"For the Benefit"
Chapter 2
by TehFuzzyPenguin
Disclaimer: I own no part of Disney's High School Musical
----
Steam drifted from the room when Sharpay, dressed in a grey shirt and jeans, opened her door. She grimaced apologetically at Kelsi and said, "Michelle finally finished." A light brown flash appeared next to Sharpay's face, and Kelsi assumed it was Michelle with wet hair, the rest of her body behind the wall.
"Hi," said Michelle, after looking Kelsi up and down. "This one's cute," she said to Sharpay.
"And married," Sharpay said proudly. "Now go entertain the baby Naomi." Michelle saluted, and her head disappeared from view. Kelsi assumed they had adjoining rooms. Sharpay smiled tightly.
"Is that okay?" Kelsi asked. "I mean, I don't mind Michelle—I mean..."
"She loves babysitting. I'm the antisocial older sister." Sharpay shrugged. "If I can't drink with them, what's the point?"
"Must not be one." Sharpay smiled, a real, amused smile, and Kelsi felt something in her chest go thump. Sharpay stepped to the side. "Come on in." She didn't look to see if Kelsi was following, heading instead directly for the king-sized bed. Standing at the foot of it, Sharpay closed her eyes, exhaled completely, and fell backwards on the floral covers. "Mm," she said.
"This is your room?" Kelsi asked. It would have looked like a penthouse suite, were it not for the unfortunate color scheme and overuse of flowers. Yellow, dying flowers. On every piece of upholstery possible.
"They treat me well," Sharpay murmured. "This mattress is orgasmic." She wiggled herself backwards until her feet could find leverage on the bed, and then pushed herself to lean back against the headboard. "Try it."
"Sharpay."
Sharpay burrowed deeper into the mattress. "Mm," she moaned. Kelsi licked her lips, pressed her nails into her palms, and strode quickly to the bed, wincing when the door slammed shut behind her.
Sharpay wiggled her eyebrows and grinned. "Darling, I have faith in Bryan, but really."
Kelsi frowned, turned around, and flopped back on the bed. "Oh god," she breathed.
"Mmhmm." Sharpay patted the spot next to her. "Get up here."
"Oh god," Kelsi said again. She struggled to move. "This is almost ridiculous." Sharpay made an impatient sound. "It's like...five feather mattresses floating on an ocean." She wiggled backwards as well, with less success, and ended up with her head on the pillows. "Oh my god."
Sharpay stretched luxuriously, her elbows popping as she settled back down, her right arm coming to rest on the other side of Kelsi. Kelsi took the hint and laid her head under Sharpay's chin. "God," Sharpay said. "It's been a while."
"Sure." Kelsi was still wrapped up in the comfort of the bed and too contented to try to fight Sharpay's command over her. This time, she decided, was her choice. Completely her choice. And that was different from the years before.
"You know, I really don't feel like doing anything now but watching reruns of Oprah and taking a nap." Sharpay rubbed her nose with her free hand. Her voice vibrated through her ribs and into Kelsi's skull.
"I don't watch Oprah," Kelsi said defensively.
"Neither do I," Sharpay said, and laughed. "God, I'm old."
"You're 38. You still have thirty years till you're Bernadette Peters. Don't you want to be Bernadette Peters?"
"No."
"No? What about Kristin Chenoweth?"
"I want to be Sharpay Evans."
"You are Sharpay Evans," Kelsi said mildly. "You've melted my husband's brain."
"No," Sharpay said. "No, no," she repeated, irritated. "I mean, I don't want to be like anyone. As much as I love Kristin. I want to be me. And thirty years from now, I don't want anyone saying 'Oh, there's the next Sharpay Evans.' I'm me. I'm the only me."
Kelsi sighed. All of Sharpay's words came through her ribs into Kelsi's jaw, and she sort of wished Sharpay hadn't stopped talking. "What are you going to do when you get to Bernadette Peters, though?"
