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Ash opens her eyes, but her vision is useless. A blurry film has settled over her eyes, as if she's looking through a pair of grimy old glasses.
The next feeling that hits her is the throbbing pain in her head. It's like someone swung a bag of bricks onto her forehead, or slammed two hammers against her temples.
She would groan, but then it would wake the slumbering porcupine next to her. The noise she'd rather make is a disgusted whimper or horrified scream, but her throat is too dry to produce a noise anyway.
Various swear words, laced with regret and irritation, bounce around her mind as she pulls herself to her feet. She and Lance were both sharing a ratty towel and the equally ratty bathmat, but now she is eager to distance herself from him. She snatches up the blue dress and leather jacket from last night and yanks them back on, gritting her teeth when the fabric snags on her quills in her haste.
Next she twists on the squeaky faucet and opens her mouth under the refreshing stream of water, ignoring the distinct metallic taste in the tap. Once her parched tongue is satisfied, her voice is finally back. And the first thing out of her mouth—
"… fuck." She spares another glance back over to Lance, still conked out on the floor. She takes a few seconds, then she can't look at him anymore.
Ash tiptoes out of the bathroom and down the hallway, thankful for the cushiony, sound-absorbing carpet. To her immense shock and relief, Meena is passed out at the top of the stairs.
Heart soaring, Ash leans down slightly and shakes her friend awake. "Meena! C'mon, Meen, wake up," she whispers desperately.
Meena stirs, then squeaks as her eyes fly open. She lifts one of her large feet and props her forehead on it. "Ash…?" Her blue gaze focuses on the porcupine, and it takes mere seconds for her face to widen out of terror. "Oh god, Ash, w- what happened last night?"
"You're asking me," Ash scoffs. "Dude, we need to leave. Like, right now."
Luckily Meena doesn't waste time scrambling to a shaky standing position. She smooths out her wrinkled dress and lets out a dry sob. "My mom is gonna kill me…! And my granddad, oh god…"
"Can we please just get out of here?" Ash clings onto one of Meena's toes— since holding her entire hand would be out of the question— and drags her friend the rest of the way downstairs.
The two of them had walked to the party together last night, and now Ash wishes they hadn't. Actually, there's several things about last night she wishes she could change. Perhaps first on her agenda would be to not go to the freaking party in the first place. Next would be don't sleep with Lance, you idiot.
The sun has never seemed so bright before. Ash digs through her bag and pulls out an old pair of sunglasses. Gratefully she throws the shades on, starting to regain her composure a bit as she adopts a calm strut down the sidewalk.
Meena is still fretting, but at least she has her large ears to protect her from the glaring sunlight. She's rubbing her exposed shoulders, whimpering about how dead she is, how her curfew was supposed to be at eleven p.m. Normally Ash is fine with Meena's nervous rants, but at the moment the tiniest of sounds creates another marble of pain to roll around her skull.
"Meena… please," Ash says. "Could you just… pipe down for a sec?"
"Y- yeah. Sorry."
The girls walk on in silence, cringing at every beep of a car horn or whine of a shop door being opened. They reach the train station in record time considering their dazed state. Ash feels like she's stepped into a time machine dated six months ago. The early morning bustle of people, grumbling into their cellphones about how much they despise Monday mornings. The rustle of discarded newspapers and food wrappers on the platform floor, blowing by like tumbleweeds in a desert. So many times Ash stood in this very spot with Lance, who had a car for most of their relationship yet still insisted on taking the trains for reasons still unknown to the heavens above. Needless to say, Meena is a far more preferable companion to have than him.
The young elephant doesn't speak again until they've boarded the train and collapsed into a couple of hard plastic seats. They're bound for the Downtown area, nearby where Meena's neighborhood is.
"Really, though, Ash… what did happen last night?"
Ash massages her temples, nudging the shades further up her nose and sighing. "We drank too much, I guess. Last night is Exhibit A of why minors shouldn't have booze."
Meena leans back against the window and groans for the fiftieth time this morning. "I'm never having alcohol again."
Behind the glasses, Ash's eyes roll in amusement. "Well, I can't say the same, but… I'll definitely never accept 'jungle juice' from Mike again."
"Agreed."
Silence. Then "Ash, was that Lance I saw you with or am I crazy?"
A stone of dread drops into the porcupine's belly. "Uh, no. You must be crazy—"
"'Cause I could've sworn that's the same guy in the ripped-up photo you showed me—"
"Meen. You were drunk. I was drunk. It's done and over with now," Ash says.
