It was almost 2 am when the Hamato family reunited back in the hut. Donatello was finishing a little snack when Leonardo entered a few seconds later and headed to the bathroom to take a shower. Splinter was already out like a light, sleeping soundly in his soft bed. Raphael joined them later carrying a slumbering Michelangelo in his arms.
"Looks like someone's batteries ran out," Don commented.
"It was about time; I don't think I could've dealt with his hyperactivity for much longer," Raph chuckled. "Is Sensei in bed, Don?"
"Went to sleep an hour ago and we should be doing the same."
"Don't need to tell me twice. I'll just drop the knucklehead in his room before I hit the hay." With that said, Raph went upstairs with the snoring orange-clad turtle in his arms.
Once Raph reached Mikey's room, he turned around and tried pushing the door open with his shell but to his bad luck, the damned thing was closed. It took all his ninja skills to open the door without waking up his youngest brother; if Mikey woke up now, he'd be cranky and more annoying than usual… and no one would like that at 2 am. Carefully, maneuvering Mikey's weight on his other arm, Raph opened the door as silently as he could. Good news was the door opened without a sound.
The bad news? Mikey had clung onto his arm like hugging a teddy bear.
The red-clad ninja let his brother's body lay down in the soft bed and tried to free his arm from Mikey's strong and possessive grip. Raph wanted to jostle his brother so badly right now but a cranky Mikey was not a nice sight and he was too tired to deal with that or even explode in anger. One by one, Raph removed Mikey's fingers from his arm but every time he did so, the youngest would just hold his other arm or hand or whatever he could cling onto.
Raph sighed in frustration; would he have to spend the rest of the night as… Mikey's teddy bear? For real?! This had to be a nightmare!
"I see you're having a little problem there, Raph," Leo's voice came from behind.
Raph sighed. "You don't say."
"You could just sleep with him, you know?" Leo said in a hushed tone. "Because I don't think he'll let you go, and you know better than waking Mikey up when he's deep asleep."
"And get teased in the morning? No, thanks!" Raph replied, raising his voice a little and causing Mikey to stir in his sleep.
"Raph, be quiet for god's sake!" Leo reprimanded his hothead brother.
"Can't you just help me, oh Fearless one?!"
The sword wielder rolled his eyes and sighed; if an annoying Mikey was bad, a whining Raph was terrible. He tried to lure sleeping Mikey to hug his stuffed panda bear but it was hopeless; the youngest refused to let go of Raphael. Michelangelo had a death grip on him and mumbled something in his sleep.
"Damn kid, what's gotten into him?!"
"He might be having a nightmare," Leo commented. Raph was about to reply when Mikey's mumbles turned into clear words.
"N-no… bad pickles, bad…"
Leo chuckled. "Yeap, he's definitely having one."
The red-clad turtle growled. "Either way, I ain't staying here with Mike."
"Gnehngnh…evil pickles… don't eat Raphie…" The mentioned turtle mumbled.
Leo had to choke back a laugh and try to avoid Raph's glare. "Aww, c'mon Raph. Have a heart; Mikey is just 'trying to protect you' in his sleep. Isn't that true, little bro?"
Mikey yawned loudly. "Yeah… eat all the bad pickles… keep Raphie safe…"
Now it was Raph's time to stiffen a chuckle; Leo, on the other hand, was having a hard time trying not to laugh out loud. The sai-wielder shook his head while grinning; he really didn't have other choice, so it seemed. Slipping into the bed and trying not to jostle Mikey too much, Raph finally lied down beside the youngest turtle.
"I can't believe I'm doing this," he sighed.
"It's just for one night. No big deal," Leo said.
"Yeah, sure. You're just saying that cuz it ain't your arm."
The leader laughed quietly while he walked away, and after exchanging the respective 'good byes', he left Raph and Mikey and made his way to his room. Meanwhile, once Donatello finished cleaning up the kitchen, the genius turtle went upstairs ready for a long night of sleep. Going to bed at 2 am was almost natural for him back in New York because of all his projects, but during these vacations, his main job was to have fun. It consumed pretty much the same lapse of time and drained his energy twice as fast, but it felt twice as good.
When he passed by his brothers' rooms, snores of all kind could be heard. Clearly, they were off in Dreamland.
The purple-clad ninja was about to go to his room but the soft light coming from below Who's room's door indicated she was still awake… and that just couldn't be. She needed to be sleeping, not wide awake and probably working.
Don knocked at the door twice before opening it. "Who, go to sleep. It's too late to be chatting."
"I'm not chatting; I'm uploading the pics I took this morning," the girl replied.