"I'll do voiceovers," Sharpay said. "For feminine hygiene products and the stupid Zales commercial."
"Are there voiceovers in Zales commercials? I thought it was just music."
"I will make Zales commercials." Sharpay giggled. "Then I'll be Julia Murney."
"Who?"
"Exactly. There's several Kristin Chenoweths, another aging Bernadette, and a balls-to-the-walls Sutton, but only one Cocktober Julia." Kelsi coughed. Sharpay smirked and repeated, "Cocktober." Kelsi recovered. She inhaled Sharpay's Chanel No. 5 and closed her eyes, matching her breathing to the up and down of Sharpay's ribs. This was what it should have been, she thought. Lying around all day talking about theater and Oprah. Kelsi wondered briefly if her life would have turned out differently with this kind of Sharpay relationship.
"Time?" Kelsi mumbled.
"Four-ish. I'll need to get down to the theater soon. It's a nice theater."
"Good acoustics," Kelsi agreed.
"Kinda makes me wish I could've toured here."
"You were too busy winning a Tony. Hey, Naomi."
"Hey." Sharpay snapped her teeth. "Wind Chill Factor. The trip of my life. It's the Wicked of this generation."
"I thought Wicked was the Wicked of our generation," Kelsi said.
"Darling. This is no longer our generation." Sharpay's fingers moved in distracting patterns through Kelsi's hair. "We had the FCC and Britney Spears and the legalization of marijuana and gay almost-marriage. Clearly, no longer relevant issues."
"Except for the gay."
"Except for the gay," Sharpay conceded. "That's still going on. But really, we need to make way for bigger, better things. Four-toed babies and the like. Let the children fight for the revolution." Something rumbled outside the room, and Sharpay looked up, frowning. The sound of dry rice falling together filled the air. Sharpay got up and looked out the window.
"Hey, it's raining."
"Really? In Seattle?" Sharpay turned around and looked excitedly at Kelsi.
"Come make out in the rain with me, Kelsi."
Kelsi tried to find the motivation to rise from the bed. She came up with fistfuls of hay and no needle. "Sharpay...It's raining. It's cold. We will get pneumonia."
"It's wet. It feels good. You will get to kiss me."
Kelsi swallowed. "You can kiss me here."
"Yes. Or I can kiss you outside. I'm going outside." Kelsi contemplated her next move. Adultery was clearly not an issue with Sharpay, who had probably sat Chad down on their first date and explained the whole long, silly idea of falling in love with people. It bothered her that Sharpay might have done so, but she thought it anyway. Bryan had the whole idea of Great Love. The one person you belong with, the one person you need more than anything else in the world. As long as you still have that Great Love, Bryan said, then nothing else you did mattered. It was very Rent-like of him, in a Maureen sort of way.
Kelsi didn't know what she believed in, so she pushed herself up with some difficulty and went out to the balcony for Sharpay.
"You know," she said over the sound of the rain, "you promised me that I would meet Broadway stars."
"You met Michelle," Sharpay said flippantly. Her hair was already plastered to her head, bangs dripping rivulets over her eyes. The grey long-sleeved shirt she wore crinkled against her arms. Kelsi was beginning to regret her white t-shirt. "Besides. We want to go out for dinner. Where can we go?"
Kelsi shivered, and Sharpay held out her thin arms, beckoning her. Kelsi took the safe route and backed herself into Sharpay's hug. "What kind of food do you want?"
"Something not ethnic," Sharpay said. "The babies are sheltered. We can't upset their stomachs."
"How old are they really?"
Sharpay breathed against Kelsi's ear. "One still needs a giant X when she goes to clubs."
"How precious." Kelsi shivered again, but this time not from the cold. Raindrops gathered on her eyelashes, and she squeezed her eyes shut to shed them. She imagined they looked like tears.
"Hey. What's going on in that crazy writer head of yours?" Kelsi stared out into the parking lot.
"It just feels so unreal."
