Chapter Text
This is going to be fun.
The interviews have gone well. The project has been greenlit and it seems that the idea of turning everything into a series instead of a movie is being well received, according to leaks, and made everyone forget about the problems with the other sequels made by the Mouse.
I've been working on other movies and have lent my voice to some animations, but I've been very little away from the franchise. I've made a few cameos and my character's merchandise is a top seller.
It seems that princesses will never go out of style, huh?
I certainly didn't expect them to come to me and say that they were looking to continue the story, that they were bringing back almost the entire cast and that they were giving us a hefty budget in… basically every aspect I can think of.
I didn't hesitate to say yes.
If people are going to typecast me for the rest of my career, at least let it be into one role that I enjoy.
The salary for everything is just a fun bonus.
Eugene is back. Obviously. I adore him, he's one of my favorite people and a great, great friend, but, of course, we'll continue the romance story of our characters for as many seasons as they allow us to.
I phrased it like a bad thing?
Well, since this isn't going to get out of here, I guess I can just say it: if you haven't noticed yet, he, well, he's gay. Like really, really, really gay.
The studio doesn't know yet or I guess they don't care as long as he's not out to the closet, publicly at least. I can't blame him, he had a hard time finding work before our first movie together and while it wasn't explicitly because of his sexual preferences, I guess he must feel like that would close off some opportunities for him.
Not that that paranoia stopped him from doing that Top Gun remake and enjoying the volleyball scenes a tad too much.
It's none of my business when he decides to come out. He'll do it on his own time, or not. I've been pansexual since before I got into this, but since most of my partners have been men, I haven't gotten any pushback when it comes to finding work. It also doesn't hurt to be blonde and Caucasian in an industry that loves that.
Oh, where was I?
Oh yeah, it'll be fun to work with him again.
The fact that the press won't stop speculating about us won't be fun though.
It comes with the territory, I guess.
I just hope our new addition to the main cast makes him feel comfortable. That's right, there won't just the two of us in the lead roles, but three.
Her name is Cassandra… something, I can't remember. They only dropped her name in the first meeting and from there we were told we'd meet her in person during the first script readings and rehearsals.
Her social media presence is pretty active, and she seems to lead an interesting life. One thing becomes more and more apparent when I scroll through a little bit of her content, and that is that she is openly and undeniably a lesbian.
Lots of parties, lots of events, countless different women in almost every photo, and it doesn't seem like some of them are interested in how faithful her Xena cosplay is.
I can't deny that she's good looking though.
Well, I arrived at the offices for our first reading. It's early and I've only seen a handful of the familiar cast, some new faces I can't wait to work with, and of course, across the room talking to other cast members is the person I wanted to meet.
Of course she was wearing a leather jacket, a white t-shirt underneath, and jeans with boots. When I read her filmography, was there any mention that she was in Grease? Because that outfit looked amazing on her, especially with her short black hair and the little makeup she was wearing.
I was planning on her finishing the conversation so I could approach her, but as soon as she noticed I had arrived she apologized to whoever she was talking to and approached me.
It was certainly a good first impression and we had a half hour to get to know each other a little better. We had to if we were going to work together so much.
It turns out it's her first time starring a project, but she's no stranger to the business. She's been a fight coordinator and stuntwoman on many productions for a few years.
The executives wanted a little more action in the plot and who better than someone with so much experience.
I guess my valet classes combined with the frying pan just aren't enough for them anymore…
She has some experience in theater and in independent online productions, highlighting those that involve a spandex suit fitted in the right places, a sword and a very well-choreographed fight.
I wouldn't be surprised if she's casted in the superhero projects they're planning for the upcoming years.
Eugene arrives, I introduce him and he soon joins the conversation as if he's known her for years. I like her already. I guess I shouldn't have worried about the chemistry between us.
