This was inspired by an assembly we watched. Later on, I'll write mroe about it. Enjoy, comments, check out my other story, Run Baby Run, Don't Ever Look Back.
CHAPTER 1
“Nick just give me one more chance.” Katherine pleaded with me, inching closer. Her wide, hazel eyes glowered up at me through her mess on dark curls. I felt my heart melt in my chest. It didn’t matter if she had hurt me so deeply; I was still in love with her. I whipped my head around, desperate to find someone to rescue me. The practical and wounded side of my heart was screaming no. The other half was in her palms already, wondering if it was going to be crushed or gently cradled.
“I never meant to hurt you.” She purred, leaning against my wiry torso. A strong hand jerked me backwards. Flashing green eyes briefly met my troubled ones before turning to the suddenly cowering girl in front of me.
“Take that load of crap and shove it up yours.” My best friend Olivia snapped icily, dragging me away. I grinned and shot her a grateful smile.
“Thanks for saving me.” I said genuinely. She grumbled and continued walking towards the limo waiting. She clambered in and waited for the driver to slam it shut behind me.
“Your such a pushover when it comes to that—“ She said such a derogatory term that Joe gasped and snickered from the corner of the limo.
“Joe! I told you, no tongue hockey in my limo!” She barked teasingly. The corners of his swollen lips drooped downwards as he inched away from his girlfriend. I watched in admiration as my best friend of five years battled Joe in a game of Battleship -she always kept in the limo. Sure, she was bossy, a know-it-all, and a show-off, but that’s what kept them such good friends. They were complete opposites and brought out the best in each other. She was bold, where Nick was shy. She was never uncomfortable with her voice and was sometimes a little too distant and cold with people. Nick was always warm and forgiving, eager to apologize and move on.
The limo crawled along the busy New York road. Olivia made a dramatic gesture and groaned. Nick grinned and sighed over-dramatically, imitating her. The best thing about having a famous Broadway actress as a best friend was that nothing ever seemed out of the ordinary. They met on the set of A Christmas Carol. She had been one of the main roles while he was a supporting role. She had constantly given him support at the age of seven and encouraged him to keep doing shows. They did several other shows together and they became inseparable; Olivia sticking up for him and Nick helping her through family issues she refused to share with anyone else.
“I’m walking the rest of the way. Who cares if I’m a little late?” Olivia declared, carelessly throwing open the door and dodging traffic.
“Olivia!” I exclaimed and leaped out after her. She was already cutting through the crowded sidewalk quickly. Many people recognized her and gawked, walking into telephone poles and angry pedestrians.
“Olivia! Ugh can you be anymore of a diva?” She laughed and shrugged, embarrassed.
“I can try.” She grinned, her electric green eyes flickering with excitement for tonight’s show. She inhaled deeply and shivered, a look of depression creeping onto her face.
“I’m going to miss New York City.” She linked arms with me and leaned against me. I was mildly surprised; she didn’t like to show emotions in public. Suddenly, she was dragging me behind her, her pace increasing rapidly. I let out a bewildered yelp and then laughed. She was trying to make me hurry so she could be in hair and make-up in time.
“You love Dallas.” I reminded her gently as we crossed the busy street and strutted along Broadway. She shrugged again and told me everywhere was boring compared to New York. We paused, flashed a smile at the security guard and were ushered in.
“Olivia, there you are!” Her mother and manager exclaimed, exasperated. Olivia stiffened noticeably, but allowed her mother to steer her into an elevator. She snatched Nick’s hand and tugged him into the elevator as well. They rode in an uncomfortable silence.
“You shouldn’t have run off like that Olivia. It’s dangerous.” Alison scolded her daughter absent mindedly, checking her emails via cell-phone.
“What am I supposed to do when I walk into the hotel room and see why mom screwing my vocal coach? Get a camera and take notes?” Olivia yelled suddenly, cowering into Nick’s strong arms. Alison’s eyes slowly rose from the phone, her cheeks blotchy from embarrassment.
“What did you just say to me?” She whispered her voice deadly quiet. The doors opened with a soft noise. I coughed and grabbed Olivia’s arm, leading her away from the elevator and into the small, white room. She collapsed into the stiff chair and sniffled away the onslaught of tears. I lay a hand on her bony shoulder, but she shrugged it off miserably.
Several hours later, I sat in the VIP section of the theatre, eager to see Legally Blonde for the hundredth time. The pink lights were flashing wildly and people were piling into their seats, dulling buzzing about past performances. A loud noise boomed overhead at 7:10.
“As you know, tonight is the last night the original cast will be performing together for a short period of time. We’re lucky to have obtained such amazing, raw talent from Olivia Larson.” The crowd burst into applause. The man plowed on, “We made a special clip for her, to celebrate her being the first Broadway actress to snag a lead role, under the age of sixteen. Give it up for Olivia!” The crowd stood on their feet as a burly man walked across stage, a blind-folded Olivia slung over his shoulder. She was half-way in costume, wearing a studded pink shirt and her own pair of ratty jeans. Her long, lean legs kicked out in disdain, having no clue what was going on. She was placed on a chair and her blind-fold was removed. She blinked and took a step back. She grinned and waved happily at the crowd. The man pushed her gently back onto the chair and handed her a microphone. With a nod, a screen came out of the ceiling a short clip showed.
Pictures of her making funny faces, goofing off with her friends, and her dancing like a wild-child filled the room. Short pieces of her web-show were shown and videos of rehearsals. Finally, it showed a short video of her squeezing her eyes shut while her make-up artist carefully glued fake eyelashes to her eyelids.
“Nick, the curler’s burning me!” She had gasped, thrashing around in pain. I watched myself leap to the other side of her neck and pull the hanging curler away from her neck. She sighed in relief and smiled up at me.
“Thanks bestie.” She said with a lovey smile, a rare moment. She enveloped me in a hug and kissed my cheek.
“Knock them dead.” I heard myself say clearly. She giggled, winked and replied,
“Don’t I always?” The screen turned blank and the crowd erupted. Through all the spotlights and flashing cameras, I saw her hurriedly wipe away a tear.
“Thanks you guys. I love you all, and enjoy the show!” She said happily, blowing the erupting crowd a kiss before waltzing off-stage. I smiled to myself, lucky to be best friends with such an extraordinary person.
