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February 12th, 1982
Heart-shaped balloons tied to chairs bobbed against the ceiling of Showbiz’s showroom. Streamers were hastily stapled on the sides of the stage and from the ceiling. A jar of glitter that someone - probably Dook - dropped on the floor glistened. The band’s latest setlist contained songs like Can’t Help Falling in Love, You Make Loving Fun, and I Wanna Hold Your Hand . Love was indeed in the air, all but for poor little Mitzi. She sat at one of the booths with her chin in her arms and sighed dramatically. Even her annoyingly sparkly pink letterman seemed gloomy. She looked through the cutouts in the showroom wall, her eyes locking on a wolf.
Darius.
Rolfe’s cousin, the same age as Mitzi, had arrived in town just two days ago. He carried himself like a wannabe Danny Zuko. He wore sunglasses inside. At night. But Mitzi was absolutely smitten. She stared at him yearningly as he flipped through a well-worn paperback, leaning against a Pac-Man machine. She decided that if she was gonna win his heart, she’d need to put on an act.
Tough.
Mysterious.
Anyone with emotional maturity developed beyond the age of 14 wouldn’t be putting this much thought into winning a guy they just met over, but alas, Mitzi was just that. A 14 year old girl. Who may just be a little too romantically obsessed. But could you blame her? Showbiz’ Valentines party was already here, and she had no date.
Mitzi wandered off into the bathroom, pushing streamers and balloons out of her way. The dirty mirror above the sink wasn’t the best for emotional pep talks, but hey, it’s the best she could do right now.
“Okay,” Mitzi said to herself, striking a pose and then immediately cringing. “I’m confident. I’ve got edge. I don’t care about rom-coms. I don’t cry at the end of ASPCA commercials.” She stared at herself for a few more moments and then took off her jacket, then grimaced at the familiar cheer uniform. Gosh. She felt like a Barbie. And not in a cute way. She quickly put the jacket back on.
Outside the door, the showroom had gotten busy. Love songs boomed through the speakers, the snack bar was passing out chocolate-dipped everything, and Darius was still - still - looking like he’d just walked off the set of a fashion magazine, playing a claw machine.
Mitzi took a deep breath, slid her sunglasses (stolen from Beach Bear) on, and strutted back into the chaos.
“Yo,” she said, leaning against the claw machine. “Big fan of…uh, grabbing stuff?”
Darius looked up, raising an eyebrow. “What?”
Mitzi coughed, “You know. Claw machines. Real...grabby.” The silence was loud. Darius gave a polite nod and turned back to the machine. Okay, not great…but not a disaster either? Trying again, Mitzi crossed her arms and shifted her weight. “I’m not really super into these parties or anything. Just here ‘cause, you know, I’m the singer in the band...”
Darius didn’t look over. “Yeah, cool.”
Mitzi’s confidence shrank by two feet. She pushed on anyway, “Not into Valentine’s Day, huh?”
He shrugged, “Overhyped.”
“Totally,” Mitzi agreed, even though she was wearing a sparkly pink jacket with heart appliques… As the conversation dryly continued for just a couple minutes, Mitzi slowly backed off, pretending she had somewhere more important to be. Retreating to the soda fountain, she slumped behind it and groaned into her paws. “This is going so bad. ” She peeked around the corner. Darius was now talking to Beach Bear about something - probably existential philosophy, or the latest celebrity scandal, or…whatever cool people discussed.
“I can’t do this alone,” Mitzi sighed. She glanced around, spotting Rolfe dancing with Dook, a slice of pizza in hand, and frowned thoughtfully.
Maybe it was time to call in backup.
Rolfe wouldn’t be the first person she’d go to for help, in fact, usually he’d be the last, but Darius was Rolfe’s cousin after all. He’d know him better than anyone else. She took a deep breath, straightened her jacket, and marched over to him, cutting through the crowd. As she reached him, she tugged on his sleeve, causing him to spin dramatically and nearly drop his pizza.
“Woah!” Rolfe exclaimed, eyes wide as he nearly choked on his bite. “What’s up?”
