"I got in!"
A sleepy head emerged from the duvet covers. "Hmm?" Sitting up, the taller of the two women yawned, pushing her loose hair back from her face as her flatmate bounced down on the bed beside her.
A letter was thrust in front of her face. "I got in! I'm the new Etcetera!" The younger of the two paused, then proffered an envelope to her half-asleep companion. "And it looks like you're in too, Tommy."
"If you're Etcetera...what the hell am I gonna be?" Snatching the letter, she tore it open, pulling the folded sheet of paper out. "Lesse..." Skimming her slightly slanted ebony eyes over the words, a small smile curving her lips up. "I got in too." She folded the letter, replaced it in the envelope and curled back under the duvet.
"And?"
One dark brow rose. "And what?"
Smacking her hands down on her companion's legs with a wail of growing exasperation, there was an un-Tommy-like squeal. "Erm...I didn't realise you still had company, Tommy."
The black-haired woman smirked. "You know Sylvie lives here now." Another sleepy face appeared alongside Tommy's, blue eyes fuzzy with indignation. Tommy pressed a kiss to her lover's lips.
"Sorry, Syl. I thought you were already at work." The youngest of the three gave the blonde a sheepish grin. Groping around on the mattress, she found Tommy's leg and smacked at it. "Tell me!" Putting on her most brattish voice, she whined. "Please?"
Drawing her petite blonde lover's head against her shoulder, the exotic- looking woman smiled broadly. "You're looking at the new Bombalurina."
"Eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeh!" Doing what would have to be her trademarked squeal, the blue-haired girl threw herself at her flatmate, squashing the unfortunate blond between her and the blonde's girlfriend. "Um...sorry, Syl."
The blonde shrugged. "I don't mind...as long as Tommy doesn't mind me having another woman's tits rubbed in my face."
"Horny bitch." Tommy chuckled, her cheek rubbing against the blonde's hair. Looking back to the young dancer she considered more of a sister than her own siblings, she reached up and mussed the girl's blue hair. "You go and practice kid. We're gonna...sleep some more.
"Sure you are." Grinning, the petite dancer skipped out of the room, making a beeline for the phone, after carefully shutting the door behind her.
*
Antoine O'Neil paced across the rehearsal room floor, humming the tune of 'Skimbleshanks' under his breath. He was in his element now, preparing to help in teaching the new arrivals to the cast the ensemble routines.
At last recollection, there were eight new arrivals in the August turnover, five females and three males. Two of them were swing. All the more to teach them. Antoine masked a smile. He hadn't realised how much he missed being an instructor.
Straightening his back, he neatly crossed his ankles, then flopped loosely forward, his hands brushing the smooth floor. Lifting himself back up, he managed to side step to avoid a friendly slap on the rump.
"Dang!"
"Nice to see you too, Andre."
One hand on his heart, the other grasping Antoine's shoulder, Andy sighed, shaking his head in mock consternation. "How many times do I have to tell you? I'm not Andre. I'm not even Andrew half the time."
"Pardon, Andre." The peroxide blonde smothered a grin. "I...uh...'ow you say? Fuggedaboudit."
A skeptical brown brow rose. "You know, sometimes I really doubt that you are French, Antoine. Or dare I say...Tony?"
"Don't you feckin think about it!" The half-French, half-Irish could switch accents with the best of them. Bi-lingual and extremely intelligent, his family supported the theory that he was insane for wanting to dance for a living. His beach-bum look didn't help either.
Andy Greyson grinned widely. One of the longest standing Swings in the current cast, the twenty-four year old had fought long and hard to get into the cast. His abilities were never questioned, but his timing was always atrocious. Every audition he had made it to, a 'big name' had been lined up for the same roles.
So, out of desperation, he had tottered into an audition for a new Grizabella in two-inch heels, a scarlet cocktail dress and with his dark hair loose, only to lose the part when he had belted out the song in an utterly male voice.
Unsurprisingly, the casting agents had remembered him. No matter how they tried, the image of a rough Northern lad in a frock was permanently burned into their collective memories. The sound of his voice as he ignored the order to stop and sang the full version of Memory a capella and perfectly in tune, stuck with them too.
So, next changeover, he had been pulled in as Swing. Not the prime role he had hoped for, but being understudy for five of the main male characters - he told himself - was better than not being in the show.
Plus, he got to play all of the best roles at least once a month. A bit of variety never hurt anyone. Plus it was fun.
"So what's the buzz around here?" He gestured around the room. Several other cast members were around, in particular, those who were remaining in the cast, as well as some eager-looking young new dancers.
Antoine glanced at the list pinned to the wall. "We're still waiting for a few people before we can get started." He explained.
As if on cue, the door crashed inwards, revealing two figures. "Jonny boy!"
The current Mungojerrie, Jonny Nicholas, swung around to face the owner of the voice. A grin quickly lit up his features. "Hey! It's the blue lady!" He and the new arrival met midway across the room, the slightly taller of the two swinging the smaller off their feet.
"Aiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiie!" The blue-haired girl in the dancer's arms shrieked, her feet flailing for a foothold unsuccessfully.
"Lemme guess..." Andy leaned closer to Antoine. "That has to be our new Etcetera."
"Got it in one." His blonde companion agreed, eyeing the girl curiously. She really looked like she would be more comfortable in a punk band. Rows of earrings ran up each ear, a stud glinting at her nose. Pale blue eyes lined with black liner and carefully applied makeup looked massive in her elfin face, lips a deep shade red.
In a tight-cropped top, her toned belly was bared, a ring of fire circling her pierced navel. A pair of cat's eyes peeked out from beneath the back of the shirt. Hacked off denim shorts barely covered her rear, her lean arms and legs bare but for the immense boots on her tiny feet.
"So you finally joined our esteemed ranks, then?" Jonny was now holding the grinning girl at arm's length, looking her up and down. "So who did you kill for privilege?"
She reached out to poke him in the chest. "I'll have you know that I'm a damn good dancer! I could be a better Mungo than you, if I wanted to." She paused, looked down at her body. "And if I was male."
"She tried the double cartwheel the other day." A sultry voice purred from the doorway. "She didn't realise you need two people. It was...rather amusing."
All eyes swung to the glamorous and striking figure in the door. Tall with a smoothly curved figure, the woman had a tint of an oriental look in her features, her eyes dark, hair long, black and wavy silk to her waist.
"Did not!" The blue-haired girl stuck her tongue out, only for Jonny to firmly lick it. "Ew! Jonny! What would your boyfriend say?"
"He would say it served you right for sticking your tongue out." Jonny wrapped his arms around her waist and grinned. "How you doing, Tommy?"
The dark-haired woman shrugged expressively, sashaying into the room as if oblivious to the fact that every pair of eyes was on her. "I have Etcetera living with me and you want to know how I'm doing?" She rolled her eyes and waved dismissively. "Men. Useless."