"Whatever you're doing, it can wait for tomorrow, Who. Go to bed," the genius insisted.
Who laughed. "Look who's talking, Mr. Workaholic of the Year."
Don blushed in embarrassment but kept his serious posture. Now he understood Leo all those times he had to drag him out of the lab at 3 or 4 am… and sometimes even at 5 or 6 am. Or later.
"I promise I'll turn this off in 10 minutes, ok?" Who said, giving him an innocent look.
Don sighed. "Alright, but no more than 10."
"Yes, Mommy," the girl teased. Don shook his head and left the room.
The last of the pics was being uploaded onto the girl's laptop. She smiled every time she saw them- so many memories… good and bad ones, but mostly good ones. She stirred her arms and yawned; she was just as exhausted as the others were and couldn't wait to hit the hay.
Finally the last pic had been uploaded.
Who was about to turn off the device but her Skype line activated. Someone was calling her. Reluctantly, she accepted the call; whoever was calling… better had a good reason.
The faces of her comrades back at the choir appeared.
"Whoey!" they said in unison. Now that was pleasant surprise.
"Guys! Hello! Long time no see," Who said, smiling the whole time. "How-"
"-Whoey, you have to come here as soon as you can!" Fiona said hurriedly.
"But why?"
"Two words: Halloween play," Helga answered.
"We're gonna do The Phantom, girl. And you gotta be here!" Ted continued.
Who gasped. "Wait, wait… are you serious? The Phantom?! That's awesome! Who's directing?"
"Danny Evans; we were lucky to contact him before he left to Brussels," Deuce said grinning.
"Guys, I got a text form the choir. We had to be there like 15 minutes ago!" Fiona's voice came from the background.
Deuce came closer to the camera. "Who, I know you're having a great time in Hawaii, but-"
"-vacations are over, you must come." With that said Helga turned off Ted's laptop, leaving everyone shocked by her attitude.
"What?"
"Uh Helga, don't you think that was a little bit harsh?" Fiona asked, feeling a bit intimidated.
"Not waste time with long flowery explanations; just be direct, makes things easier," Helga explained. "Now let's go!"
…
8:40 am - Radio City Music Hall
…
People were already gathered in the scenario when the four friends arrived, panting and sweating from all the running in order to arrive partially on time.
"You think someone noticed us?" Deuce panted.
"Don't think so," Ted said, sighing in relief.
"Don't be so sure, young man." A deep voice could be heard behind Johansen who immediately froze in place.
The man dressed in a designer black suit- Italian designer, real snake-skinned brown shoes, a universal Bluetooth headset in his right ear and golden rings on each finger. He looked as if he was around his 40's; apparently with overweight problems, grey hair and a perfectly trimmed brown moustache. Beside him, there was Frida looking as devilish as always.
The man looked at the four friends like looking at meaningless objects. Fiona had to hide behind Helga because of the sudden panic attack that came upon her.
"Relax, leave this to me," Ted whispered. "Sup! How ya doin'!" he said cheerfully while approaching the man.
"What is he doing?!" Fiona hissed; Helga and Deuce just limited to shrugging and wishing the earth could open and swallow them right now.
In the meantime, Johansen continued talking with a smile on his face. "Whoa man, traffic sure is a big problem in good ol' New York, right?"
Frida and her companion looked at him weirdly. Johansen threw an arm around the man's shoulder's and leant against him trying to look cool; Deuce facepalmed at the action while Helga and Fiona looked away.
"I'm telling ya, I don't know where all those cars come from. One second we're driving peacefully and the next, BOOM! WHOA MOMMA! We're surrounded by all kind of angry drivers. And who they blame? Us! Can you believe it?"
The man freed himself from the awkward "hug", making Ted fall.
"OW! What the hell, man!"
"So… this is the ADD guy you were telling me about, Princess?"
Frida huffed. "Unfortunately yes, Daddy"
"Excuse me, sir…" Deuce finally interfered. "…I don't think we've met before. Who are you?"
"Frederick Higgins, music promoter," the man said dryly. "And I believe the message Evans sent said: All the choir must be here at 8:10 am."
"Yeah, you see-" Fiona started.
"-Just so you know, young girl, tardiness is something that will not be tolerated here" Frederick interrupted abruptly. "You and your comrades will have to work on that."
"Now I see where Frida gets her pompous attitude," Fiona mumbled.
"Sådan far, sådan dotter," Helga commented.
"So we got here a lil' late. But hey! We're here, looking good, fresh and we don't need tons of make-up. Am I right, Princess?" Ted said mockingly, making Frida turn red in anger.