The train begins to slow down, its brakes screeching against the metal tracks. Ash squints through her shades and recognizes the blurred features of the Downtown station through the windows.
"Then who did you sleep with last night?" Meena pries.
The stone in Ash's empty belly expands. She gulps. Meena has always been curious, but she's never dived this far into someone else's beeswax. "I didn't—"
"Ash." Meena places a heavy hand on her friend's shoulder, causing the smaller animal to wince at the sudden weight. "Don't lie to me. You came from the upstairs hallway to wake me up, right? Anyone who was upstairs last night definitely— well, y'know what I mean—"
"Fine! God. It was just some guy, I think his name was Chad or something," Ash growls.
The tiniest of snorts escapes through Meena's trunk. "Chad? You went to bed with a guy named Chad?"
"Oh, shut up," Ash says, giving her a light shove as the train comes to a complete stop. The doors slide open, signaling Meena's departure.
"Well, this is my cue," Meena says with a frown. She stands, smoothing her dress again, and chuckles nervously. "Wish me luck, girlfriend. And happy nineteenth! I'll bring in a cake to our next rehearsal."
Ash fiddles with the dusty shades. "Good luck, Meen. And that'd be amazing. You know what I like, chocolate with—"
"… with strawberry frosting," Meena finishes for her. "Don't worry, I won't forget your weird taste."
"It's not weird, it's delicious!" Ash calls after her friend as she exits the train.
Once Meena and all the Downtown passengers clear out, the train lurches forward again and Ash settles back, knowing the route to the next stop is longer. She leans on the glass window, and considers popping in some earbuds. Then a fresh wave of pain slices through her skull, and she wisely decides not to listen to rock music at the moment.
When the train finally reaches her station, Ash is nearly trampled by dozens of other passengers struggling to get out the narrow sliding doors. Annoyed, Ash puffs out her quills slightly and grins as others shy away from her. They clear a decent path for her through the throng of briefcases and business suits.
There's no rehearsal today, since the finishing touches are still being put on the new Moon Theater. Buster promised them that as soon as he, Eddie and Ms. Crawly return from out of town, rehearsals for the next show will begin immediately. A crooked smile perches on Ash's face at the thought of returning to her old routine. Rosita and Gunter practicing elaborate dance moves, Mike crooning into a microphone to his girlfriend, Meena's beautiful voice leaking through the "soundproof" glass of her practice room, Johnny tapping away at the keys of Ms. Crawly's old piano, which had been restored since the flood.
As soon the image of Johnny flashes through Ash's aching mind, a jolt of panic startles her entire body.
"Shit," she mutters. Bits and pieces of last night are returning to her, like chunks from the film reel of a horror movie.
Johnny walked in on her and Lance.
Johnny saw them. Johnny saw her— with— oh god. Oh no.
And then her heart is pounding just like her head, and she breaks into a clumsy run down the street. She'd almost always taken the train to work, but it wasn't that far of a walk from her apartment either. So instead of turning left out of the station, she goes right and hopes to the gods that's where he'll be.
Animals leap out of the way for the stressed porcupine breezing past. Ash doesn't know whether or not her quills are inadvertently flying out, but she honestly doesn't care if they are. If it means it'll get her there faster, then so be it.
She's breathless and feeling sick as ever when she arrives in front of 551 Echo Drive. It's hard to believe how far the theater has come from being a mess of an empty lot, to a makeshift stage, to being restored to its grand magnificence. Any trace of rubble from the disaster has been cleared out, along with puddles of water still left from all those burst squid tanks. Buster asked that the builders hired by Nana Noodleman try to use as many pieces of the old theater as possible. Unfortunately, there wasn't much of anything salvageable, though the construction workers did manage to uncover some red velvet seats not busted under chunks of cement. The seats were professionally cleaned and put together as part of a "VIP" section in the front row of the new theater.
Buster trusted all his employees— none of whom would leave him despite multiple record deal offers— so he gave everyone a key into the place. Ash glanced up at the empty water tanks high above as she entered the sleek new lobby. Buster plans to put squids in those tanks, though she isn't quite sure how he'd managed to convince those guys to come back after being washed down a storm drain. On second thought, maybe he's recruited completely new squids.
Ash stops thinking to herself and rushes into the auditorium. A thrill courses through her blood as her eyes lift to the beautiful and intricate ceiling. Her feet, still in the stupid flats from last night, tread silently along the red carpeted aisle between seats.
Everything is silent in the cavernous room, but Ash hears a faint noise coming from backstage. She walks lightly up the stairs to the stage, then makes a U-turn to go past all of the stagehand equipment to the rehearsal rooms.