Strolling over to Antoine and Andy, the taller of the two new arrivals gave them both a dazzling smile. Her every move screamed sex and she knew how to use it to her advantage. "I'm guessing one of you is in charge here."
Andy vaguely managed to point at Antoine. Normally, he didn't look at women who were so overtly sexual, but this one had knocked his socks off. If he had ever imagined Bombalurina as a woman, this was her.
"I'm Thomasina. Most people just call me Tommy." She offered her hand to the older of the two men. He nodded, shook the extended hand politely.
"Antoine." He said.
"Who's the sex-bomb?" The company's Asparagus approached, looking the woman up and down with clear interest.
Glancing at him, lips arching in a smirk, Tommy feigned a breathy voice. "Ooh! A man! Can you take me back to your cave to rut with you, oh powerful manly man?" Her laughter was contagious, her hair swaying as she shook her head. "I need to know what time we finish, so I can have my partner put the dinner on."
"Lucky guy." John Marquez spread his hand on his chest and sighed expressively.
"Um...girl."
"Um...pardon?"
Tommy's grin widened. "My significant other. She's a she. A female. A girl. A non-male...as far as I know anyway." She paused, offered her hand. "I never introduced myself properly, did I? I'm Thomasina, radical feminist and lesbian and hater of all things penis-endowed, which I hope you won't take personally. Bad experiences. Nasty story." She smiled once again. "No offence to any of you delightful chaps though."
"And you're our new sex-kitten, Bomba? Lover of all things male and horny?"
Preening, Tommy nodded. "What can I say? I'm a good actress."
"Melissa!" Antoine waved one of the other women over. "You gotta meet your replacement, darlin'. She's priceless." A willowy brunette made her way across. "Tommy, meet Melissa, our current Bomba and previously a classy Cassandra."
"Two Bomb's together...are you sure that's a good idea?" Melissa gave the dark-haired woman a welcoming smile. "Nice to see they got someone who can walk the walk and talk the talk too."
Tommy shrugged with a pleasant smile. "I try."
On the other side of the room, Jonny had dragged his blue-haired companion over to meet his latest Rumpleteazer. The girl was surprisingly shy, considering the role she played, her cheeks flushing as she took in the punk girl.
"So...what name do you go by now?" Jonny had forgotten to ask that minor detail.
"Just Blue." Arm still around his waist, she grinned. "It's easy enough to remember unless you happen to be colour blind."
Another pair of young men joined the triad, identical grins on identical faces. "So we got us a new Etcetera to torment, huh?" One of the two remarked, his dark brown eyes glinting with mischief. "Does she bite, Jonny?"
"Only if provoked." Grinning at the blue-haired girl, he gestured to the identical young men, both of whom were just over the same height as her. "Blue, meet Will and Nicky Johnson. Don't ask which is which cos no one...not even wardrobe know."
Offering a hand, she couldn't help laughing as the two fought to shake first. "Please tell me they don't play anyone like Munkustrap and Macavity. Seeing those two bitch-slapping each other would be beyond ridiculous."
"One of them is Bill Bailey and the other is Carbucketty." Swatting the two away, the fight developed into a pouncing match, both of the brunettes yelling indignantly and tumbling each other on the floor. "You wouldn't think they were kittens to look at them. They're so mature and dignified, aren't they?"
Blue chuckled, her arm looped through his. "And the big guy?"
"Big guy?" She gestured to a tall, shaven-headed man who was striding towards the tussling brothers purposefully. "Oh! That's Robbie." She arched a brow. "You mean character? He plays Munkustrap."
"Munkustrap?" She echoed, staring at the tough-looking man. Abruptly, he grabbed the twins, sending them both rolling in opposite directions, grinning as they assumed their kitten roles, fawning over him and vying for pats on the head.
"Do those kids ever stay out of character?" An older-looking women drawled. Her ash-blonde hair hung in a tight braid at the base of her neck, her slim face defined and delicate. "Really, they should behave more." She glided forward to meet the new cast girl. "Joely."
Blue nodded. "I'm Blue." She shook the extended hand with a grin. "You have to be Cassandra...you've got the moves for it..."
Joely shrugged modestly. "One of those little perks of being made of rubber." She smiled.
"What's made of rubber?"
"Um...nothing, Tommy." Blue grinned sweetly at her roommate. Dropping onto the floor, she stretched her slim body, until her chin was resting just above her knees, her hands wrapped around her ankles. "When do we get started?"
Antoine and Andy crossed the room. "As soon as our new Mistoffelees shows face."
"Anyone I know?" Blue glanced up at them, then to Tommy, who was stretching along a wall bar. "Tom?"
The older dancer shrugged. "I don't know every dancer in the city, kid." Lifting her leg parallel with her body, she pulled a face at her younger friend. "Most of them, yes, but not all of them."
"What's his name?"
Antoine grinned, the other dancers spread around the room already engaged in their warm-ups. "Malcolm Donovan."
Abruptly, Tommy looked away from Blue, staring fixedly at a spot on the mirror. The younger of the two crooked a brow and laughed out loud. "So, Tommy," She drawled conversationally. "Malcolm Donovan.heard of him?"
Jerking her foot off the bar and deliberately catching her roommate across the head, she shot a mock-glare at the indignant blue-haired girl. "Well, yeah. And he's not the guy I woulda cast as Misto."
"How so?"
A shadowy figure drifting into the room answered Andy's question. Shrouded in a trailing, black leather jacket, with hands thrust deep into the pockets, his face was slowly lifted, pale eyes etched in black.
"Oh. My. God!" Blue back-flipped onto her feet, gaping at the new arrival. "You're telling me this is Misto? As in the magic kitty?"
The young man nodded. "That I am."
"Dude!" Raising her hand, she gave the startled dancer a high five. "You have the coolest hair, man!"
Self-consciously raising his hand to the black- and red-streaked mane that hung around his shoulders, he half-grinned. "Yours isn't too bad, either." He nodded towards her vivid peacock blue spikes.
"Mal, nice to see you again." Tommy nodded a polite greeting, pulling Blue back from him by the back of her shorts. "Lemme guess.you went for the magic kitty so you could use your own make-up, huh?"
He spread his hands in a miniscule shrug. "I'm under strict orders to follow the given patterns." He admitted with a threat of a smile, slipping his trench coat from his shoulders and tossing it onto the growing pile of bags in the corner.
In spite of his ominous appearance, his loose sweat pants and T-shirt that had been concealed by the trench seemed to make him fit in with the rest of the group now. He bent and pulled his huge boots off to reveal well- used dance shoes. Pulling his hair back into a tight ponytail, he clapped his hands together and nodded. "Are we ready?"
"You know," Andy murmured, half to himself. "The only time I saw such a dramatic change before, I swear the guy was called Clark Kent."
A high-pitched giggle from Blue immediately pulled all attention away from the gothic Mistoffelees, the punk girl hastily slapping her hand over her mouth to stifle another demented giggle fit.
