The Lily Hayes Theater buzzed with energy on the opening night of Bombshell. The show was over a year in the making, and had gone through several cast changes involving two of the principal members, one of which now had her name above the title.

Dressed in her sequin finale dress, Ivy Lynn observed herself in her dressing room mirror. Opening night was going to commence in one hour, the culmination of blood, sweat, tears, rejection, euphoria, and so much more. There's no turning back now, Ivy thought to herself. She had finally made it – she was Marilyn Monroe on the Broadway stage.

Ivy had been with the production weeks before the official workshop began. Her leaked song of Never Give All the Heart amassed millions of views before it was taken down due to infringement. After all was said and done, she had won the role, lost the role, lost the role again, and finally gotten it back for the final time a few short months ago.

A subtle knock on the door caused Ivy to blink her eyes and waken from her daydreams. "Come in," she responded with her best breathy Marilyn impersonation. She stood to greet what she assumed to be a member of the production. Her mouth formed into a fine 'O' as her visitor stepped through the doorway, one of the last people she expected to see an hour before curtain.

Armed with the largest bouquet of pink and purple lilies Ivy had ever seen stood the show's former director Derek Wills. "Stunning," he murmured, unable to say hello.

Ivy sat down as Derek closed the door to the dressing room. "How did you get back here?"

"Well I am the choreographer and former director," Derek reasoned. "And I bribed stage manager Linda with a box of very fine chocolates," he finished for good measure. Derek placed the flowers on the table and leaned in for a kiss, only for Ivy to gently push him away with her hand. "I couldn't wait till the show," Derek explained, attempting to recover from Ivy's rebuff.

"I just finished applying my makeup," Ivy explained quietly, struggling to meet his gaze. "The flowers are beautiful."

"Lilies are your favorite after all, or at least that's what Broadway Beat tells me."

Ivy couldn't help but smile. "I didn't know you followed my press."

"I find it fascinating." Derek reached for one of the pink flowers and carefully pulled it out, handing it to her.

Ivy accepted his gesture, their fingers touching. "You're going to an awful lot of trouble for someone that you're just casual with." She still couldn't bring herself to look at him, dressed in his tux, here to see her. They had agreed, unspoken at first, to be casual, after everything that had transpired between them the previous year. Their time spent together was mostly in the evening, after performances, and away from prying eyes. No one in their circle of friends or theater scene knew that they were even seeing each other.

Derek reached for a chair, and pulled next to Ivy, mindful of her space. "I think I'm past casual," he said gently. "I'm not sure if we ever could be."

"You agreed that we were," Ivy said quickly. "I asked you that before you started staying over every night."

"It started that way," he reasoned, taking the flower from the table and tracing her it over her arms. He paused for Ivy to tell him to stop, but she said nothing. He moved the flower up to the side of her cheek. "I didn't like the way we left things this morning." He lingered there a moment, drinking her in.

Ivy opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came out. This morning had left her confused and ultimately lonely. One minute, they had been in bed together and everything seemed fine, until the topic of the premiere and the after party came up. Within moments, they were at an impasse, with neither party admitting what they wanted. "I didn't either," Ivy said meekly. She reached for the stray lily and stroked the petals. "When I was a little girl in Connecticut, I played in my grandmother's garden and I would obsess over the boys in my class." She touched the petals one by one. "He likes me, he likes me not."

"He loves you. I'm in love with you," he emphasized, eyes looking into hers, waiting for a response.

"How could you – you never said anything," Ivy stammered, looking down at the carpet. "Not to me anyway."

"I should have told you this morning – I know that," Derek said apologetically, kneeling to get on her level. "I've never been much for words," he explained lamely, knowing that it wouldn't suffice. "More of a man of action I guess."

"Some things need to be said," Ivy said coolly, a color rising to her cheeks. "Especially when someone can just throw out an 'I love you' on the fly and then sleep with someone else the same day."

"This is nothing like Boston," Derek reached for Ivy's long finger. Boston had been the ending point for their relationship last year. Ivy had lost the part of Marilyn, albeit temporarily, and Derek had lost her. "I can promise you that."

Ivy didn't pull away from Derek's touch, though she wasn't willing to look at him just yet. "When did you know?"

"When did I know that I was in love?" Derek closed his eyes. "Two weeks ago, the night of the dress rehearsal for Bombshell. You didn't call that night, and I waited by the phone for you, thinking of you the entire time. By the next night, I knew I had to see you."

"So you waited for me on my doorstep," Ivy remembered. She had been flattered that he had come to her, after spending so much of her time chasing him, trying to get him to notice her. "You could have told me then."

"I would have scared you off – we both know it," Derek laughed shaking his head. "I was scaring myself as it was. I hadn't felt that way about anyone in years; I don't even think I was ever even in love with my second wife."

Ivy finally looked at Derek. "When I asked if we were 'just casual' that night, you laughed as if it were the obvious answer."

Derek exhaled. "What's a person supposed to say when someone asks that?"

"The truth," Ivy said simply. "You tell them the truth, even if it does frighten them a little. This is new for me too. No one has ever told me that they were in love with me. At least not to my face," Ivy clarified. Ivy's eyes drifted to the bouquet resting on the table. Out of the corner of her right eye, she saw the slightest glimmer. Standing, Ivy ventured closer, sticking her hand in. "Oh!"

"All stars should sparkle," Derek explained, standing to his feet. "Not that you need a lot of help in that department."

In Ivy's palm rested a delicate diamond hairpin. "It's exquisite."

Derek plucked it out of her fingers. "For when your hair gets in your eyes." Ivy lowered her head, giving Derek access to stick the pin in place. "Pushing the hair out of your eyes is one of my favorite things to do," he admitted.

Ivy smiled appreciatively. "So how do I look?"

Derek clapped his hands. "The first of your soon to be many standing ovations."

"Really?" Ivy asked, her voice wavering slightly. "So am I finally the Marilyn you envisioned?"

Derek raised his right hand, caressing her cheek. "You will always be more to me than Marilyn. Marilyn is a role; you are a star, a true star. Just remember what I told you this morning, forget everything else and just let go."

"Well I don't think I can forget everything that happened today. That was some declaration you made."

"I meant every word," he promised, lingering for a moment. Coughing lightly he finished, "I'm going to head into the theatre, ready to admire you in all of your glory."

Ivy grasped the table for support. Part of her wanted to run after him, part of her wanted to run away, but soon it would be time for the curtain to rise.

The orchestra swelled as the performance came to a close. Ivy stood center stage, next to first time director, and one of her very best friends, Tom Levitt. The applause in the theatre was rapturous, but Ivy had eyes for only one person in the third row. She leaned into Tom, whispering into his ear.

Tom's voice rose over the din. "Our original choreographer, Derek Wills is also in the audience with us." The cast pointed into the third row, the audience calling for Derek to join the stage.

Derek followed the cues, coming onto the stage, unable to take his eyes off Ivy. Standing next to Tom in the middle of the line, he bowed to the audience. As he rose, Ivy slipped a piece of paper into his hand.

I'm in love with you too.

Derek's eyes widened as Ivy nodded her head. There would be a celebratory party for everyone after the curtain came down, but then, she would be all his. The world was suddenly filled with possibilities.