Disclaimer: The closest I'll get to owning Shakespeare is the complete works collection in my bookshelf. And Hey Arnold, well, I think I've established I will never own it – sad, but that's life for you. And I know that my stories are usually connected, but try to leave this one alone. Hope it's up to standards; but really, I'm not sure if you can understand or follow it. Sorry if you can't. Yes, I played with some of the lines from the play to fit my own desires – such is creative licensing. Read, Review, and Spread the word.
HA
Helga sighed wistfully again as she stared out the window at the dreary rainy morning. It should have been perfect; it should have been everything she ever dreamed. Arnold, that beautiful, sick creature, he was amazing. At least, he was amazing while he was hers. Probably still nothing short of perfect, but she no longer held a claim.
Another sigh fogged up the glass as the rain continued to pound onto her building, forcing her to think of weeping. But Helga G. Pataki was strong, and would not give him the subconscious satisfaction of her tears. She would not cry. Wallow in her self misery and heartbreak maybe, but certainly not cry.
Memories flashed before her eyes, the way he would stroke her skin, leaving a trail of fire in his wake. The breathy moans they would emit while engaging in the most primal expression of love and affection echoed through her ears. His sweet words, soft caresses – everything she wished she didn't love anymore, but she did. And she hated herself for it.
Suddenly, while thinking over her situation once again, she came to a disturbing realization. She was just like Helena; William Shakespeare's fair creature that adored a man who fell out of treasuring her. According to the master playwright, Helena and Demetrius had a beautiful love affair, but when Hermia's – another character in love – father promised her to Demetrius, said young man dropped Helena like last week's trash. Hermia meanwhile was deeply in love with Lysander, and had decided to run away with her lover to the safety of his Aunt's home outside the city of Athens, where the play is partly staged.
Helga, though, was certain that her story held no faerie-induced happy ending like A Midsummer Night's Dream. The fictional characters all found their picturesque finale, hence why the play is labeled a comedy. All the lovers were reunited in happiness with the help of certain faeries: namely Puck, a smart-mouthy yet loyal hobgoblin, and Oberon, the King of the faeries. Helga was confident that those clever spirits couldn't help her case.
Although, the similarities between the stories were astounding. Arnold and Helga had been together just shy of six months, but their passion was so hot most would think they were still in the beginning physical aspects of their relationship. As soon as they started dating, it was as if no other woman in the world existed for Arnold. Not even Lila could sway his eye away from Helga – the Helga who was desperately in love with him. The fates had aligned, and given the young blonde woman the one thing in life she desired and deserved most of all.
That is, until Lila had taken an interest in and began dating a smooth-talking Lorenzo.
Suddenly, Arnold shifted his gaze from his completely dedicated, nicer-than-before, and usually kinky girlfriend, to a former crush that was no longer single. He spent less time with Helga on even the most friendship-like level, and began fawning over Lila Sawyer once again. Helga had tried to keep Arnold's attention, but it had ended in Arnold pulling Helga aside to deliver the famed 'I don't think this is working anymore' talk. He even had the nerve to say it was because he had heard a rumor spreading around their senior class that Lorenzo was going to dump Lila in favor of Helga. Right, like that would happen.
Isn't it funny, the more things change, the more they stay the same?
"It's just like elementary, and even middle school." Helga murmured, watching the window fog up as her hot breath made contact with the cold glass. She remembered her attempts at, and she hate to label it chasing, Arnold; and couldn't help but think of Helena's plight.
"We should be wooed, and were not made to woo." The broken woman whispered, sorrow once again entering her along with the memories of the conversations she and Arnold had on the subject. Helena was right, we cannot fight for love as men may do.
Suddenly, it all made sense to Helga. She couldn't stay here anymore; it hurt too much to watch Arnold flatter Lila with the same pretty words he used on the now scorned young woman. Of course, she would have to take leaving in steps, if only for Phoebe's sake; the young woman would be devastated at the loss of her best friend. She would be gone for the weekend first, then a week, a month, a few months, then, forever.
Sitting up with a purpose, Helga decided she would go somewhere it wasn't raining – the rain only reminded her of her depression. Looking out the window, by some strange miracle she saw a patch of blue sky; it was east. Where could she go that was east? Suddenly, the first smile in a long time crossed her thin lips as she began humming an old Sinatra song.