"Are you laughing at me?" Andy took a step towards the girl, who was at least a foot and a half shorter than him, his hands on his hips. "I mean, if you are laughing at me, I'll not be.amused." With each word he had bent closer and closer to her, trying to fight the urge to grin.
Leaning back in time with his bending forward until she was practically bent double, she blinked up at him, eyes full of innocence. "Me? Laugh?" Shaking her head, she choked on a giggle. "Nope! No, sir! Not me! I'd never laugh at you!"
"Um.Andy, leave the kitten alone." Antoine suggested, his lips twitching with the threat of a smile. The actor sighed, glanced back down at his 'victim', who nodded in agreement with her peroxide saviour.
"S'right! You heard! Leave me 'lone! You.you.big bully!" Balanced on her hands and feet, she shuffled away from him, still bent over, until she had space to flip her feet over and land neatly on them, straightening to her full four feet, eleven inches. "I," She prodded him firmly on the chest, barely reaching his sternum, "Ain't afraid of you!"
Clearing his throat, Antoine waved the grinning rivals apart. "I think its about time we got started, people." He suggested. "We've got a long day of rehearsal ahead and I suggest we should get it underway before lunchtime."
Rubbing her head across Andy's chest, Blue did a merry cartwheel. "Okie! Let's go, everyone! Let's dance our tushies off!"
"Is she always so.?" Antoine furtively shot a questioning look at Tommy.
The dark woman nodded, suppressing a small smile. "Always." She replied, as the younger girl started bouncing on the spot.
*
Leaning against the tall mirrors, Jonny and Antoine watched their latest Etcetera watch her feet carefully as she slowed down the tap routine, then gradually built up her pace, eyes never rising from her feet.
Ad libbing as she went, she swept rapidly into a routine more familiar to the Rocky Horror Show, spinning her way dizzyingly across the smooth floor.
"When Tommy said she was always like that." Antoine trailed off helplessly, shaking his head in disbelief. "I didn't believe her."
Jonny chuckled. "My friend," He drawled, smiling. "You have finally met the living incarnation of Etcetera." He took a swig from his water bottle and swilled it in his dry mouth. "She's worked far harder than this before."
Spinning to a halt beside the two men, Blue grinned and shakily steadied herself against Jonny. "Who has?"
Jonny gave the petite girl an affection hug, as she dug into one of her pockets and withdrew a paper bag of jelly babies with a delighted squeal. "You, ugly. What was it? Six hour-long shows a day, six days a week?"
Viciously biting the head off a red baby, she shrugged. "Something like that." Popping the other half of the mutilated jelly baby into her mouth, she winked. "Most of them were private performances though. You'd be amazed what people would pay to see."
"How did you manage to stay on your feet for all of them?" Antoine inquired weakly, accepting a proffered sweet. "I'm exhausted after the two shows on matinee days. I can't imagine dancing for another two hours on top of them."
Dropping onto her rear, Blue steered her legs into the splits and stretched to touch each foot in turn. "Stamina, I guess." She replied. "And the thought of being able to buy enough shelter and food to see me through the next day." She paused, rolling onto her feet again. "Plus, an endless supply of jelly babies."
"Jelly babies?"
She nodded, tossing one up in the air, aiming to catch it in her mouth and yelping in surprise as it bounced off her nose and skittered away across the floor. "Energy bursts, plus sugar highs all rolled into one yummy little bundle."
"Sweeties!" All three swung round to see the grinning face of 'Etcetera's' sidekick, Electra. Another of the new cast members, Georgina was a level of craziness that almost matched the blue-haired, sweet- supplied dancer. "Gimme!" Grabbing the paper bag, she darted off across the room, closely followed by the shrieking Blue.
Malcolm and Tommy, who were just returning from their cigarette break with several of the other cast members, just avoided being knocked over backwards, as first Georgina, then Blue dived between their feet.
Nicky and Will Jonson were quick to join the fray. "Wassin the bag? Huh? Huh?"
"She got my sweeties!" Blue mournfully pouted, shrieking all the louder as one of the Jonson twins pinned her and the other went after the bag. "No fair! Leccie! Leccie! Help! They wanna steal my sweets!"
Slipping easily into character, the older 'cats' tutted in disapproval at the kittenish antics, waiting for the firm hand of Munkustrap to come into play.
He, of course, was the last person to enter the room, to be greeted by the bizarre sight of Blue sitting on top of one of the Jonsons. A paper bag was gripped firmly in her mouth, her hands dancing on the howling boy's stomach.
Barely a foot away, the other Jonson and Georgina were tussling, trying to snatch the bag from the other girl unsuccessfully.
"Nooooooooooooow!"
Abruptly, all four froze. One hand hanging inches above her victim's chest, both Blue and whichever Jonson it was raised innocent eyes to Robbie. Georgina and the other twin rolled apart and did the same.
Blinking owlishly, Blue cracked into a wide grin as Robbie's stern expression melted away as he started to chuckle. Bouncing off the dancer beneath her, she trotted over and offered the bag of babies. "Want one?"
"Why can't you lot ever behave?" A somewhat aggravated voice sighed. "Rehearsals are meant to be taken seriously, not clowned around in."
"Whoa." Georgina muttered, looking at her broad-strapped watch. "She took longer than usual to be her usual bitchy self. I wonder if she's feeling okay."
Both Jonsons sniggered and the other cast members near enough to hear what the girl had said, cleared their throats and smothered wry grins. No matter how much they toed the line, nothing was ever good enough for Kashka Henderson.
Unbeknownst to her, the actress-cum-singer-dancer was developing a reputation. On top of that, it was known to the more light-hearted cast members that Andy Greyson could do a wicked impression of her.
"They're just trying out their characters." Benjamin tried to smooth the woman's ruffled feathers. "No harm in that, is there?"
Crossing her arms over her chest, Kashka gave a huff of indignation, which Andy made a mental note to add to his repetoire. "I just wants things to go right, but how can they, when the newbies won't behave and rehearse like they're meant to?"
"These newbies." Robbie gestured to them in the group, some of who were following the saga, others who were stretching and re-warming up on the barre. "Have got their routines as well as you did, after less than a fortnight of rehearsal."
Reluctantly relinquishing the argument, Kashka pulled her sweater off and moved to a vacant spot on the barre to stretch. "Well, shall we get on with the rehearsal then?" She demanded snippily.
Glancing over at the rehearsal pianist, Antoine nodded. "We're working some more on the ball today. We've still got some rough edges to smooth there."
*
"Having fun?" Malcolm lifted his eyes from the mirror to find his fellow black- and white cat grinning down at him, barely recognisable in the carefully applied Alonzo make-up.
He shrugged expressively. "I'm not used to doing black lines sideways. Normally, I have then going up and down over my eyes." He stared back at the mirror dolefully. "Do my brows look okay?"
"Honey," Raymond winked at him. "You gotta tweeze more often, but on the painting side, you got ten outta ten."
Half-grinning at the taller dancer, Malcolm shook his head and carefully added his cat nose. Years of applying delicate eye-make-up had blessed him with an exceptionally steady painting hand.