"It's magical," Sharpay said gleefully. "You should write a play about us. Or a musical. But hopefully not a campy, Grease-like one. Or a Spring Awakening."
Kelsi relaxed a little more in Sharpay's embrace. "I don't think I'd like to," she said. She hoped it came off as wistful and not defiant.
"Oh dear, why not?"
"Because—" Kelsi stopped. Sharpay dropped her head even lower, her hair dripping water down Kelsi's back. Her nose bumped below Kelsi's ear. Kelsi imagined that Sharpay whispered something, but maybe it was just her neck itching. "Because then I'd have to share us. And you've made me a selfish kind of person." She could feel Sharpay's smile against her skin.
"Fair enough," Sharpay said, and kissed Kelsi's jaw. Kelsi swallowed nervously and held still. "I'm not very fond of sharing either," Sharpay continued, pressing her lips against the shell of Kelsi's ear.
"We're going to get sick," Kelsi finally found the voice to say. She turned her head to repeat herself, because the rain had a habit of drowning out sounds, and met, instead, Sharpay's mouth, cold lips and warm tongue colliding in the slick water. Every other part of her face felt numb except her lips, so Kelsi focused solely on those. When Sharpay pulled away for a breath, Kelsi followed her, until the angle became fatal. "Um," she said. Past the parking lot was downtown Seattle, she saw, and too many cars going back and forth. Above them, an even grey stretched out and drenched everything.
Sharpay kissed her again. Kelsi opened her mouth in response and focused on breathing in through her nose. Their teeth clicked, and Kelsi lowered her head, fighting the urge to laugh.
She turned around inside Sharpay's arms and laid her head on a sodden shoulder. "I feel like Ilsa," she said.
"I am not Rick," Sharpay replied immediately, and Kelsi did laugh. She watched the rain slip down the railings of the balcony and marveled at how much the city seemed to blur. It felt like the entire world was melting, and she wondered how she'd missed it before.
Someone shouted up at them, and Sharpay turned her head to look over the railing. "What?" she shouted back. Kelsi closed her eyes.
"I don't know," Sharpay kept yelling. "She's up here with me. Yes, that's her. Can she borrow your coat? What? Okay. All right, we'll change." She nudged Kelsi. "Hey, come on. Michelle and company want hotdogs. We need to change, we're going to the theater right afterwards."
"I don't have any clothes," Kelsi mumbled. Her mouth felt numb after the rain cooled it from Sharpay's kisses.
"I know. Wear mine. You can use Michelle's coat. Your value will double." Sharpay shuffled them to the balcony door. "It'll be like Barbie, only better."
"You're skinny."
"You're almost anorexic."
"I don't wear underwear."
"How kinky. Neither do I. Come on."
Kelsi peeled off her clothes and dried herself with a towel, modesty useless when Sharpay was already envisioning her clothed. "You know," Kelsi said, her thoughts more coherent now that her brain was heated, "sometimes I think you have multiple personalities."
"That would mean I didn't know about the other personalities," Sharpay retorted.
"Well, then, sometimes I think you put on a lot of acts."
"Yes. I am an actress." Sharpay pulled a dress over Kelsi's head and adjusted it. "This'll do. I'll carry the heels with me." They retrieved Michelle's coat, which was a little long, and went downstairs to meet Michelle and four other people.
A small, slight girl with short black hair asked, "What were you doing on the balcony?"
"Playing Ingrid and Humphrey," Sharpay answered. Michelle winked, and Sharpay tilted her head in annoyance.
"Who?" the girl asked. Sharpay looked at Kelsi.
"God," she said. "Why do I live?"
----
Bryan gaped at her outfit. "Um," he said. "Is that yours?"
"No. We can't damage it, sad to say," Kelsi said, and he shuddered in a definitely Cocktober sense. "It's Sharpay's."
"Are we on a first-name basis with Sharpay?"