Mitzi didn’t have time for small talk. “I need help.” Rolfe blinked, chewing his pizza slowly, and nodded.
“Help? You want my help? Well isn’t this unexpected! What’s going on? Can’t win one of those oversized stuffed animals?” He grinned, clearly not picking up on the seriousness of her request. Mitzi shook her head.
“No! I just, I need to get Darius to notice me. Like, actually notice me. I’ve tried and I’m failing miserably.”
Rolfe raised an eyebrow. “Darius? My little cousin Darius? The guy with the sunglasses even when it’s not sunny?” Rolfe laughed.
“Yes!” Mitzi exclaimed. “Him! He’s impossible. He’s like a walking puzzle. I tried being cool. I tried being aloof. I even tried quoting... I don’t know, something from a noir film! It’s all gone so wrong, it’s like he’s…above a heart, I don’t know,” She sighed dramatically, hoping Rolfe would understand the urgency.
Rolfe paused for a moment, taking another bite of his pizza, seemingly deep in thought. “You’re really going all out, huh? Well, you’re on your own, little one. Besides, I saw you talking to him over by the claw machine. It seemed to go well.”
“Well?!” Mitzi’s ears flattened, “I just asked him if he likes grabbing things. I’m about two awkward exchanges from a restraining order.”
Rolfe grinned. “Sounds like you're doing great.”
“I’m not! I’m- wait, you’re not taking me seriously. Help. I need you to be my wingman,” She pointed dramatically. “You know, like in the movies. You talk to him while I swoop in and - well, I don’t know what happens after that. But you have to help.”
He looked her over thoughtfully. "I don’t know, Mitzi. You’ve got that ‘mysterious bad girl’ vibe going for you,” He said teasingly.
“Stop,” Mitzi interrupted, hands on her hips. “He’s your cousin. You’d know him better than anyone. Please.”
Rolfe sighed and patted her on the back. “Alright, alright. I'll do it. But only because you said ‘please.’ Let’s get that straight.” Before Mitzi could even give him a proper “thank you,” Rolfe was already strutting over to Darius, offering a casual wave and a sly grin. He leaned in, talking to Darius with his flamboyant confidence. Darius looked mildly interested, nodding every so often.
Mitzi’s heart pounded as she prepared to approach. This was it. She took a deep breath, adjusted her sunglasses and marched over. She was ready to own this.
“Hey, Rolfe! Oh, hey Darius,” Mitzi said with a smirk, trying to sound casual.
Darius looked up from Rolfe, his expression unreadable. “Oh, hey.”
Mitzi felt the awkwardness creeping in, but she pushed through. "So, uh, I was just gonna tell Rolfe, this whole thing is kinda lame… Valentine’s Day. You know? Like, I’m not all about, like, hearts and-"
“You’re not into…hearts?” Darius interrupted, his tone flat. He raised an eyebrow, clearly confused.
“Right! Exactly! Not into hearts at all,” Mitzi said, flailing her arms about. “Like, who needs that stuff? I’m, like, above it. I don’t like all that gushy stuff. You know, like those, uh, cheesy rom-coms everyone loves? I don’t cry at those. Nope. Not me. Totally not my thing.”
She smiled a little too widely, hoping she sounded cool. But Darius just blinked at her, not quite catching the drift.
“So, you don’t like Valentine’s Day?” he asked, clearly trying to piece together her very disjointed explanation. He looked at her clearly Valentine’s inspired jacket and pink streamers in her hair, giving a puzzled expression.
“Exactly! No romantic stuff. I’m all about, like, adventure and… and, uh…” She scrambled for something to continue with. She looked to Rolfe for guidance. He mouthed the words ‘act mysterious’. Mitzi winced. “You know. Like, uh, mystery novels? But not romance novels. Definitely not those. More like… spy novels. Super edgy stuff. With lots of explosions.” Darius blinked. “And, sometimes, I just disappear for a while. You know. To think. In alleyways. With my cigarettes. And secrets. I’m a mystery,” she added, dramatically pulling her jacket collar up.