"Anyone told you that you're crazy recently?"
Swinging around the mirror and dropping onto the spare stool beside the young dancer, Raymond grinned again, eyes glinting devilishly, his almost- afro hair standing on and end and completely at odds with his painted face.
"They don't tell me nothin' else around here." He glanced down at himself, swinging his tail into his blue jean-clad lap. "Gotta love the life when you can dress as a big pussy for a livin'."
Malcolm couldn't help chuckling softly, although he knew it went completely against his nature. He didn't chuckle. At least, not in front of anyone else, but the big, brash and completely barmy American.
Raymond had been one of the actors who had both toured in America, played in CATS on Broadway, briefly spent some time in the Hamburg cast, before making his way over to join the London litter.
"Why've you still got your make-up on? I thought it was a practise run today, to see how well we could manage."
Leaning closer to the younger man, Raymond grabbed a brush to tidy up the thin black whiskers that lined the other man's cheeks. Smirking, he drawled. "This comin' from the dude who wears make-up twenty-four-seven?"
"You know what I mean." Malcolm glanced back to the mirror, pleased with the result of his first attempt at the un-Crow-like Mistoffelees make-up. "We haven't even got our costumes yet."
Raymond swung off the seat, his tail slapping against Malcolm's ribs. "Oops!" He grinned cheerfully. "I'm wearin' my face cos it looks so damn cute on me." He paused, pursed his lips. "You still comin' to eat with the new guys and Andy and Tony?"
"Wouldn't miss it." Re-applying his nose, he gave his trade-marked half- grin to the massive actor, who nodded.
"See ya, short-stuff." Disappearing out of the dressing room, Raymond's words carried back to him as he greeted the other cast members in their dressing areas, his voice not entirely too different to the man who had voiced Darth Vader.
What had his name been again?
Shrugging, Malcolm turned back to the mirror, wiggled his nose twice. Even if they couldn't pin-point the subtle nuances he'd made to the make- up, there was no way the management would miss the fact that Mistoffelees was one-hundred percent a gothic cat.
*
"I liked my Griz make-up!"
"Ladies, please."
"I'm Griz though, not you." Helen Marsden stuck her tongue out at Tommy in a purely mature fashion. The dark-haired woman raised her manicured, scarlet nails to her 'rival' in mock threat.
"Don't make me use these on you, babe." She warned, keeping a straight face remarkably well in spite of Georgina and Blue's barely smothered giggles. "I got 'em. Trained with 'em. Black belt in bitch fights."
"I can't believe I'm seein' this."
Andy grinned at Antoine. "And you though the fresh ones would be less crazy than our old kids?" He wriggled his way between the new Bombalurina and Grizabella, gently steering Tommy's claws away from his face. "Dinner first, then showdown at twenty paces, all right? I want to enjoy the entertainment on a full stomach."
Gracefully accepting the teasing caution, the two women looped arms, pulled a face at the young man and sauntered off in the direction of the restaurant that had been booked for the occasion.
Holding the door open for the stragglers, Andy was the last in line at the buffet and found himself standing behind the solitary Blue, who was piling her plate with all manner of odd salads and vegetables.
"Alone at last, eh, Blue?" He grinned at her, his one vivid green and one dark brown eye glinting mischievously. He splatted some kind of supposedly- healthy food onto his plate and waited for the witty retort that he had grown accustomed to.
Her eyes seemed fixed uneasily on her plate. Shuffling from one foot to another, she shrugged stiffly. "Seems so."
"What's up with you?" He gave her a playful nudge. "You're not usually little Miss shy-and-silent."
Pulling away sharply, Blue back-stepped hastily. "I'm not allowed to be quiet, huh? I have to be bloody happy all the time?"
Holding up his hands in submission, Andy hastily took a pacifying step back. "Easy, shorty. Easy! I don't bite!" He gave her a weak grin, spreading his hands. "But apparently you do, little one."
"Wh-what did you call me?" The plate slipped from her hands, as she took another step backwards. The disc of white china seemed to fall in slow motion, shattering deafeningly on the smooth floor.
"Kid?"
Blue's pale eyes snapped towards her roommate, her face paler than Andy could recall seeing it before. Her voice came out as a strangled croak. "T- Tommy?" Supporting herself on the buffet, she visibly sagged against the older female dancer. "I.I couldn't help it, Tommy.I thought."
"Hey, kid, I know." Giving the bewildered Andy and sympathetic smile, Tommy took Blue by the hand and led the younger girl back to her table, drawing her into the booth beside her. Her arm protectively around the younger girl, she continued the conversation as if she'd never stopped.
Jonny beckoned Andy towards the booth he had acquired. Sliding in between Raymond and Antoine, he gave them a wry grin.
"Don't worry about the blue-lady." The only other non-new-cast member gave the brunette a reassuring smile. "She's just got some way bad relationship issues. It's not just you, Andy."
A cigarette packet was thrust under his nose. Shaking his head with a small smile at Malcolm, he said. "Thanks, but no."
"No problem. Mind if I.?" The others shook their head. Malcolm's black- lipped grin widened. As always, his makeup was neat. "Y'know, I'm thinking of changing my name." He pulled his lighter out, the skull design worn under his fingers.
"Changin' your name, hon? Lemme suggest Raymond." Smacking his lips, the massive black dancer winked. "Perfect name, ain't it?"
Ducking his head, half-shy, Malcolm smothered a chuckle. "Actually, I prefer Malcolm Draven. Got a better ring to it." Lighting his cigarette, he inhaled a drag and blew out a smoke ring. "And," He added, as an afterthought. "It's better known than my real name."
"So you steal his make-up and his name?" Tommy's voice rang over Jonny's shoulder, her eyes dancing devilishly. His face stoic, Malcolm flicked his finger up in the tall dancer's direction. "Love you too, booger."
"Anyone else really want to smack her?" Helen Marsden grumbled.
Tommy's eyes turned with interest to her co-actress. "Would that be with or without a paddle, Hel? Or do you prefer barehanded?"
"Don't start, Tommy." Blue groaned quietly, half-shrieking as her roommate pounced at her and planted a firm kiss on her lips. "Ick! Tommy! How many times do I gotta tell you to quit it! No threesomes, ever!"
Tommy smirked. "Spoilsport."
Antoine couldn't smother a laugh, dishing out the drinks that had been delivered carefully to the table. "Here's to tomorrow night, people." Raising his glass, he toasted them all. "To the first night for all of us on a stage full of lunatics!"
"Did we just get insulted?" Georgina demanded with a grin.
"Most probably." Andy laughed, raising his glass. "Good luck to all of you and try not to break too many legs or arms in the process."
"Someone sounds paranoid." Blue flashed a shy smile at the dark-haired actor.
"It's not like I haven't got good reason to be with you lot around." Andy caught Tommy smiling widely at him out of the corner of his eye. Things were going to be okay between them now, he was certain of that. "Here's to tomorrow night."