Frederick scoffed. "Well, if that is what you call …'looking good'…then-"
"-look who's talking, Mr. barrel-belly."
The grey haired man growled, recognizing whose voice was that. "Evans"
When Evans entered in the place, everyone cheered, whistled and applauded. Evans was a thin but very tall man, 46 years old with short golden hair, big blue eyes and a smile that resembled the Cheshire cat's; that, and his slightly weird attitude, had given him his current nickname: "Crazy Evans". He was dressed informally in black jeans and a white T-shirt with a dragon printed on it.
"Higgins, good morning to you too. I'm surprised to see you here. Didn't you have a boring business meeting somewhere else?"
"Those things can wait. There is no way I'm missing my daughter's great moment, my friend," Frederick said smugly, caressing his daughter's hair.
"Old man, I think your tie is too tight and clearly restricting the circulation to your brain," Evans said tugging at Frederick's tie, earning enthusiastic laughs from everyone. "There won't be any great moment yet."
"Wait, aren't the auditions going to be today?" a girl from the crowd said.
Evans shook his head negatively. "Nope."
"But in the message-" Frederick argued.
"-you didn't read between the lines, did you?" Danny chuckled, leaving the grey haired man and the others confused.
"I called you all here to welcome a special someone who, unlike Mr. Higgins, is a great friend of mine."
Again, laughs echoed in the place. Frederick was red, furious and you could almost see smoke coming out of his ears. Ignoring Higgins' anger, Evans proceeded.
"Recently he participated in the production of Les Misérables that was immediately embraced by critics and audience. He's the most talented, gifted virtuoso pianist in all Paris, his hometown, and also a well known tenor/baritone. Please welcome: *Cécil Dubois!"
From the shadows, a dark suited figure revealed itself; the young man was around his 20's, his dark hair was tied up in a pony tail and his slate-grey eyes captivated the attention of many of the young girls in the room. He was tall and he didn't look quite muscular, but he wasn't completely skinny either. In other words: he was athletic, and dressed in black from head to toe. Dreamy sighs, gasps of admiration and immediate chatter from the girls began as soon as Dubois joined them in the middle of the stage.
"Thank you so much for coming,my dear friend," Evans said, smiling widely and stretching his hand towards his guest of honor.
"Pleasure is entirely mine," Cécil smiled back, shaking hands with Evans. He had a very marked accent, but it was obvious he had dominated English perfectly so a translator wouldn't be needed.
Dubois turned to the curious crowd and smiled at them, causing the ladies to squeal like high school girls.
"You can all call me Cécil, mess amis. And I most grateful to be here surrounded by such talented Mesdames et Messieurs."
"Oh, but it is us who are grateful for having you here," Evans replied enthusiastically. Then, he directed his attention to the choir.
"My kids, Cécil will help us with theatricality and orchestral direction since -if my memory doesn't fail me- he was part of the same production we are working on."
Cécil chuckled. "That was years ago, mon ami, but I will do my best."
"I'm sure you will. Now, I must leave for a few hours so I'm afraid you're alone with my little devils, but don't worry, they don't bite… much."
Laughs and chuckles from the crowd could be heard once again while Danny departed from the place. Dubois clapped twice and his smiling expression turned into one of pure concentration.
"Allez! Let us begin: violin and cello sections will work with me now. The rest, take a moment to tune up your instruments; we will begin in 20 minutes."
"What about the choir, Mr. Dubois?" Fiona asked.
"Just Cécil, ma chère" The Frenchman said smirking, making the girl blush furiously.
"Alright… Cécil…, what about the auditions? The choir was told to-"
"-Pardonne moi, mademoiselle. But I'm afraid you will have to wait until tomorrow" Dubois replied. "To be honest I did not expect you to come but… Evans is… well, he does unexpected things."
Deuce chuckled. "He has been always like that. You'll get used to it"
"So… that means we have the rest of the day free?" Ted asked expectantly.
"Oui, monsieur."
"Woohoo! We're outta here! Au revoir, Dubois!" Johansen yelled and did the moon walk as he reached the stairs, being followed by the rest of the choir.
Some girls of the orchestra had surrounded Dubois and flooded him with questions while many of the girls from the choir giggled and gossiped about his looks, his accent, his gorgeous eyes… But physical qualities aside, the team was glad to have such a talented member in their ranks.
Nothing would go wrong in this production; that was certain.
…
…
Sådan far, sådan dotter: Like father, like daughter
* Pronunciation: Ze-ceele Dew-bwa.