There was a long, uncomfortable pause. Darius glanced over at Rolfe, who was now slowly walking away, watching the mortifying conversation unfold with amusement.
Mitzi tried again, desperate. “But um, yeah, I think the whole, you know, love thing is kind of overrated. I mean, who needs all those fancy declarations? Not me. ”
Darius blinked at her for a moment. “Right. I mean, to each their own.”
Mitzi’s face burned. She was failing spectacularly . Darius shifted uncomfortably. “I’m just gonna grab another drink,” he said, his tone polite but clearly eager to escape the increasingly awkward conversation.
Mitzi’s heart sank. “Oh, okay! Sure! Yeah, I’m just, uh, here…chillin’,” She said, leaning against the table.
As Darius walked away, she groaned loudly, banging her forehead against the wall.
“You’re doing great,” Rolfe called out from across the room, waving enthusiastically.
Mitzi glared daggers at him. “I hate you.”
But she couldn’t stay mad for too long. She was the one acting stupid. She desperately wished she could disappear into thin air. She sat slumped in the booth, surrounded by half-eaten heart-shaped cookies, crumpled napkins, and a single deflated balloon drooping off the edge of the table like it, too, had given up. Ironic. She stared at her reflection in the glossy table. “You tried to trash talk love, ” she muttered, “At a Valentine’s Day party.”
The horror washed over her in slow, agonizing waves. Every word she said played on repeat in her head. ‘No hearts.’ ‘Super edgy stuff.’ ‘Explosions.’ Where did explosions even come into the picture?
“Mitzi,” Rolfe said gently, sliding into the booth across from her with a fresh slice of pizza. “You good?”
She looked up at him with dead eyes. “I’m a total loser. I ruin everything.”
Rolfe took a bite of his pizza. “Eh. Not everything. The pizza’s still pretty good.”
“I might as well wear huge hat on my head that says ‘Warning: Social Reject.’” Rolfe chuckled, but when she dropped her head onto the table with a sad thump, he put down his slice and got serious.
“Okay, real talk,” Rolfe said, leaning forward. “Yeah, you crashed. Big time. Like, I’ve seen Dook handle social interaction better.” Mitzi groaned louder. “But,” he continued, “You weren’t being you. That’s the whole problem. You’re trying to be some cool, mysterious rocker chick. I mean, let’s be real. You’re wearing a sparkly pink jacket.”
Mitzi rolled her head sideways on the table to look at him. “I thought that was what Darius liked. He’s so... smooth. He talks in short, suave sentences and wears sunglasses indoors. ”
“Mitzi, that’s just an act,” Rolfe said. “I’ve known him since he was a pup. He used to be a total bookworm up until last summer. And yeah, I get it, his demeanor is super cool.” Mitzi perked up as Rolfe continued, “But trying to copy someone else never works. You just gotta show him the real Mitzi. Y’know, the one who cries over fictional couples and has that ridiculous sticker collection and organizes her records by most emotional trauma caused.”
Mitzi waited a moment before saying anything, “Wow, I never knew Rolfe DeWolfe gave valuable advice.”
“I mean, I’m pretty great at everything,” Rolfe said. Mitzi rolled her eyes.
“So…I should talk to him about the things I actually like?”
Rolfe grinned. “Exactly. That’s the good stuff. You just gotta show him that side of you.”
She sighed, finally lifting her head off the table. She rested her chin in her palm. “And if he still doesn’t like me?”
Rolfe shrugged. “Then he’s a fool and doesn’t deserve someone as awesome as you anyway. Heck, you’re a rockstar! ”
Mitzi gave him a grateful smile. “Thanks, Rolfe. You’re not the worst.”
“High praise,” he said, “So, you gonna try again?” Mitzi looked across the showroom. Darius was standing near the jukebox now, flipping through the music options, completely unaware of the emotional train wreck she’d just lived through.
“Yeah… Maybe not right now,” she said honestly. “But soon. And this time I’ll be real. Even if it’s messy.”
