News, Dreams, and Bitterness
It was like a punch in the face. Straight out of nowhere, she got hit by the news; completely off guard; no time for preparation. She didn't expect it. It came out of the blue.
Suddenly, it was there.
Big time.
She couldn't do anything to prevent it from happening. No time to dug. No time to fight back. There was no opportunity to prepare for this. It was like getting stabbed in the back.
Recovery would take longer. The wounds were bad, even though not her body was damaged, but her pride and she as a person. Getting over it would be hard, and would leave her bitter all summer, probably half of fall too.
For years, she had begged for something like this to happen; not for the punch in the face, but the news. They were good. It was something she had longed for. She had talked about it for ages, year after year, at every possible occasion for decades now. She had organized similar events, smaller of course. Without help, nothing big was possible, but the events were still big enough.
But a real big event, yes, that would be a dream.
Her ultimate dream.
She had achieved a lot in her life, seen a lot, and met a lot of people. There was not much left in the industry that she had not done before. She had done everything else, except that one thing.
And this one thing on her bucket list was done in her very own town but without her help. Without the need of her input, behind her back, not even thinking of her.
Not once.
She was destined to be part of this. Her name was written all over it. Her name had to be on it, but it was decided otherwise, done without her.
It left her bitter.
Very bitter.
So bitter that she decided to leave town for this. She had to. Otherwise, she thought she would be going crazy, having that thing of her dreams around her all summer long. Even with being out of town, she would be going crazy, thinking about what was going on in her hometown But actually seeing it? No way, that was not going to happen.
She had her spies though. Her best friend was part of it. At first, only to spy for her and give her all the details, but at some point even her best friend betrayed her. She said it was good. So good. She loved it.
"I tell ya it's a hit," the best friend said.
"A hit?" She was stunned to hear that word with the thing she hated, which her best friend was supposed to hate too. But her best friend betrayed her, just like that.
"A smashing hit," her friend insisted. "You should see it. I've never seen a better dancing number than this. The acting is on point and the song. Ah, the lyrics. And don't get me started on the actress. She was in 'Kinky Boots'. Can you imagine, in 'Kinky Boots'?"
Her best friend had gone tot he dark side, no help at all. She was even wearing a stupid t-shirt to support all of this.
She hardly picked up when her best friend called this summer. There was no need to hear about the thing she could have loved. She couldn't listen to her best friend's voice raving about the thing she was destined to be part of. She couldn't listen to it becoming a hit when it was supposed to fail.
Fail badly.
She prayed for. She had not prayed in a while, but she hoped it would be the town's biggest flop; even bigger than the stupid town museum all those years ago. She needed it to be a flop. She needed the town to come running to her and begging her to rescue them.
But that call never came.
All sorts of calls reached her though. Her best friend ever so often, but she always came up with an excuse to end that call earlier or not pick up at all. There were calls from the town's weirdo asking her over and over again when she would be back, so he could arrange a big project he was working on. It was that stupid man who didn't consider her in the first place, but always harassed her about stuff.
Little, unnecessary stuff.
It was stuff he could have done easily by himself. He was telling her the floor in her studio needed to be replaced since it was not up to date anymore. The floor was a risk for his great performers.
She couldn't care less about that. She rolled her eyes, tapped her fingers against a glass of punch and sighed, sighed so deeply that the person on the other line thought she fell asleep. She snapped at the person. She snapped and came up with nasty comments. And suddenly she was the bad one, the one who couldn't answer easy questions.
For a moment, she felt guilty, but then it faded away. It faded into the punch she was drinking and the wide ocean she was looking at. She would not rather be anywhere else than here, looking at the beach while holding onto the alcohol. Loud music blasting through the air, and she swayed back and forth.
This was what retirement must feel like.
Maybe it was time. She had done it so long.
For so long she had been the one keeping the culture up in town, always adding something new, always entertaining and giving to the community. But not anymore. Someone else has taken over.
Maybe, this was it. The end of an era.
The end of the business we called show.
Maybe, she had overstayed her welcome. She had been in the town long enough, doing what she loved doing long enough. So it could be.
Maybe.
She was not sure. There was still something inside her, which longed for her dancing and singing. It was part of her; music had dictated her life so often. It told her where to go and what to do.
I was music, which told her to leave town for the summer. It was for her own sake, her own sanity. Being in town right with the production she was not part of did not do any good to her.
It ruined her and wrecked her nerves.
Even the doctors said she should distress because her body could not handle stress well after the big weight loss. She had to look out for herself, even if it meant letting her biggest dream getting turned into reality without her.
When she first learned about it she had sought the one person, who was in charge of everything and she knew that person would be in charge again too. That proud smile when she had approached him about it. So smug.
Too smug for her taste.
"Yes, you've heard right, there will be a musical. And I can give that away already, the lyrics are all written by myself because let's face it I know this town best. I capture the spirit best. I think the world has lost another Mark Twain or Hemingway with me approaching a career as town selectman and entrepreneur, but I will finally give it a try."
He was so proud of himself. So full of himself for coming up with something like this all by himself. He was like a peacock, parading around town, and for the first time in her life, she couldn't take it.
There was a fall-out, a short one, loud words were exchanged. Not too harsh, but she demanded to know why she had not heard about this earlier, but he insisted he only managed to get a real composer on board recently.