"I'm wearing her clothes," Kelsi said. "We're backstage. Now they want to eat. I think honorifics will just get in the way."
Michelle walked up with the small, Ingrid Bergman-deprived girl on her back. "The little one's tired," she whispered. "Sharpay wants to know where we're going." She saw Bryan. "Hi. I'm Michelle." She worked her elbow under the girl's knee and offered her hand. "Sorry about the awkward position." Bryan, who could care less if Michelle had no teeth and a clubfoot, tactfully ignored the youngest Naomi and shook the hand.
Sharpay herself appeared in the hallway, wiping her face with a towel and dressed relatively down. She took in Bryan's tuxedo and solid blue tie, and raised her eyebrows in approval. "I like him even more," she said to Kelsi. "Hi. Sharpay Evans." Pleasantries were exchanged. "Logan and Josh and um...um...god, Michelle, help me."
"Sean," Michelle supplied. "The new Kenny."
"Are coming. Where are we going?"
Kelsi looked at Bryan, who returned her gaze anxiously. "Pizza?" he asked.
"Pizza," Kelsi said.
"Pizza," Sharpay confirmed.
"Pizza!" Michelle screamed, and dropped the girl. "Come on, Hannah! We're getting pizza!"
"We're getting pizza?" Hannah stumbled to her feet. "I like pizza."
Logan, Josh, and Sean emerged from one dressing room, though Kelsi couldn't tell which was which. Or who was who. One with curly brown hair and ridiculously symmetrical bone structure said, "Is Hannah freaking out over pizza?"
"We're getting pizza," Sharpay explained. "The natives are taking us." She turned to Bryan and smiled. Kelsi tried not to read a rejection in it. "Oh. Guys. This is Bryan, Kelsi's husband. He directs plays when we're not taking his theater." Perfect Face boy waved. "How are we getting there?"
"Getting where?" Michelle asked.
Bryan said, "I can take five."
Sharpay said, "I can take six. And there's nine of us. Can I follow you?" Bryan shrugged, and something like car arrangements were thought out. Somehow, Kelsi ended up with Sharpay and Michelle and Hannah in one car. "In case we get lost," Sharpay had explained.
Finelli's was a nice place for those who appreciated fresh toppings, but had an actor's salary. Or, at least, a regional actor's salary; Kelsi gripped the door handle of Sharpay's pretty little Cadillac and pretended that it didn't have surround-sound speakers and a glass roof.
Because Bryan and Kelsi knew the manager well, they got seated promptly, and all the New York people quickly fell into making their own pizza. Sharpay wanted white, which here included feta cheese and tomatoes. Michelle wanted sausage with sauce, thanks, and green peppers. Hannah and Perfect Face boy (Kelsi was pretty sure it was Sean, because they both looked about thirteen) both liked basic pepperoni, and Logan and Josh thought about having a wings-eating contest.
The waitress, not knowing exactly who they were, came up with a sunny smile and not enough paper. "Hi," Sharpay said. "Okay. We'll have a large pizza, half white with ham and a quarter of that with olives. I mean extra-large." She turned to consult with Michelle. "Yes. Extra-large. And then the other half will be normal, with sausage and green peppers, and a quarter of that with pepperoni, preferably not the quarter touching the one with the olives. And then they want wings. Lots and lots of wings."
She waited politely for the harried woman, who was probably reaching the end of her shift, to stop writing. "And I need another Coke," Sharpay said sweetly. "Thanks!"
"You have water," Michelle chastised.
"Yes. But Bryan's running low. And she didn't even look twice at him." Sharpay flicked her eyes between their glasses on the table.
"Oh look, Sharpay," Michelle pointed out, her left shoulder leaning against Hannah's. "They have the nice mints."
"The what?"
"Mints. The good kind." Michelle shrugged and pushed Hannah away to point. "The good kind," she said again.
Logan was talking about sports with Josh, having been in show business long enough to know how to fake interest in other subjects besides theater. Sean, being less experienced, interjected once: "I couldn't see either of you at a basketball game."