Sure enough, Johnny is sitting in his room. She sees him through the clear panes of glass, hunched over a piano and mumbling out the lyrics to an unintelligible song. She's never seen him so… dejected. Her heart jumps into her throat as she knocks gently on the door.
The muffled trill slows to a halt, as his fingers freeze over the piano keys. He doesn't make a move to open the door, so Ash tries using words.
"Johnny? It's me… Ash…" She feels like she's leaving him a message on his answering machine. The brazen part of her wants to demand for him to open the damn door already, to look her in the eyes, to just turn around at all. But she knows how it feels to be in an unpleasant mood. It's the kind of feeling where you just want the entire world to leave you alone for a while. Jeez, not even singing on stage could fix Ash when she was heartbroken. But why is Johnny so upset about last night? Did seeing her half naked really get to him that much?
And then he replies. "I'm busy 'ight now."
She stares at his back through the glass, desperately willing for him to show his face. "Aw, come on. Don't you wanna… talk or something?" She presses her hands hard against the pane and wonders if it would break if she pushed hard enough.
He gives her a very Mike-esque reply. "Go take a hike, Spikes." Hearing him say that name is like shoving a dull blade into her vocal cords. Words fail her. In the place of a mournful apology, anger rises.
"Fine, then. Screw you too, Bigfoot," she says, raising her voice to ensure the insult makes it through the glass. Then she spins around and storms out of the theater.
oo0oo
Just as Buster told them, rehearsals begin a week later. Johnny is up bright and early and is the first one to show up at the theater.
He still lives in his father's crummy garage, mostly due to the guilt he would have if he were to sell it while his dad is still in prison. He has enough guilt weighing him down as it is, knowing it's all his fault his dad is in jail in the first place. He's forgiven Johnny since then, but Johnny hasn't forgiven himself.
The garage is a lonely place when Johnny's on his own. It used to be filled with uproarious laughter while the gang played poker and gambled. Other days there would be tense silence, silence that spoke volumes, as they planned their next raid on the shipments coming into port. Now those days are long gone.
Johnny has considered inviting the theater family over for dinner or something one day, but he doesn't even know how to begin cleaning the place. The excuse "oh, just spring cleaning," is expired at this point in late June. It's a mess and an embarrassment and not something he'd want any of them to see.
Especially not her.
So needless to say, Johnny is much too relieved to be at the theater at seven thirty a.m. Buster is somehow there before him, but that's always been a given. The group has joked amongst themselves that the koala sleeps upstairs in his office every night, but sometimes Johnny genuinely wonders if the rumor is true.
While waiting for everyone else, Johnny warms up his vocal cords by singing a quick run through of Train's "Hey, Soul Sister" from the front row of seats below. As always, Buster surprises him by hopping down from the stage and landing with his furry arms spread wide.
"Johnny boy! Sounding great as always," the koala greets him. Johnny jumps up, a sheepish grin already spreading on his face.
"T- thank you, Mr. Moon."
"Please, I've told you so many times to just call me Buster." Buster adjusts his bowtie as he and his much taller companion jog up onto the stage. "Alright, sooo…" He drags out the word, rummaging through a stack of belongings until he finds his beloved clipboard and so-called "lucky pencil."
Johnny stands at attention, hands in the pockets of his jeans while his boss thinks out loud.
"Grand reopening in two weeks… we'll need a decent show to advertise by then… pair Meena with… and Johnny…"
The young gorilla straightens even more, leaning forward slightly as he hears his name. "Mr. Moon—"
"Johnny," the koala says. He circles around the bigger animal, clicking his tongue. "Johnny, Johnny, Johnny… let's see here…" He stops right in front of him, craning his neck to lock eyes. "Eddie and I have been discussing things, and we believe our next show needs to be entirely duet acts. You gotta admit, Rosita and Gunter's duet was a real big hit, great way to start off the last show…" Buster wanders off into mumbles again as he consults his clipboard.
Johnny tries again. "Mr. Moon—"
"Aha! I have it. We'll put Rosita and Gunter together again, they had great chemistry. And Meena with Mike— elephant and mouse together on stage! It'll be perfect."
Johnny stiffens as he realizes exactly who he's left to be paired with. "W- wait, Mr. Moon, Meena an' Mike don't get along too well— 'aybe you can put me wit' her instead…"
Buster's cheerful voice steamrolls right over Johnny's words. "So that leaves you and Ash. Perfect!" His pencil scratches over the clipboard, scribbling down notes in handwriting messier than any doctor's.