*
A sleepy head emerged from the duvet covers. "Hmm?" Sitting up, the taller of the two women yawned, pushing her loose hair back from her face as her flatmate bounced down on the bed beside her.
A letter was thrust in front of her face. "I got in! I'm the new Etcetera!" The younger of the two paused, then proffered an envelope to her half-asleep companion. "And it looks like you're in too, Tommy."
"If you're Etcetera...what the hell am I gonna be?" Snatching the letter, she tore it open, pulling the folded sheet of paper out. "Lesse..." Skimming her slightly slanted ebony eyes over the words, a small smile curving her lips up. "I got in too." She folded the letter, replaced it in the envelope and curled back under the duvet.
"And?"
One dark brow rose. "And what?"
Smacking her hands down on her companion's legs with a wail of growing exasperation, there was an un-Tommy-like squeal. "Erm...I didn't realise you still had company, Tommy."
The black-haired woman smirked. "You know Sylvie lives here now." Another sleepy face appeared alongside Tommy's, blue eyes fuzzy with indignation. Tommy pressed a kiss to her lover's lips.
"Sorry, Syl. I thought you were already at work." The youngest of the three gave the blonde a sheepish grin. Groping around on the mattress, she found Tommy's leg and smacked at it. "Tell me!" Putting on her most brattish voice, she whined. "Please?"
Drawing her petite blonde lover's head against her shoulder, the exotic- looking woman smiled broadly. "You're looking at the new Bombalurina."
"Eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeh!" Doing what would have to be her trademarked squeal, the blue-haired girl threw herself at her flatmate, squashing the unfortunate blond between her and the blonde's girlfriend. "Um...sorry, Syl."
The blonde shrugged. "I don't mind...as long as Tommy doesn't mind me having another woman's tits rubbed in my face."
"Horny bitch." Tommy chuckled, her cheek rubbing against the blonde's hair. Looking back to the young dancer she considered more of a sister than her own siblings, she reached up and mussed the girl's blue hair. "You go and practice kid. We're gonna...sleep some more.
"Sure you are." Grinning, the petite dancer skipped out of the room, making a beeline for the phone, after carefully shutting the door behind her.
*
Antoine O'Neil paced across the rehearsal room floor, humming the tune of 'Skimbleshanks' under his breath. He was in his element now, preparing to help in teaching the new arrivals to the cast the ensemble routines.
At last recollection, there were eight new arrivals in the August turnover, five females and three males. Two of them were swing. All the more to teach them. Antoine masked a smile. He hadn't realised how much he missed being an instructor.
Straightening his back, he neatly crossed his ankles, then flopped loosely forward, his hands brushing the smooth floor. Lifting himself back up, he managed to side step to avoid a friendly slap on the rump.
"Dang!"
"Nice to see you too, Andre."
One hand on his heart, the other grasping Antoine's shoulder, Andy sighed, shaking his head in mock consternation. "How many times do I have to tell you? I'm not Andre. I'm not even Andrew half the time."
"Pardon, Andre." The peroxide blonde smothered a grin. "I...uh...'ow you say? Fuggedaboudit."
A skeptical brown brow rose. "You know, sometimes I really doubt that you are French, Antoine. Or dare I say...Tony?"
"Don't you feckin think about it!" The half-French, half-Irish could switch accents with the best of them. Bi-lingual and extremely intelligent, his family supported the theory that he was insane for wanting to dance for a living. His beach-bum look didn't help either.
Andy Greyson grinned widely. One of the longest standing Swings in the current cast, the twenty-four year old had fought long and hard to get into the cast. His abilities were never questioned, but his timing was always atrocious. Every audition he had made it to, a 'big name' had been lined up for the same roles.
So, out of desperation, he had tottered into an audition for a new Grizabella in two-inch heels, a scarlet cocktail dress and with his dark hair loose, only to lose the part when he had belted out the song in an utterly male voice.
Unsurprisingly, the casting agents had remembered him. No matter how they tried, the image of a rough Northern lad in a frock was permanently burned into their collective memories. The sound of his voice as he ignored the order to stop and sang the full version of Memory a capella and perfectly in tune, stuck with them too.
So, next changeover, he had been pulled in as Swing. Not the prime role he had hoped for, but being understudy for five of the main male characters - he told himself - was better than not being in the show.
Plus, he got to play all of the best roles at least once a month. A bit of variety never hurt anyone. Plus it was fun.
"So what's the buzz around here?" He gestured around the room. Several other cast members were around, in particular, those who were remaining in the cast, as well as some eager-looking young new dancers.
Antoine glanced at the list pinned to the wall. "We're still waiting for a few people before we can get started." He explained.
As if on cue, the door crashed inwards, revealing two figures. "Jonny boy!"
The current Mungojerrie, Jonny Nicholas, swung around to face the owner of the voice. A grin quickly lit up his features. "Hey! It's the blue lady!" He and the new arrival met midway across the room, the slightly taller of the two swinging the smaller off their feet.
"Aiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiie!" The blue-haired girl in the dancer's arms shrieked, her feet flailing for a foothold unsuccessfully.
"Lemme guess..." Andy leaned closer to Antoine. "That has to be our new Etcetera."
"Got it in one." His blonde companion agreed, eyeing the girl curiously. She really looked like she would be more comfortable in a punk band. Rows of earrings ran up each ear, a stud glinting at her nose. Pale blue eyes lined with black liner and carefully applied makeup looked massive in her elfin face, lips a deep shade red.
In a tight-cropped top, her toned belly was bared, a ring of fire circling her pierced navel. A pair of cat's eyes peeked out from beneath the back of the shirt. Hacked off denim shorts barely covered her rear, her lean arms and legs bare but for the immense boots on her tiny feet.
"So you finally joined our esteemed ranks, then?" Jonny was now holding the grinning girl at arm's length, looking her up and down. "So who did you kill for privilege?"
She reached out to poke him in the chest. "I'll have you know that I'm a damn good dancer! I could be a better Mungo than you, if I wanted to." She paused, looked down at her body. "And if I was male."
"She tried the double cartwheel the other day." A sultry voice purred from the doorway. "She didn't realise you need two people. It was...rather amusing."
All eyes swung to the glamorous and striking figure in the door. Tall with a smoothly curved figure, the woman had a tint of an oriental look in her features, her eyes dark, hair long, black and wavy silk to her waist.
"Did not!" The blue-haired girl stuck her tongue out, only for Jonny to firmly lick it. "Ew! Jonny! What would your boyfriend say?"
"He would say it served you right for sticking your tongue out." Jonny wrapped his arms around her waist and grinned. "How you doing, Tommy?"
The dark-haired woman shrugged expressively, sashaying into the room as if oblivious to the fact that every pair of eyes was on her. "I have Etcetera living with me and you want to know how I'm doing?" She rolled her eyes and waved dismissively. "Men. Useless."
Strolling over to Antoine and Andy, the taller of the two new arrivals gave them both a dazzling smile. Her every move screamed sex and she knew how to use it to her advantage. "I'm guessing one of you is in charge here."