She believed him.
She had to. If she wanted to be involved in this she had to be on good terms with the man in charge. There was no other way.
Go with the flow, which was dictated by the man, who wore his woolen vests even in the summer.
In the beginning, she was onboard with the project, not against it. That was because she thought she would be asked for help.
It was not the kind of help she expected though. She was asked to help with registration, and she definitely enjoyed to look at the young men, all hot, and muscular. Way better than the diner owner's butt, but she would never tell anyone.
She liked the registration, and she thought she would be asked about her opinion, since she has seen them all, but not once was there a consideration of her opinion.
Not once.
She tried talking to them, but they would not listen. They would not consider her. She was locked out of the process, and it hurt.
They were sitting there on her premises, creating something big, something she had wanted to do all her life, and she was locked outside.
She stood right outside of her own building; her own talent was not needed, but she was the most experienced of them all. She was meant to sit in the first row.
It was meant to be her thing.
After all, it was a musical. A musical was her thing. Casting and rehearsals were held on her premises, yet she was locked out. A musical without the reigning queen of show business in this town seemed like an oxymoron, it went against everything sane. It was not logic.
Not at all.
Since she was locked out of the process, she locked herself up in her house. What was there for her to do anyway?
There were no classes to be held in summer and the heat was thick and heavy in town, while in her house there was air conditioning. There was no need to get out, other than buying some groceries, but she would refuse to go to the store in town. She couldn't take seeing him again.
He, who caused this dreadful situation. Oh, she loathed him.
She really did; she was a passionate person after all, especially when it concerned her one true love. The one thing she wanted still to do.
So, she left town. It was the only wise decision. The only way to keep her sane, to keep her from getting her hopes up whenever she saw a glimpse of the thing, which could have been her last big dream.
It was fairly easy to stay away. The alcohol and the ocean were a good company. The heavy music was a help too.
The weeks passed. Slowly, at first, they were filled with phone calls, but eventually, those died down too.
It was peaceful, and when she was totally relaxed and found her peace with the situation at home she came back.
Once back, she quickly understood that she was not over it. The musical was all over the place and seeing it was triggering something inside her.
Posters were hanging in town. People were talking about it and applauding the producers and the actors. They praised the catchy tunes, which they were still humming under the shower and while walking on the streets. The musical was everywhere spread around town.
Still, even weeks after the production.
She hated hearing about it. She despised that everywhere lingered the positive vibe for the production of her personal nightmare. It was getting the praise it didn't deserve. She craved for some negative input.
And there it was.
Small, but it was there.
Only one person was not fond of it and she sought her immediately after she learned about it.
It was her chance of hope, to find someone, who was just as snarky about it as she was. She needed someone to share the hate with.
"So, tell me. How was it? I've heard you didn't like it?" She said to the one person in town, who was not smitten with the local production.
"Oh, you know, it wasn't that bad," the woman waved it off.
"Really?" She was stunned with the answer; she had heard quite the contrary. This person was supposed to hate it, rage about it even. After the first rehearsal, she had criticized every bit of it, while the others were loving it, praising it.
"I mean, it was bad, and the choreography was awful at times, and the lyrics quite questionable. And too much ABBA out of context. It was big mix-up if you ask me."
"I see." Her voice fell flat. Even though she heard a real critical statement she missed the passion behind it. She thought she could finally talk to someone about it for real, but she was wrong after all.
Oh, so wrong.
Especially, when the person carried on, "They added a really lovely song, which made the lead actress shine. I had goosebumps all over."
"Huh."
There was not much to say. She couldn't take listening to another person enjoying the musical. She had to listen to that kind of people plenty.
But no more.
"Yeah, I couldn't believe it myself." There was actually a smile on the person's lips, and if there was nothing she didn't want to see when talking about her biggest nightmare then it was a smile when thinking of it.
She came up with a lazy excuse to end the conversation, fleeing from the positive view on the musical, which she felt so much reluctance toward. She wanted to get very far from it
So far humanly possible in a small town like this.
She got to her studio and usually it would grant her a peaceful time there, but not with what had happened there. All of the rehearsals had taken place there. Even some of the props were still standing there.
She wished she could be at the seaside again, far away from this place where even the newspaper was biased and talked about what a great hit the event was. Which was such a lie.
Such a big fat straight lie.
If she ever got the chance to do a thing like this too, she would show the town how a big hit would look like. These philistine people from the countryside, who had no taste in culture and arts even if they would be standing right in front of a masterpiece.
She was indeed so bitter, even the sweet punch she poured herself didn't help with that.
Only time could heal her wounds. Slowly. A painful path was ahead of her. After all, it was her dream.
Her last big dream, which got stolen from her.
She got cheated out of it, cheaply.
It hurt, still even after the musical was long over. She was not sure she would ever not feel bitter about it.
Maybe, bitterness was part of her now.
THE END
I hope you enjoyed this story centered around Miss Patty and the Stars Hollow musical, regardless of what you think of the musical. It bothered me that she was not part of the musical. This is my interpretation of the events. Hopefully, you liked the writing style too. It's something new and different for me, but I think it should be understandable. Also, writing is there to try something new and I definitely had a blast writing that one. Hope to see you for another story soon, but for now, my back-ups are used up. xxx