"Ash and I sing completely different types of music—"
"So you can teach each other, then. You've played a little acoustic guitar, right?" At Johnny's nod, Buster grins. "So you already know the basics, she'll just show you the rest. And you can teach her piano. It'll definitely be… ah… unique, but I think your voices and instruments could work really well together."
Johnny droops. "But she doesn't—"
"Ah, ah, ah. Just trust me on this one, okay, Johnny boy?" Buster's wide beam temporarily shifts into a serious frown. "When have I ever let you down?" Pause. "Actually, no, don't answer that."
Right then Rosita hustles in, her yellow bag swinging from her shoulder. "Phew! What a morning," she breathes, nearly tripping on her way up to the stage. "No minivan will ever be big enough to contain all those piglets…" Johnny and Buster nod knowingly, despite having zero clue what exactly it's like to be a busy mother.
Eddie slouches in next, followed by Gunter (in a purple glittery leotard this time), then Mike, then Meena. Ash is last, looking harried as she balances a steaming cup of coffee with a thick pile of music sheets and her guitar case. Johnny averts his eyes from her as he feels a melancholy flutter in the bottom of his stomach.
Buster begins explaining his "wonderful" idea for the next concert, working title "Dynamic Duets." When he announces Rosita and Gunter as a pair, the pigs grin happily, as he gleefully links his arm with hers and leads her back to the biggest rehearsal space to practice dance moves. Meena and Mike are announced next, and both look equally disgusted and horrified. Shockingly, however, they accept their assignment without much protest and head over to the backstage.
Johnny and Ash are the only two left, and the feathery wings tickle his stomach again. Buster officially puts them together, and the porcupine gives a grunt as she takes a long sip of her mocha. Johnny is once again like a statue as he watches her begin to head backstage. A fatherly pat on the arm from Buster— which would likely be a pat on the shoulder without height restrictions— wakes Johnny from his trance.
"You got this, champ," Buster grins.
Johnny shakes him off. "What? It's just Ash."
The older man rolls his eyes. "Johnny, you've really been doing a horrible job at hiding it."
The gorilla's heart thrums against his ribcage. "Hiding what?"
"Your crush on her," Buster replies in a singsong voice.
Johnny is surprised with how quickly he jumps to his own defense. "Yeah, well, who wouldn't have a crush on her? She's hilarious, she's quirky, she's intelligent, and she's— she's…"
"You can say it."
"Say what?"
"'Hot,'" Buster says, smirking. "You think she's hot. Don't be so afraid to let your feelings out. Remember, you've performed in front of hundreds of people. That's an impossible feat to accomplish for most. But you did it. Ash is just one tiny person who is also your friend. I know you have it in you to ask her out."
Johnny wrings his hands, trying to get rid of the sweat on his palms. "Yeah, an' risk gettin' a quill in my eye." He tilts his head, studying the shorter animal carefully. "An' apparently I 'ave competition too…"
Buster lifts his eyebrows. "Oh, no no no. I do not have a crush on a barely legal girl." He shakes his head swiftly, fluffy ears flapping. "I thought you knew?"
"Knew?"
Buster chuckles. "Johnny, I'm gay." He lifts his hand in a wave over to Eddie, who is fiddling with controls on the other side of the stage. "I've been dating Eddie for, like, three months now."
"Oh." Johnny stumbles back, looking from the sheep, who is oblivious to their conversation, then back to Buster. "I- I didn't realize… wow. I'm sorry. But congrats. You two must be really great together."
Buster offers him a lopsided grin, clearly not offended at all. Then again, it's very difficult to offend this guy. "Yeah. We are, aren't we?" He lifts his voice into a yell so Eddie can hear.
The tech guy nudges off his headphones, squinting at them in confusion. "What'd you say?" he yells back.
"We're great together!" Buster says. He forms a heart shape with his hands. "As a couple! Right?"
Eddie flattens his ears, and Johnny swears he can see a faint blush on his face. "Um, y- yeah, right," Eddie says before burying himself back in his work.
"Well, there ya have it," Buster says. "Now, I want you to go back there and just try to work with her. If you two really aren't getting along, I can always switch you, but only as a last resort."
Johnny watches him stride away, over to bother Eddie about something. Then the gorilla heaves a sigh, faces the rehearsal rooms, and heads backstage to find Ash.
It's a shame, he thinks, that Buster misunderstood Johnny's comment. He hadn't seen Buster as competition for Ash.
He meant Lance.