Hayley here: Although this chapter is short, it stands perfectly on its own. This one has been written for a long time, so it only felt right to finally post it. Although I love every single character with all of my heart, Cassandra is my favorite character to write. I'm sure it's obvious, at this point, but that being said, this chapter flowed easily for me and it just made sense. Please enjoy and leave reviews! Love always, Hayley

Chapter 9: Once Upon A Dream

Orchestra warm up was one of Cassandra's favorite sounds in the world. It meant she was either backstage getting ready to perform, or she was in the audience waiting to see a show. Regardless, it meant she was in the theatre. Her home. It was the place she felt the safest, besides her wife's arms, and it was something she knew she could always count on.

She continued to stretch her left leg on the barre in the wings of the stage. It was opening night, and she would be damned if her achilles heel got the best of her during this performance. She knew she had to be hyper-aware of her body and the music on the stage, as well as focused on her role. No distractions.

After thanking the stage manager for her ten minute warning, she pulled her leg carefully off of the barre and made her way back to her dressing room for a final sip of water. They were going to call places in five, but her throat was suddenly dry with nerves. This was opening night, after all, and she had to absolutely kill this first performance of Fame or the reviewers would chew them up and spit them out. Before her hand could touch the handle on the dressing room door, she caught the gaze of a woman standing down the hall.

Cassandra's palms started to sweat.

The woman's hair rivaled Cassie's in lusciousness and thickness, and as she walked closer Cassie could see that she had crows feet around her wide, expressive green eyes. Megan July. In her arms she carried a bouquet of white roses. The corners of her lips were raised in a nervous, apologetic smile.

Cass's insides went cold and she spun on her heels to head back to the stage. She could hear the voice of the stage manager yell, "Places, everyone!" but only vaguely. What is that woman doing here? Tonight, of all nights? How dare she just think she can show up here with flowers and everything will be okay? She abused me for years and now because I might be something special she feels bad about it?

Suddenly she was performing, her mind clearing and focusing on nothing but dance, regardless of the flash of emerald green eyes she kept catching in the audience. Front row. Dead center. Each time she saw her mother, she turned her attention to something else-the brick on the corner of the wall, the back of Sophia's head as she danced beside her, the screen up towards the balcony that showed the orchestra-but those eyes continued to haunt her-stare her down, judgingly.

When she turned, she was back in her dressing room, dazed and confused. Why was she blacking out? Was the performance over or was it just intermission? Was she missing her entire opening night just because she couldn't get her mind off of her mother?

This can't be happeningShe can't ruin one of the only good things in my life...

She stared at herself in the dressing room mirror, her cast mates knocking one at a time on her door to congratulate her on her performance. Multiple bouquets of flowers sat on the desk in front of her. Including the white roses. Cassandra bit her tongue and picked up the vase containing the offensive white flowers, whipping it across the room. The shatter made her jump, but it was satisfying. She changed out of her costume and there was a final knock on the door.

Before Cassandra could object, she was greeted by her mother. She promptly slammed the dressing room door in the woman's face, her head pounding and her skin sweating. She felt like she was going to be sick and closed her eyes. When she opened them she was stepping discreetly out the stage door, her heels clicking softly on the uneven city pavement and her jacket hugging her body. Megan July locked eyes with Cassandra and opened her mouth to beg her to stop and listen.

"Cassandra, I know you're upset but please, let me back into your heart-"

Cass pulled her jacket closer and ignored her mother, her eyes burning with tears. She blinked and when the tears were wiped from her eyes she found herself in a room with countless other people, dinner laid out before them and a large glass of red wine in her hand. She gulped it down and the waiter was quick to find her empty glass and refill it.

She blinked. Megan stood across the room, her expression dejected. She reached an arm out for Cassandra and the younger woman finished off another glass. And another. Her eyes slammed shut and she put her hands to her forehead. Her cast mates around her were laughing, clinking their glasses to celebrate a successful opening night. Cassandra knew she was supposed to be celebrating with them.

The room was spinning, and even though her eyes were shut she still couldn't get rid of the image of her mother's face.

"Cassandra, please…" her mother's voice echoed through her head. "I love you, and I'm sorry…"

A loud ringing went through her head and Cass's eyes shut tighter. "Go away." She growled.

"Goodbye, my little Cassandra…"

"You killed little Cassandra," Cassie cried. "You destroyed my innocence, your job was to protect me, to protect Monica. Now it's my job to protect Cadence. At least she'll have a mother figure who cares."

"Cassandra…"

Her mother's voice was starting to fade. Cassie downed another glass of the dark, red wine and collapsed at the table.

. . .

Cassandra shot up in her bed with a hand to her pounding chest. Her breathing was heavy and her lower back was sweating through her shirt. A loud ringing persisted and she squinted her eyes to see in the dark bedroom that she and Shelby used to call home. Shelby woke with her, reaching out for her wife's arm to comfort her, her eyes wide in concern.

Once Cassie's breathing was under control, she realized the ringing was her phone. There was a sharp pang in her heart as she reached over to her bedside table to answer it, expecting the worst.

"Mrs Corcoran-July?" a low male voice spoke on the other end.

"This is she," Cass's voice was rough and tired. She cleared her throat.

"I'm sorry to bother you so late, this is Dr. Graft. I'm the attending on-call for your mother's case...we need you up at the hospital as soon as possible."

There was an awkward beat after which Cassandra's voice cracked when she said,

"She's dead, isn't she?"

Shelby's hold on Cassie's arm tightened and she pulled her wife close as they listened for the news.

The doctor sighed. "I'm afraid so, ma'am."

Cassie sighed in response. "Okay. Thank you. I'll be right there."