “Disappeared?”
“I’m sure she’ll tell you about it if you ask her.”
Bridget deadpans at her over the rim of her teacup. “That doesn’t help me at all.”
“Isn’t learning about one another one of the most enjoyable experiences of young love?”
“Young-” Bridget nearly chokes on the last sip of her tea. She quickly grabs a handkerchief from the table, wiping her mouth and glaring. “Don’t compare my situation to yours so easily!”
“Ah, I can see it now.” Dizzy’s eyes are closed; she’s not listening. “Two young women, both looking to reinvent themselves, run into each other by pure chance one early morning in the spring. As they lock eyes for the first time, it’s almost visible in the air: the spark! At first sight, they knew-”
Bridget sweatdropped, trying to hold onto her indignation in order to ignore the fresh wave of embarrassment that rises like a tsunami upon hearing Dizzy’s fantastical words.
Fantastical, as in, “fantasy”. Not “fantastic”.
Probably.
Bridget sets down her teacup and puts her head back in her hands, trying and failing to ignore the increasingly descriptive tall tale that Dizzy is weaving.
She almost wishes she could have had this conversation with Ky instead.
Almost.
…at least the tea is good.