Rolfe nodded approvingly. “That’s the spirit. I’m gonna go talk to Dook, alright? Let me know how things go!” Rolfe said as he exited the booth and waved. Mitzi gave him a warm smile. The party was winding down. Heart-shaped confetti clung to shirts and fur. The mood had mellowed out. Mitzi got up and leaned against the soda fountain, sipping something vaguely fruit-flavored, trying to play it cool. Not mysterious-cool. Just… chill. She’d taken off the tacky shades. That was step one. Nearby, Darius was sitting on the edge of the stage, tapping out a rhythm on his knees, looking… honestly kind of tired. A little bored. Definitely less cool now than he had earlier. His sunglasses were now on his head. Maybe it was what Rolfe told her, but he looked more approachable. Mitzi hesitated, then straightened her jacket for the millionth time, took a deep breath, and walked over. No plan. No lines. Just Mitzi.
“Hey,” she started, “Mind if I sit?”
Darius looked up, surprised but not displeased. “Yeah, sure.”
She plopped down next to him. Silence stretched out for a few seconds. But not the uncomfortable kind. “So,” she started, “Do you always lean on arcade machines looking like you’re in a moody music video, or was that just for tonight?” Darius laughed.
“Guilty. I was trying to look interesting while I waited for the soda line to clear.”
“Bold strategy,” Mitzi smirked. Another pause. She could feel her nerves racking, but she ignored it. She didn’t need to say something clever. She just needed to say something .
“Sorry if I was weird earlier,” she said, quietly. “I got a little caught up in trying to be…cool, I don’t know.”
Darius gave her a sideways glance. “Yeah, I figured something was up. You don’t seem like the ‘romance is dumb, blow everything up’ type.”
Her ears twitched. “I’m really not.”
“I mean, it was kind of funny,” he admitted, smirking, “In an awkward movie scene kinda way, y’know?”
“Oh gosh,” Mitzi groaned. “That’s worse than being forgettable.”
He chuckled again. “Nah.”
They sat quietly for a moment more, An Old Fashioned Love Song blaring through the speakers. That was one of the songs on the setlist. Mitzi noted the way Darius tapped out the beat on his knees. He looked relaxed now, not like the too-cool guy she’d been so intimidated by. More like someone she could talk to.
“Hey, what was that book you were reading earlier?” She asked, tilting her head. Darius suddenly became kind of flustered.
“Wicked Loving Lies,” He stated with a shy smile. Mitzi blinked. Then a smile spread across her face.
“You’re kidding. You like that kinda stuff?” She said enthusiastically.
“Absolutely. I live for it. Forbidden love, dramatic misunderstandings…the whole shabang. I guess I don’t really give off those vibes but I’m a sucker for romance novels.”
“But that thing you said about Valentine’s Day being overhyped–?”
Darius shrugged. “I guess I’m just bitter I don’t have a date,” He said, laughing.
Mitzi let out a breath she didn’t realize she was holding. All that time spent pretending and humiliating herself, when all she had to do was ask, “Hey, what book are you reading?” And the answer was something she already loved. And so the two sat, talking about their favorite books and anything else under the sun.
“Mitzi, we’re on in 5,” Fatz said, interrupting her and Darius’ conversation.
Mitzi looked at Darius with disappointment. “Gotta go, y’know, get ready for the show,” She said, hopping off the edge of the stage. Darius smiled and got up as well.
“Cool, I’ll stick around and watch. Break a leg!” He said with a wave. Mitzi smiled as she walked backstage. She spotted Rolfe and gave him a huge hug.
“I take it things went well with Darius?” Rolfe said, laughing.
“Yes. Thank you, Rolfe.”
“What can I say? Rolfe DeWolfe is not just an acclaimed comedian, but also a matchmaker!” He exclaimed. Mitzi laughed and playfully punched Rolfe in the shoulder.
And as Mitzi was singing Fleetwood Mac’s
You Make Loving Fun
, her eyes locked with Darius’. And she felt pretty damn cool.