The meeting is understandable: her character will be my character's lady-in-waiting, the plot will focus on my powers and their origins, the love story between Eugene and I will hit some bumps, there will be adventure, mystery, fights, and the occasional dance number and song to accompany it.
We’re left with homework with the scripts already in hand. The pilot will be recorded in a month, but I am assured that at this point it’s just a mere formality and that they will soon call us to begin recording the first season.
I plan an outing between the three of us to a bar and start talking about work tomorrow. The other two parties accept.
The night unravels wonderfully. Really, Cassandra is very different from her character’s bullet points, to start with she is very open, funny, cheerful, and lovely in more than one way.
We’re having a good time, but, as usual, around midnight Eugene excuses himself with us to go with someone he met at the bar while he went to get drinks for everyone.
I swear I don't understand how come there aren't any pictures or rumors of him in the tabloids.
How good are the Mouse's lawyers?
Well, at least this time he didn't leave me alone.
I tell Cassandra a little bit more about myself. About my background, personal life, what I did before and after the movie that brought us all together and she pays attention to everything.
How sweet.
Cassandra talks a little bit more about her career and despite my assumption from before she didn't appear in Grease, in fact, she has little… or should I say, no experience with musicals.
She confessed to me that she omitted that detail from her resume and focused more on the action scenes she would do, only telling the executives what they wanted to hear.
I told her that with her background as an action coordinator and with my help she would soon be able to do everything in her sleep.
We continued spending the night together drinking, playing games and doing whatever the bar allowed us until we got the last call. So, we were forced to leave. We left our keys to the vehicles we arrived in because there was no way we could drive in that condition, and we shared a taxi.
Cassandra's apartment was closer, so we got there first. It was two in the morning, and we were already big girls, but she insisted it was too late to cross half the city and invited me to spend the night on her couch.
Now, she assured me while laughing several times that despite how it sounded it wasn't what it seemed and that I shouldn't feel obligated to stay. I definitely didn't want to spend another hour in the cab, so I took her up on her offer.
The place was small, very simple and it brought back some memories of when I first started and the small roles I had to do to pay the bills.
And yes, more than one involved shampoo commercials.
It was furnished in a basic way and there weren't many decorations. Cassandra explained that it was temporary while they moved her stuff to where she would live.
I sat on the couch and she took it as me being ready to go sleep, so it surprised her when I asked her if she had anything to drink. I think she was going to get me a pillow or something.
Luckily, in one of her kitchen boxes she had a bottle of whiskey, although we had to use limited edition glasses from a space series whose name I can't remember and which she begged me to treat carefully.
Further conversations evade me. Even with my high alcohol tolerance I only remember that we slowly and carefully touched on more sensitive topics: when we came out, our experiences, our most recent partners, and so on.
One thing led to another… well, not really.
We were very drunk, at some point we tried to start a game of truth or dare, someone said dare – probably me – and before a solid thought or sentence could materialize, I was on top of her and started kissing her.
They were clumsy kisses fueled by lust and alcohol. Certainly not my best work, but she seemed to enjoy them. I know because her hands were all over me while her lips and tongue made up for my clumsiness. Almost like muscle memory.
What happened next, I don’t remember, I just hope it was sexy.
What I do remember was waking up in a bed under a blanket, but before I could put the events of the early morning back together my stomach had other plans. As soon as I opened my eyes I was forced to stand up and desperately search for the bathroom, realizing with a stumble that there was no bed frame, and the mattress was on the floor. I had only a few seconds before I did something very embarrassing, and I opened the first door on my right, stumbling into a closet. The commotion must have woken up my temporary roommate who clarified that what I was looking for was in the next door to my left.
What happened in there is obvious and you can imagine that it was nothing pretty, and less than worthy of a princess. I can only be thankful that my ponytail was not undone, and my white floral dress was missing, to avoid making a bigger mess. I tried to clean myself up as best I could in the sink, but it wasn't long before a knock was heard on the door. Cassandra wanted to know if I was okay, and I could only give her a lukewarm yes while praying that all the bad things inside my stomach were gone.
