In the offices of cats1991, therapist to forgotten and underappreciated characters, sat a dismal looking grey and brown tom. "Hello George, how have you been since last we met?" 91 asked from her very important red leather chair. The cat shrugged. "I've been better," he said. "Just hanging around the Yard really." George confessed. "Well, is there anything specific that you would like to talk about today?" the therapist asked crossing one leg over the other. "It's just, I feel so, so-" "Forgotten?" 91 interjected. George sighed before saying, "It's not even that, I mean people remember me, they just don't remember me!"
91 put her notebook and pen away taking a sip of earl grey, with just a touch of sugar. "It's the Admetus thing again isn't it?" she asked evenly. "Yes!" the cat said throwing his arms out in exasperation. "My, my name is George, just George! It's neither extravagant nor memorable, I get it, but it's my name!" the tom lamented throwing himself back on the couch. "How does this make you feel?" 91 asked sounding very cliche as she pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose. "Well, I don't really know, I mean I have it better than Victor, but he doesn't seem to mind the anonymity, no one knows who he is." George said weakly. 91 bit her lower lip, she wanted to comfort George and let him know he wasn't alone, and that Victor did not actually enjoy being an unknown, but she just couldn't break patient confidentiality, not even with fictional characters.
"I think I could deal with the anonymity too, but I don't have that luxury, just slapped with a name that isn't mine!" George admitted running a hand through his skunk striped hair. "Plato's pretty cool about it though, he hardly ever goes by Admetus anymore. I mean, he did in London, but when our story got big and made it to Broadway he changed it, you know like Quaxo and Bill Baily did." 91 nodded resuming to pen down what the tom was saying with her purple feathery pen, perhaps not the best choice of writing utensils given most of her clients are cats. "Do you have a support group George?" 91 asked after a moment. "No," the tom said, wasn't it bad enough that he was going to therapy?
"Well I run a small group, we meet Wednesdays at four," the woman said passing him a pink flyer. George looked it over, it read 'Never Alone Support. Here for you when no one else remembers. Wednesdays at 4:00pm' George's whiskers twitched, "Yeah, I'll uh keep this in mind." he said standing to leave. "Thank you Dr. cats1991." he said shaking the woman's hand.
Outside the office George passed several cats in the waiting room, Exotica, Bustifer Jones, and throngs of OCs. He felt sorry for the OCs, some were barely held together half thoughts, while others were fully fleshed out vibrant characters. Regardless most of them were underappreciated, nearly all of them despised for having been born. He signed wondering how many of them would be at the group. It was as he was leaving however that he ran into, Victor, the poor tom. The two exchanged sheepish hellos before George ducked out.
/
Despite the fact that George played a minor role in the London production of Cats for nearly the entire 21 year run the actor who played George was never credited for his role for him in the film, but he was for his role as the Rumpus Cat leading fans to guess the name of the unknown chorus cat, which is not Ademtus. Victor is a character who was in the London production, but never made it to either Broadway or the film production.
The two along with hundreds of OCs are feeling unloved and unwanted, show them some love and let them know they're not forgotten or utterly disdained. So do them a favor and go to your local fanfiction site (oh, hey look you're on one already!) and write them a nice little story. Remember OCs of the world, Never Alone! XD