"Start spreading the news, I'm leaving today. I want to be a part of it, New York, New York. My little town blues are melting away. I'm gonna make a brand new start of it in old New York. If I can make it there, I'd make it anywhere. It's up to you, New York, New York." She knew she skipped a few lines, but vagabond shoes didn't really apply to her. Her singing picked up as she grabbed her purse, locked her apartment, and left.
HA
Arnold and Lorenzo were standing nose to nose, glaring at each other in attempts to kill without physical exertion. Lila was sitting on a park bench, watching the two with surprise. Arnold was supposed to love Helga. He had to – it's the natural order of things. She opened her mouth to speak, interrupting the overly-testosterone-charged air.
"You do advance your cunning more and more. When truth kills truth, o devilish holy fray! These vows are Helga's: will you give her o'er? Weigh oath with oath, and you will nothing weigh: your vows to her and me, put in two scales, will even weigh, and both as light as tales." The red head pointed out, growing tired of Arnold's futile pursuits of her affections. Arnold turned his gaze towards her, and she watched his eyes soften.
"I had no judgment when to her I swore." He stated simply, and Lila gasped as if someone had struck her.
"Nor none, in my mind, now you give her o'er." She snapped back, and Lorenzo brushed Arnold aside to take his girlfriend's hand.
"Arnold loves her, and he loves not you." Realizing what the situation had become, Lorenzo knew it was now a fight over Lila's heart. Too bad Arnold was one step ahead of him.
"O Lila, goddess, nymph, perfect, divine! To what, my love, shall I compare thine eye? Crystal is muddy. O, how ripe in show thy lips, those kissing cherries, tempting grow! That pure congealed white, high Taurus' snow, fann'd with the eastern wind, turns to a crow when thou hold'st up thy hand: o, let me kiss this princess of white, this seal of bliss!" the blonde man proclaimed, down on one knee with his arms stretched out. Lila gaped at him, hurt written all over her face.
"O spite! O hell! I see you are all bent to set against her for your merriment: if you were civil and knew courtesy, you would not do her this much injury. If you were a man, as men you are in show, you would not use a gentle lady so; to vow and swear and superpraise my parts, when I am sure you love her with your heart. You both are rivals, and love Lila; and now both rivals, to mock Helga: to trim exploit, a manly enterprise, to conjure tears up in a poor maid's eyes with your derision! None of noble sort would so offend a virgin and extort a poor soul's patience, all to make you sport." Lorenzo grabbed Arnold's shoulder and spun him around, almost hitting the young man in the face.
"You are unkind, Arnold, be not so; for you love Helga, this you know I know: and here, with all good will, with all my heart, in Helga's love I yield you up my part; and yours of Lila to me bequeath, whom I do love and will do till my death." The dark haired man said seriously, so seriously that Lila scoffed from the background of the male moment.
"Never did mockers waste more idle breath." she muttered, only to be ignored as the man-off continued.
"Lorenzo, keep thy Helga, I will none: if e'er I loved her, all that love is gone. My heart to her but as a guest-wise sojourn'd, and now to Lila is it home return'd, there to remain." Arnold announced, walking over to Lila and placing a hand on her should possessively. Said red head rolled her eyes and shrugged his hand away. Lorenzo missed her eye action, focusing more on the fact that he thought Arnold might actually be winning.
"Lila, it is not so." He would have continued, if only Arnold hadn't cut him off.
"Disparage not the faith thou dost not know, lest, to thy peril, thou aby it dear." Lorenzo, now seeing red at Arnold's repositioned hand on Lila's shoulder, just about tackled the blonde into the dirt. Lila, seeing what was about to happen, stepped away from both boys.
"Enough! Both of you! Arnold, you may very well not love Helga any more, if you loved her at all from what my ears heard, but I don't love you. I love Lorenzo, and with him I'll stay. I hope you find the one that makes you happy, but it certainly won't be me." And with that, she wrapped her arms around Lorenzo and the two left the park and a wounded Arnold behind them.
Vaguely, Arnold wondered if he would ever win.
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