Andy vaguely managed to point at Antoine. Normally, he didn't look at women who were so overtly sexual, but this one had knocked his socks off. If he had ever imagined Bombalurina as a woman, this was her.
"I'm Thomasina. Most people just call me Tommy." She offered her hand to the older of the two men. He nodded, shook the extended hand politely.
"Antoine." He said.
"Who's the sex-bomb?" The company's Asparagus approached, looking the woman up and down with clear interest.
Glancing at him, lips arching in a smirk, Tommy feigned a breathy voice. "Ooh! A man! Can you take me back to your cave to rut with you, oh powerful manly man?" Her laughter was contagious, her hair swaying as she shook her head. "I need to know what time we finish, so I can have my partner put the dinner on."
"Lucky guy." John Marquez spread his hand on his chest and sighed expressively.
"Um...girl."
"Um...pardon?"
Tommy's grin widened. "My significant other. She's a she. A female. A girl. A non-male...as far as I know anyway." She paused, offered her hand. "I never introduced myself properly, did I? I'm Thomasina, radical feminist and lesbian and hater of all things penis-endowed, which I hope you won't take personally. Bad experiences. Nasty story." She smiled once again. "No offence to any of you delightful chaps though."
"And you're our new sex-kitten, Bomba? Lover of all things male and horny?"
Preening, Tommy nodded. "What can I say? I'm a good actress."
"Melissa!" Antoine waved one of the other women over. "You gotta meet your replacement, darlin'. She's priceless." A willowy brunette made her way across. "Tommy, meet Melissa, our current Bomba and previously a classy Cassandra."
"Two Bomb's together...are you sure that's a good idea?" Melissa gave the dark-haired woman a welcoming smile. "Nice to see they got someone who can walk the walk and talk the talk too."
Tommy shrugged with a pleasant smile. "I try."
On the other side of the room, Jonny had dragged his blue-haired companion over to meet his latest Rumpleteazer. The girl was surprisingly shy, considering the role she played, her cheeks flushing as she took in the punk girl.
"So...what name do you go by now?" Jonny had forgotten to ask that minor detail.
"Just Blue." Arm still around his waist, she grinned. "It's easy enough to remember unless you happen to be colour blind."
Another pair of young men joined the triad, identical grins on identical faces. "So we got us a new Etcetera to torment, huh?" One of the two remarked, his dark brown eyes glinting with mischief. "Does she bite, Jonny?"
"Only if provoked." Grinning at the blue-haired girl, he gestured to the identical young men, both of whom were just over the same height as her. "Blue, meet Will and Nicky Johnson. Don't ask which is which cos no one...not even wardrobe know."
Offering a hand, she couldn't help laughing as the two fought to shake first. "Please tell me they don't play anyone like Munkustrap and Macavity. Seeing those two bitch-slapping each other would be beyond ridiculous."
"One of them is Bill Bailey and the other is Carbucketty." Swatting the two away, the fight developed into a pouncing match, both of the brunettes yelling indignantly and tumbling each other on the floor. "You wouldn't think they were kittens to look at them. They're so mature and dignified, aren't they?"
Blue chuckled, her arm looped through his. "And the big guy?"
"Big guy?" She gestured to a tall, shaven-headed man who was striding towards the tussling brothers purposefully. "Oh! That's Robbie." She arched a brow. "You mean character? He plays Munkustrap."
"Munkustrap?" She echoed, staring at the tough-looking man. Abruptly, he grabbed the twins, sending them both rolling in opposite directions, grinning as they assumed their kitten roles, fawning over him and vying for pats on the head.
"Do those kids ever stay out of character?" An older-looking women drawled. Her ash-blonde hair hung in a tight braid at the base of her neck, her slim face defined and delicate. "Really, they should behave more." She glided forward to meet the new cast girl. "Joely."
Blue nodded. "I'm Blue." She shook the extended hand with a grin. "You have to be Cassandra...you've got the moves for it..."
Joely shrugged modestly. "One of those little perks of being made of rubber." She smiled.
"What's made of rubber?"
"Um...nothing, Tommy." Blue grinned sweetly at her roommate. Dropping onto the floor, she stretched her slim body, until her chin was resting just above her knees, her hands wrapped around her ankles. "When do we get started?"
Antoine and Andy crossed the room. "As soon as our new Mistoffelees shows face."
"Anyone I know?" Blue glanced up at them, then to Tommy, who was stretching along a wall bar. "Tom?"
The older dancer shrugged. "I don't know every dancer in the city, kid." Lifting her leg parallel with her body, she pulled a face at her younger friend. "Most of them, yes, but not all of them."
"What's his name?"
Antoine grinned, the other dancers spread around the room already engaged in their warm-ups. "Malcolm Donovan."
Abruptly, Tommy looked away from Blue, staring fixedly at a spot on the mirror. The younger of the two crooked a brow and laughed out loud. "So, Tommy," She drawled conversationally. "Malcolm Donovan.heard of him?"
Jerking her foot off the bar and deliberately catching her roommate across the head, she shot a mock-glare at the indignant blue-haired girl. "Well, yeah. And he's not the guy I woulda cast as Misto."
"How so?"
A shadowy figure drifting into the room answered Andy's question. Shrouded in a trailing, black leather jacket, with hands thrust deep into the pockets, his face was slowly lifted, pale eyes etched in black.
"Oh. My. God!" Blue back-flipped onto her feet, gaping at the new arrival. "You're telling me this is Misto? As in the magic kitty?"
The young man nodded. "That I am."
"Dude!" Raising her hand, she gave the startled dancer a high five. "You have the coolest hair, man!"
Self-consciously raising his hand to the black- and red-streaked mane that hung around his shoulders, he half-grinned. "Yours isn't too bad, either." He nodded towards her vivid peacock blue spikes.
"Mal, nice to see you again." Tommy nodded a polite greeting, pulling Blue back from him by the back of her shorts. "Lemme guess.you went for the magic kitty so you could use your own make-up, huh?"
He spread his hands in a miniscule shrug. "I'm under strict orders to follow the given patterns." He admitted with a threat of a smile, slipping his trench coat from his shoulders and tossing it onto the growing pile of bags in the corner.
In spite of his ominous appearance, his loose sweat pants and T-shirt that had been concealed by the trench seemed to make him fit in with the rest of the group now. He bent and pulled his huge boots off to reveal well- used dance shoes. Pulling his hair back into a tight ponytail, he clapped his hands together and nodded. "Are we ready?"
"You know," Andy murmured, half to himself. "The only time I saw such a dramatic change before, I swear the guy was called Clark Kent."
A high-pitched giggle from Blue immediately pulled all attention away from the gothic Mistoffelees, the punk girl hastily slapping her hand over her mouth to stifle another demented giggle fit.
