Once they were friends. Before the schemes and the fires, the accusations and the reviews, before the sugar bowl and that fateful night, back when the schism was just a distant concept they knew but couldn't fully understand, before Beatrice Baudelaire fell in and out of love with Lemony Snicket and before Olaf was a count, they were friends.
Once Beatrice was a nervous foreign girl who had a hard time adapting. Once Olaf was a lonely boy who had a hard time with words. They found the same sanctuary on the stage. It was natural that after doing so many acting exercises together, they would get close, the same way they were close to everyone else in their acting classes. But there was something else too. Something in the way Beatrice softly laughed when Olaf made a mistake that didn't make him feel mocked, as he did when it was another kid. Something in the careless way Olaf spoke that made Beatrice feel less pressured to be always perfect as her other friends did. Something in the way both felt at ease near each other. Something that was not fated to last.
"What do you want to be when you grow up?" Beatrice asked, leaning against the auditorium seat.
From the line behind her, Olaf lied on two seats. The auditorium was empty. They were not supposed to be there. It didn't stop them.
"An actor, of course!"
She looked back, a teasing smile on her face.
"Won't your parents disapprove of it?"
He huffed.
"They don't have to approve it. I will be old enough to not need it. Plus, I am already doing this volunteer thing for them." He shrugged. "What do you want to be when you grow up?"
"An actress, of course!" She mirrored his answer.
"Won't..." Olaf wanted to tease her right back, but he trailed off as he realized he couldn't say the same words. Beatrice hadn't seen or talked to her parents in years. Her blood family was miles and miles away. "Won't you want to get married and have children?" He managed to ask. He noticed she seemed to feel embarrassed by the question, and he wasn't finished yet. "With Snicket?"
Beatrice had her eyes lowered and her cheeks blushing as she answered.
"Who says I can't do both?"
Olaf sat up.
"You don't even deny you like him anymore. It's no fun."
"He is an interesting and intelligent boy." She said, trying to not confirm nor deny she liked him.
"He is annoying and talks too much." He mumbled.
Beatrice just giggled in reply. It was a beautiful sound.
"What are you doing?"
It was night, and their chaperone was deeply in sleep. They too were supposed to be sleeping. Yet there was Beatrice, fully dressed in day clothes, opening the hotel window. Olaf had realized something was up since morning.
"There's work to be done." She whispered.
"Our chaperone said-"
"Our chaperone is wrong!" Beatrice sighed. "Don't you see? If we want to fix things, we must do it ourselves."
Olaf looked at her as if he didn't recognize her. He reminded himself that this was the same Beatrice that has always been his friend, the same girl he would trust his life to.
"You are speaking like him." She was also the same Beatrice who started spending an awfully long amount of time with Snicket, who now took his side on almost every argument.
Olaf pretended not to notice it. He didn't want to admit it, but he was afraid of losing his best (only) friend.
"Please, just don't tell anyone that you saw me leaving. Pretend you were sleeping." She asked, both her face and her voice now softer.
It was not a face or voice Olaf could ever say no to.
He walked to where she stood, and pulled the window all the way open.
"I'm going with you."
"What are you doing?"
Olaf turned around and tried to hide the magnifying glass, but he knew Beatrice had already noticed he was putting into practice a physics lesson they had learned long ago.
"What are you doing?" He asked back, defensive.
"You were playing with fire." She said, voice low and tinted with disappointment, though it didn't have all the judgment he would receive from anyone else.
Wasn't that what he appreciated the most in her? His parents seemed to always look at only his flaws, most of his associates looked down on him, and even his girlfriend recently seemed to be trying to change him into something he was not meant to be. Olaf loved Kit, he really did, but he sometimes felt he had to hide things from her.
Beatrice was the only person who always seemed to accept him as he was, and even if they were not as close as they had once been, she was the last person he wanted to disappoint.
"It was a scientific experiment." He said, telling himself it was not a lie, just a different way of saying the truth.
"Really?" She raised an eyebrow.
"I am away from grass, papers and anything else that is flammable."
"The ants are living creatures too, you know."