She told me she was glad to hear it but had to ask if I was done doing what I was doing since she really had to go in too. I hurried over and stole some of her mouthwash, making sure I didn't look any more disheveled, but also just a little bit because otherwise it would look unnatural.
As I opened the door, I gave her my best and cutest sleepy eyes, but she was more interested in coming in and probably repeating the same thing I did. Although she did say good morning and I managed to say it back.
Waiting for her to come out I wanted to see a little more of the bedroom, but what prompted me not to throw up in her bed made me momentarily forget about the throbbing pain in my head, so I laid back down and closed my eyes to avoid the sunlight.
Once I heard the door open and the water flowing away from here, I tried to start the conversation. Which, unfortunately, I won’t soon forget.
“Hey, babe. Did you sleep well?” I didn’t open my eyes and slurred my words, praying to fall asleep.
“Not really,” she replied. “My head is killing me and you’re not leaving me much room to collapse too.”
“Oh, sorry.” I said as I slowly and with effort moved to what I assumed was for this morning my end of the bed.
“Don’t worry.”
We were both now in bed, regretting having had so much to drink and last night’s decisions, or I hope not most of them.
“Are you too hangover to talk?” I asked.
“I think I’ve had more painful conversations in the mornings, how bad can this one be?”
“Great. Hey, about last night…”
“Yeah?”
“How was it?”
“Oh, the best one I’ve ever had.”
“Really?”
“At least that’s what I’d say if we had done it.”
“Was I that drunk?”
“You sound so romantic.” She quipped. “After we made out on the couch, I picked you up and brought you to bed to… continue.”
“Are you that strong or am I that petite?”
“That sounds a little self-centered, but both. Anyway, I took off most of my clothes and was going to help you, but you quickly collapsed and fell asleep. Frankly, it was a relief since I was exhausted. I got you out of your dress. I have no idea where your shoes are. And finally fell asleep too.”
“Oh, how chivalrous.” I laughed a little but regretted it as I felt my brain bouncing from the movement. That’s not normal…
“Tell me this won’t affect our working relationship.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Well, look at us. You’re beautiful and all-“
“Likewise.”
“But I wasn’t planning on our relationship being anything more than entirely professional.”
“No, no, no, no. Please don’t say that like it’s your fault. It was me who was… flirty.”
“Just flirty? I was drunk, but I still remember feeling your tongue on my throat.”
“Was it wrong? I thought you wanted to…”
“No, it’s not that. I just don’t want it to get awkward working together.”
“Come on, even if there was more than that cute kiss, and the pecks that followed. There’s no reason to ruin this beautiful friendship.”
“You’re the most famous person I’ve ever shared a bed with and I have no idea what your last name is.”
“Likewise.”
We laughed, but stopped to groan at the pain it caused us.
I checked the clock that was also on the floor and saw with horror that it was already past noon. I couldn’t help but curse about it.
“That sounded unbecoming.” Cassandra commented.
“You should read the chat with the other princesses.”
“Ugh… What are we going to do now?”
“Do you have any grape salt?”
“Everything edible was in that box.”
“It was just alcohol.”
“Exactly.”
“Ugh, okay. We’ll get dressed first, then drink our weight in water, then go somewhere that sells food, and if we don’t throw up, we can go see a movie later.”
I had already crossed the line in more ways than one, but this was the opportunity I gave Cassandra to make it clear that we could only see each other on set and maybe occasionally grab drinks with other crew members. Maybe we would appear on each other’s social media from time to time, promote the show together, and nothing more.
We exchanged glances and I could imagine the gears turning in his head, she was silent longer than usual, and then she broke it:
“Sounds like a plan. Just one more thing.”
“Huh-uh?”
“Promise me that when I move in to my place you will know how to flush the toilet.”
“Did I forget to flush it?”
“You forgot to flush it.”
I cursed again. Louder.