"Are you laughing at me?" Andy took a step towards the girl, who was at least a foot and a half shorter than him, his hands on his hips. "I mean, if you are laughing at me, I'll not be.amused." With each word he had bent closer and closer to her, trying to fight the urge to grin.
Leaning back in time with his bending forward until she was practically bent double, she blinked up at him, eyes full of innocence. "Me? Laugh?" Shaking her head, she choked on a giggle. "Nope! No, sir! Not me! I'd never laugh at you!"
"Um.Andy, leave the kitten alone." Antoine suggested, his lips twitching with the threat of a smile. The actor sighed, glanced back down at his 'victim', who nodded in agreement with her peroxide saviour.
"S'right! You heard! Leave me 'lone! You.you.big bully!" Balanced on her hands and feet, she shuffled away from him, still bent over, until she had space to flip her feet over and land neatly on them, straightening to her full four feet, eleven inches. "I," She prodded him firmly on the chest, barely reaching his sternum, "Ain't afraid of you!"
Clearing his throat, Antoine waved the grinning rivals apart. "I think its about time we got started, people." He suggested. "We've got a long day of rehearsal ahead and I suggest we should get it underway before lunchtime."
Rubbing her head across Andy's chest, Blue did a merry cartwheel. "Okie! Let's go, everyone! Let's dance our tushies off!"
"Is she always so.?" Antoine furtively shot a questioning look at Tommy.
The dark woman nodded, suppressing a small smile. "Always." She replied, as the younger girl started bouncing on the spot.
*
Leaning against the tall mirrors, Jonny and Antoine watched their latest Etcetera watch her feet carefully as she slowed down the tap routine, then gradually built up her pace, eyes never rising from her feet.
Ad libbing as she went, she swept rapidly into a routine more familiar to the Rocky Horror Show, spinning her way dizzyingly across the smooth floor.
"When Tommy said she was always like that." Antoine trailed off helplessly, shaking his head in disbelief. "I didn't believe her."
Jonny chuckled. "My friend," He drawled, smiling. "You have finally met the living incarnation of Etcetera." He took a swig from his water bottle and swilled it in his dry mouth. "She's worked far harder than this before."
Spinning to a halt beside the two men, Blue grinned and shakily steadied herself against Jonny. "Who has?"
Jonny gave the petite girl an affection hug, as she dug into one of her pockets and withdrew a paper bag of jelly babies with a delighted squeal. "You, ugly. What was it? Six hour-long shows a day, six days a week?"
Viciously biting the head off a red baby, she shrugged. "Something like that." Popping the other half of the mutilated jelly baby into her mouth, she winked. "Most of them were private performances though. You'd be amazed what people would pay to see."
"How did you manage to stay on your feet for all of them?" Antoine inquired weakly, accepting a proffered sweet. "I'm exhausted after the two shows on matinee days. I can't imagine dancing for another two hours on top of them."
Dropping onto her rear, Blue steered her legs into the splits and stretched to touch each foot in turn. "Stamina, I guess." She replied. "And the thought of being able to buy enough shelter and food to see me through the next day." She paused, rolling onto her feet again. "Plus, an endless supply of jelly babies."
"Jelly babies?"
She nodded, tossing one up in the air, aiming to catch it in her mouth and yelping in surprise as it bounced off her nose and skittered away across the floor. "Energy bursts, plus sugar highs all rolled into one yummy little bundle."
"Sweeties!" All three swung round to see the grinning face of 'Etcetera's' sidekick, Electra. Another of the new cast members, Georgina was a level of craziness that almost matched the blue-haired, sweet- supplied dancer. "Gimme!" Grabbing the paper bag, she darted off across the room, closely followed by the shrieking Blue.
Malcolm and Tommy, who were just returning from their cigarette break with several of the other cast members, just avoided being knocked over backwards, as first Georgina, then Blue dived between their feet.
Nicky and Will Jonson were quick to join the fray. "Wassin the bag? Huh? Huh?"
"She got my sweeties!" Blue mournfully pouted, shrieking all the louder as one of the Jonson twins pinned her and the other went after the bag. "No fair! Leccie! Leccie! Help! They wanna steal my sweets!"
Slipping easily into character, the older 'cats' tutted in disapproval at the kittenish antics, waiting for the firm hand of Munkustrap to come into play.
He, of course, was the last person to enter the room, to be greeted by the bizarre sight of Blue sitting on top of one of the Jonsons. A paper bag was gripped firmly in her mouth, her hands dancing on the howling boy's stomach.
Barely a foot away, the other Jonson and Georgina were tussling, trying to snatch the bag from the other girl unsuccessfully.
"Nooooooooooooow!"
Abruptly, all four froze. One hand hanging inches above her victim's chest, both Blue and whichever Jonson it was raised innocent eyes to Robbie. Georgina and the other twin rolled apart and did the same.
Blinking owlishly, Blue cracked into a wide grin as Robbie's stern expression melted away as he started to chuckle. Bouncing off the dancer beneath her, she trotted over and offered the bag of babies. "Want one?"
"Why can't you lot ever behave?" A somewhat aggravated voice sighed. "Rehearsals are meant to be taken seriously, not clowned around in."
"Whoa." Georgina muttered, looking at her broad-strapped watch. "She took longer than usual to be her usual bitchy self. I wonder if she's feeling okay."
Both Jonsons sniggered and the other cast members near enough to hear what the girl had said, cleared their throats and smothered wry grins. No matter how much they toed the line, nothing was ever good enough for Kashka Henderson.
Unbeknownst to her, the actress-cum-singer-dancer was developing a reputation. On top of that, it was known to the more light-hearted cast members that Andy Greyson could do a wicked impression of her.
"They're just trying out their characters." Benjamin tried to smooth the woman's ruffled feathers. "No harm in that, is there?"
Crossing her arms over her chest, Kashka gave a huff of indignation, which Andy made a mental note to add to his repetoire. "I just wants things to go right, but how can they, when the newbies won't behave and rehearse like they're meant to?"
"These newbies." Robbie gestured to them in the group, some of who were following the saga, others who were stretching and re-warming up on the barre. "Have got their routines as well as you did, after less than a fortnight of rehearsal."
Reluctantly relinquishing the argument, Kashka pulled her sweater off and moved to a vacant spot on the barre to stretch. "Well, shall we get on with the rehearsal then?" She demanded snippily.
Glancing over at the rehearsal pianist, Antoine nodded. "We're working some more on the ball today. We've still got some rough edges to smooth there."
*
"Having fun?" Malcolm lifted his eyes from the mirror to find his fellow black- and white cat grinning down at him, barely recognisable in the carefully applied Alonzo make-up.
He shrugged expressively. "I'm not used to doing black lines sideways. Normally, I have then going up and down over my eyes." He stared back at the mirror dolefully. "Do my brows look okay?"
"Honey," Raymond winked at him. "You gotta tweeze more often, but on the painting side, you got ten outta ten."
Half-grinning at the taller dancer, Malcolm shook his head and carefully added his cat nose. Years of applying delicate eye-make-up had blessed him with an exceptionally steady painting hand.