"So was the chicken you ate for lunch."
She seemed taken aback by his comment, but she quickly covered it by crossing her arms.
"How old are you? Ten?" She said in a tone full of disdain.
He huffed in annoyance. What bothered him was not her comment but the fact that she seemed truly upset because of some ants. She never used to get upset with him before.
He remembered a stupid myth, about girls growing up and maturing faster than boys. Despite being the same age as her, she now seemed so grown up, and he felt he might as well be only ten near her.
Of course, it was not because she was a girl (a woman?) and he was a boy. It was because Beatrice was smart and he was dumb. Beatrice was independent, she lived on her own and took care of herself, she worked and paid her bills, she cooked and washed her own clothes and managed to keep the secrets of her friends who were in big trouble. Olaf lived with two overprotective and strict parents, in a house where maids and butlers did the chores, he never had to worry about a bill and he didn't get involved in any of the serious matters of the organization.
Beatrice was an adult doing what she could for the world. Olaf was a kid who found entertainment in burning ants.
It felt awkward to knock on her door. Olaf had been few times on Beatrice's apartment. As time passed, they only grew further apart. He didn't get along well with her friends and she didn't get along well with his friends, and both of their friend groups didn't get along well with each other.
But tonight was really important to him, and he wanted her to be there, because she would understand it better than anyone. She had been by his side from the start.
It passed through his mind that he shouldn't have waited until the very day to talk to her, that she could already have something else to do that Friday night. Olaf felt stupid, even more stupid than he usually felt around Beatrice's friends. It was even worse, because her friends did it on purpose, but Beatrice never talked down to him, so if he felt stupid near her it was probably because he was stupid. But his hands moved on their own and now she had opened the door and wasn't she so beautiful.
"Olaf?" She asked, a look of surprise on her face. She didn't look pleased, but she still let him in.
"I don't know if you heard about the opera tonight..." He started, hating how awkward he sounded.
"I did. Congratulations."
Olaf raised his chin a bit, and some of the awkwardness seemed to fade, the strange tone with which Beatrice said those words unnoticed. He did deserve congratulations and he was damn proud, because he had worked hard to be cast, and even harder to get his parents to stop nagging at him about what was proper and what was not, to get them to accept that acting was his true passion.
"I got you a ticket."
"That's very kind." Beatrice frowned. He felt the awkwardness returning. She had something else planned, he shouldn't have come- "But I already got tickets."
Oh.
"Are you going with someone? With... your boyfriend?" He didn't want to say that name, it was too unpleasant to be said during such a happy occasion.
"I'm going with someone, but it's not him." She said, seeming to also avoid it. Maybe more for Olaf's sake than for anything else.
"Who is it, then?"
"Bertrand." He frowned, not recognizing the name. Beatrice frowned back. "You know. My partner. He took acting classes with us."
"I have absolutely no idea of who you are talking about." He said truthfully.
"You are impossible," Beatrice said, finally showing a smile, in that tone that let him know she wasn't really mad.
"Partner, huh. Didn't know you were the cheating type." Olaf teased.
"Shut up!" She said, chuckling. "I meant work partner."
He frowned at that. Work in this case most certainly meant volunteering.
"Are you attending for... work reasons?"
"Of course not." She said, all traces of smile disappearing. It was odd. "We are good friends. We will just hang out to have some fun together."
Olaf nodded. He should be happy she would be there, partner or no partner.
"Where will you be seating?"
She frowned.
"Why do you want to know?"
"I will try to find you during the curtain call."
She showed a smile that didn't reach her eyes.
"You will know how to find me."
He smiled back at her, already imagining how surprised she would be if on the next day he knew the exact seat number.
"Well. See you tonight, then." He said, turning around to leave.
Beatrice opened the door.
"See you."
He was already out of the apartment when she called him again. He looked back with a puzzled look.
For a moment, she seemed to be fighting an internal battle. Then she smiled.
"Break a leg."
"I will." He replied, feeling his confidence boosted.
Beatrice had always believed in him. Even if they weren't as close anymore, she was still a dear friend.