Logan looked at him. "Sean," he said gently, "the Mets are a baseball team." Sharpay snorted into her water and had to cough for several minutes.
Josh indicated Bryan with his head. "Hey," he said, his speaking voice almost too deep for the notes he could sing. "You a Mariners fan?"
Bryan raised his eyebrows. "Seahawks, but I'm not a baseball person." Josh nodded in understanding, and then the wings came.
"Oh god, man," he said. "Logan, you are going to rue this day."
"Right."
"Start ruing!"
Sharpay's phone vibrated, and she pulled it out, frowning at the display. Shrugging, she shoved it back in her coat pocket. Kelsi looked at her quizzically. "I'll take it later," Sharpay said.
Kelsi watched with Bryan as Logan and Josh started in on their wings. It was gruesome in a testosterone way, which Kelsi supposed would always happen with men, no matter how effeminate they might be (and Logan and Josh weren't very, though Sean looked five shades of disgusted). Sharpay, Michelle, and Hannah looked nonplussed at the scene, and after about twenty wings each, the most complicated pizza known to mankind had arrived.
"Holy god," Sharpay muttered. "Do they flash bake these things?" Kelsi shrugged, and helped Hannah try to extract the first piece without stretching the cheese out too much.
"Oh look," Michelle said.
"What?"
"They do the you and Chad thing!" Kelsi and Bryan looked up from their plates, aware that Michelle was talking about them.
"The what thing?" Sharpay asked boredly.
"She gives him her olives and he gives her his tomatoes."
"How cute," said Sharpay, and she cut into her own slice with a fork and knife.
Logan, on the other side of Sharpay, wiped his mouth with his napkin and blew on his fingers. "God," he said. "God, I love wings, but I think my fingerprints are gone."
"Giving up?" Josh asked.
"Oh you only wish."
Before ordering dessert, Sharpay had downed three slices of pizza and made a small amount of bets on Josh and Logan. She got up, then, and Kelsi looked after her inquiringly. Bryan was talking with Michelle, who was laughing at something he'd said.
"I need to call Chad," she explained. Kelsi nodded, and returned her attention to Bryan, who was recounting the many different things meta-theater could do now, with several more styles soon to become cliché.
The dessert menu came, and after they'd eaten, Kelsi went to find Sharpay. Sharpay was standing outside, gripping her phone and looking neutrally up at the sky.
"Hey," said Kelsi.
"Darling." Sharpay turned her head and smiled briefly. "Chad's fine. He's mad that the Red Sox beat the Yankees, though. How's Hannah?"
"Awake." Sharpay nodded.
"It's nice to know that your role is being played by someone who can stay up past midnight. How's Bryan?"
"About to die from the orgy of showbiz." Kelsi hesitated, and then stepped closer, putting her hand on Sharpay's arm. "Thanks. For this, I mean. It really—thanks."
"I do what I can for my people," Sharpay said. She reached around awkwardly and patted Kelsi's hand.
Kelsi looked up with her. "Are you a Yankee or Red Sox fan?" she asked.
"I'm a Mets fan."
"That's not even in the same league."
"That's the best part." Sharpay smiled again. "I'm surprised you know that, Nielsen." She looked down at Kelsi's hand, and her lips curved even higher. "Hey," she said, "if we leave now, we won't have to pay."
The door opened behind them, and Kelsi turned. Hannah looked at them with wide eyes. "Michelle says that you two better come in and pay for your food," she reported.
Sharpay tilted her head back and laughed into the Seattle night.
----
Author's Notes:
Those of you who read A Lifetime of Mean Reds, a joint fic between me and Jen under Penguin-Vitamin, should recognize Michelle and Logan. Because I like to recycle my OC's. The movie that Hannah's never seen is Casablanca. Also, a Julia Murney shoutout because she's awesome. Contact me via review if you want a link to her Cocktober story.
which is to say, review, please!