"Anyone told you that you're crazy recently?"
Swinging around the mirror and dropping onto the spare stool beside the young dancer, Raymond grinned again, eyes glinting devilishly, his almost- afro hair standing on and end and completely at odds with his painted face.
"They don't tell me nothin' else around here." He glanced down at himself, swinging his tail into his blue jean-clad lap. "Gotta love the life when you can dress as a big pussy for a livin'."
Malcolm couldn't help chuckling softly, although he knew it went completely against his nature. He didn't chuckle. At least, not in front of anyone else, but the big, brash and completely barmy American.
Raymond had been one of the actors who had both toured in America, played in CATS on Broadway, briefly spent some time in the Hamburg cast, before making his way over to join the London litter.
"Why've you still got your make-up on? I thought it was a practise run today, to see how well we could manage."
Leaning closer to the younger man, Raymond grabbed a brush to tidy up the thin black whiskers that lined the other man's cheeks. Smirking, he drawled. "This comin' from the dude who wears make-up twenty-four-seven?"
"You know what I mean." Malcolm glanced back to the mirror, pleased with the result of his first attempt at the un-Crow-like Mistoffelees make-up. "We haven't even got our costumes yet."
Raymond swung off the seat, his tail slapping against Malcolm's ribs. "Oops!" He grinned cheerfully. "I'm wearin' my face cos it looks so damn cute on me." He paused, pursed his lips. "You still comin' to eat with the new guys and Andy and Tony?"
"Wouldn't miss it." Re-applying his nose, he gave his trade-marked half- grin to the massive actor, who nodded.
"See ya, short-stuff." Disappearing out of the dressing room, Raymond's words carried back to him as he greeted the other cast members in their dressing areas, his voice not entirely too different to the man who had voiced Darth Vader.
What had his name been again?
Shrugging, Malcolm turned back to the mirror, wiggled his nose twice. Even if they couldn't pin-point the subtle nuances he'd made to the make- up, there was no way the management would miss the fact that Mistoffelees was one-hundred percent a gothic cat.
*
"I liked my Griz make-up!"
"Ladies, please."
"I'm Griz though, not you." Helen Marsden stuck her tongue out at Tommy in a purely mature fashion. The dark-haired woman raised her manicured, scarlet nails to her 'rival' in mock threat.
"Don't make me use these on you, babe." She warned, keeping a straight face remarkably well in spite of Georgina and Blue's barely smothered giggles. "I got 'em. Trained with 'em. Black belt in bitch fights."
"I can't believe I'm seein' this."
Andy grinned at Antoine. "And you though the fresh ones would be less crazy than our old kids?" He wriggled his way between the new Bombalurina and Grizabella, gently steering Tommy's claws away from his face. "Dinner first, then showdown at twenty paces, all right? I want to enjoy the entertainment on a full stomach."
Gracefully accepting the teasing caution, the two women looped arms, pulled a face at the young man and sauntered off in the direction of the restaurant that had been booked for the occasion.
Holding the door open for the stragglers, Andy was the last in line at the buffet and found himself standing behind the solitary Blue, who was piling her plate with all manner of odd salads and vegetables.
"Alone at last, eh, Blue?" He grinned at her, his one vivid green and one dark brown eye glinting mischievously. He splatted some kind of supposedly- healthy food onto his plate and waited for the witty retort that he had grown accustomed to.
Her eyes seemed fixed uneasily on her plate. Shuffling from one foot to another, she shrugged stiffly. "Seems so."
"What's up with you?" He gave her a playful nudge. "You're not usually little Miss shy-and-silent."
Pulling away sharply, Blue back-stepped hastily. "I'm not allowed to be quiet, huh? I have to be bloody happy all the time?"
Holding up his hands in submission, Andy hastily took a pacifying step back. "Easy, shorty. Easy! I don't bite!" He gave her a weak grin, spreading his hands. "But apparently you do, little one."
"Wh-what did you call me?" The plate slipped from her hands, as she took another step backwards. The disc of white china seemed to fall in slow motion, shattering deafeningly on the smooth floor.
"Kid?"
Blue's pale eyes snapped towards her roommate, her face paler than Andy could recall seeing it before. Her voice came out as a strangled croak. "T- Tommy?" Supporting herself on the buffet, she visibly sagged against the older female dancer. "I.I couldn't help it, Tommy.I thought."
"Hey, kid, I know." Giving the bewildered Andy and sympathetic smile, Tommy took Blue by the hand and led the younger girl back to her table, drawing her into the booth beside her. Her arm protectively around the younger girl, she continued the conversation as if she'd never stopped.
Jonny beckoned Andy towards the booth he had acquired. Sliding in between Raymond and Antoine, he gave them a wry grin.
"Don't worry about the blue-lady." The only other non-new-cast member gave the brunette a reassuring smile. "She's just got some way bad relationship issues. It's not just you, Andy."
A cigarette packet was thrust under his nose. Shaking his head with a small smile at Malcolm, he said. "Thanks, but no."
"No problem. Mind if I.?" The others shook their head. Malcolm's black- lipped grin widened. As always, his makeup was neat. "Y'know, I'm thinking of changing my name." He pulled his lighter out, the skull design worn under his fingers.
"Changin' your name, hon? Lemme suggest Raymond." Smacking his lips, the massive black dancer winked. "Perfect name, ain't it?"
Ducking his head, half-shy, Malcolm smothered a chuckle. "Actually, I prefer Malcolm Draven. Got a better ring to it." Lighting his cigarette, he inhaled a drag and blew out a smoke ring. "And," He added, as an afterthought. "It's better known than my real name."
"So you steal his make-up and his name?" Tommy's voice rang over Jonny's shoulder, her eyes dancing devilishly. His face stoic, Malcolm flicked his finger up in the tall dancer's direction. "Love you too, booger."
"Anyone else really want to smack her?" Helen Marsden grumbled.
Tommy's eyes turned with interest to her co-actress. "Would that be with or without a paddle, Hel? Or do you prefer barehanded?"
"Don't start, Tommy." Blue groaned quietly, half-shrieking as her roommate pounced at her and planted a firm kiss on her lips. "Ick! Tommy! How many times do I gotta tell you to quit it! No threesomes, ever!"
Tommy smirked. "Spoilsport."
Antoine couldn't smother a laugh, dishing out the drinks that had been delivered carefully to the table. "Here's to tomorrow night, people." Raising his glass, he toasted them all. "To the first night for all of us on a stage full of lunatics!"
"Did we just get insulted?" Georgina demanded with a grin.
"Most probably." Andy laughed, raising his glass. "Good luck to all of you and try not to break too many legs or arms in the process."
"Someone sounds paranoid." Blue flashed a shy smile at the dark-haired actor.
"It's not like I haven't got good reason to be with you lot around." Andy caught Tommy smiling widely at him out of the corner of his eye. Things were going to be okay between them now, he was certain of that. "Here's to tomorrow night."
*