How it ends, how it begins
Daphne had a total mental break-down when she heard the news, but hid her feelings, like she always did, with the professionalism of a real actress. The day she send the letter to Fred, telling him that she wouldn't come to his wedding, seemed like one of the hardest of her life.
She woke up at 4 P.M., too nervous to stay asleep. If she were to tell him everything in the face, she wouldn't have been like that. After all, she had done it once. But the letter, originally four pages long, was reduced to a simple note in which she thanked him for the invitation but said that couldn't take the honor of being to the wedding. Explaining herself and expressions of her feelings were cut out like bad lines in a script. They were either unnecessary, or misplaced.
"In the end there's barely nothing that connects me to them." She thought after she got off the set, wearing a beautiful white dress and a pair of angel wings, both stained from the artificial coloring they used to replace blood with. Her feet were bare almost the whole time as she had to act on top of a set like the deck on the Titanic, and wearing high heels wasn't the most comfortable way to act. Thus, her legs were aching and were hurt.
She put them in cold water and moved her fingers from time to time, thinking about things. "After all, I cut all my connections with that. Mystery Inc., Coolsville, the gang. I talk to Velma and Shaggy and Scooby, but….it just doesn't feel the same. Maybe I should've been more polite that time…maybe I shouldn't have left with bad sentiments."
But remembering that night, his coldness, his selfishness…did he even care about them? Did he ever care? Once she even fancied herself in love with him, because of that way he treated her and always protected her…and now it seemed nothing but a façade, just…concern of a colleague, who didn't want to lose an important member of his team. Important? Daphne's role wasn't important. Just standing there, looking pretty wasn't a role. Sure, it made a good impression to the media, and the public liked that brains and looks thing, but it didn't do her any good in solving mysteries…and wasn't that more important?
She couldn't help but feeling Fred like a clown with two faces. One, of a business man, of a cold, metal machine who calculated and calculated the merit he got from this and that. And another, the one of a concerned person, and even once or twice-the one of a passionate lover. The latter, he had been for a very short time…though she wished that this was his only side.
As she was sitting on the couch, thinking and looking sad, a knock was heard and then a loud voice was heard.
"Ready or not, here I come!!!"
The next second Matthew Gabriel, her set partner, rushed into the room in all his ridiculousness.
The relationship between them was something very hard to define. Matthew was an actor, with only one previous role, in a television series for teens called "Sweet 17's." He was tall, athletic and had a killer smile, but seemed like a lunatic for those who knew him outside form the stage.
His black, curly hair was always a mess, he combined Armani suits with stuff you wouldn't find even in a garbage can, and his trainers were falling apart. But he woke up at sunrise, he trained Aikido constantly, and was never late. His habits were messy, but had some pattern. His language was….well "rich", his laughter sounded like and explosion and he always knew how to amuse everybody around him. He also run his own webpage, representing himself as his biggest fan girl, and amused himself in reading the different stuff girls wrote in his Internet site.
In short, he was just the guy that you'd suspect being the monster…but Daphne not only felt comfortable around him, she trusted him enough to open up her heart to him. Everything, every prejudice against weirdoes, every caution and doubt were gone. And why shouldn't they? After all, what did Mystery inc give her, other than pain.
"DAPHNEEE, my sweet and lovely Daphne, where are you?!" he sang out, ridiculous as always. Of course Daphne was right in front of him, but she didn't say a word and he began his usual act. "Where, oh, where could my lovely partner be? Oh, Daphne, danger-prone Daphne, come out come out wherever you AREEEEEEEE!"
"Stop it already, I'm right here." She sighed, giving up. He gave her a shocked look.
"My, Daphne, I didn't see you there. You had shrunk down to that couch so much that you had gotten invisible. Don't do that, or next time I'll become a ghost! No, I'm not kidding, I was going to have a heart attack when you spoke like that, your voice was so grave, you seemed like you came out of Hell."
"Will you cut that?!" she said in a wary voice "I'm not fit enough to laugh at your jokes."
"Yeah, well I wasn't joking." He said, lying on the ground in front of his laptop and started typing. "You really did look like Hell. The angel stage was pretty good, a lot of drama and a lot of pain. You even stood en point to do that ballet pose of love….but it had so much pain in it that I got worried." He looked up to her "You still OK?"
"Yeah, just my feet ache." Daphne said. Matthew quickly closed the computer and placed himself on the couch next to her.
"Yeah, how much?" he said, leaning over her lap to see it the water.
"Just bruises and blisters." Daphne sighed "I sure hope they make that scene a pretty darn good one, because I don't think I'll be able to do it again."
"You sure make a lovely angel." He said and without a warning pulled one of her legs and started massaging it. "Does that feel better?"
"Ummm, it's great. But you shouldn't do that, my uncle may come in and see us. Or worse-a paparazzi!"
"Let them, I don't mind. Romantic relationships are the first thing speculated by everybody when it comes to set partners. Friendship comes a lot later."
"And I bet there wasn't ever a relationship such as ours, correct." Laughed Daphne as she got more relaxed and all bad thoughts were scattered in the wind. It wasn't rare, this type of helping one another. Once, after Matthew's girlfriend dumped him for a more successful actor Daphne posed as his other girlfriend in some restaurant so some paparazzi may get some really hot photos. Even she couldn't have missed them.
Of course Daphne wore a wig and tons of make up, but her uncle told them to do whatever they did more discreetly.
"So, are you going to tell me what exactly got you in such a bad mood today?" he asked, after telling her as bunch of jokes "Don't tell me it's just blisters."
"No….I had to write a letter today." Daphne said, feeling sorrow returning. Matthew patiently waited her to regain her composure and then listened to her whole dilemma. But before he could possibly say anything their mail arrived and they face problems far worse than invitations. Fans.
Boxes of chocolates, valentine's day cards that were pretty late, considering the season, and letters. Some from their most devoted fans, some from their friends and family. They managed to read them all.
"It seems I have a second cousin on my father's third line cousin." Said Matthew, smiling. Daphne was about to laugh out, but a telegram in her hands stopped her. As she read it, her face became pale and her eyes started watering. Matthew looked at her, surprised, as tears started dripping down in her feet.
Daphne felt light-headed as her vision became blurry. She barely noticed how Matthew ran to hold her, her poor legs giving out. She sank into his arms, breathing unstable, eyes blinded by tears, sobs escaping her mouth. His words of comfort barely reached her ears, so he quickly swept her off her feet and carried her to lye on the sofa, the wretched piece of paper fell forgotten on the floor.
Later on, Daphne was sleeping. Her sides were still pale, with traces of tears on them, but at least she was peaceful, her slumber undisturbed.
Matthew carefully covered her with a blanket and checked her pulse, suppressing a yawn. They had stayed up all night and much of the day, talking, Daphne telling him everything. The evening he made her eat something and they watched a boring movie, her distress giving way to exhaustion as she fell asleep in his arms.
People didn't understand anything. They thought that there were only two ways of relationship between a man and a woman-it was either hatred or love or nothing. Maybe it was love indeed, but Matthew didn't think her as any woman. He wasn't just physically attracted to her, he felt an urge to always hold her, cradle her, protect her….and she responded in the same way. She would always be there for him. Even if it was just a speculation, it was about time to return the favor with something more than free lunches and massages.
"Don't worry, Daphne." He said as he brushed some hair behind her ear "I'm here for you."
A/N-Well, that was grim.
