Serendipity
Things can't be changed
Until we have a foundation
The first step of anything here
Is knowing what we have to work with
Before anything else, these are set to record
So when we have enough information,
Things work seamlessly.
Marie won, and Callie couldn't be happier for her.
Well, okay, she could. Losing always stings a bit, but Callie wrestles that into submission as they announce the next stages. It's a good thing they've been doing this for so long, because Callie isn't paying attention to a word she says. And she thinks she has a handle on herself.
Callie knows she's popular. They both are, together and apart. And Callie's spent so much time making Marie feel good, too: evening out their flower totals, making sure they both sign every autograph, resquidding every article on Marie that comes across her page. But Callie is loud, and excitable, and all her fans know she loves gifts and autographs and ask for them. Marie likes them, too, but she doesn't get as many because she doesn't show it.
Still, Callie will feel better when she can see people still love her, too. So when the camera clicks off, she turns to Marie. "Presents now?"
Marie leads the way to the hall, then presses her hands against dark-inked cheeks. "I need some time to recover. I'll be in the dressing room."
Callie can understand that, so she slings an arm over Marie's shoulder. "We only have to do two more announcements, then we can go home and sleep again. Stop by the viewing room before the next announcements? Your fans'll want to see you."
Callie notes with interest that Mar's blush deepens when Callie mentions her fans. "Gimme an hour. But I bet there's loads of flowers to put in vases, and you can start on your own pile. I know you want to."
Boy, does Callie ever. She's bouncing on her toes, energy racing through her she can't contain completely. She knows people were throwing flowers at her truck all splatfest, and little packages and letters, all of which were gathered up for them to look through after the results. Some people even gave them to the driver of each van, paid to do nothing but sit there and make sure it doesn't move, which is how Cal got her entire pillow collection. There's gotta be lots of stuff there today.
Nothing like presents to soothe away disappointment, and Callie's happy for Marie. Really. Marie deserves it. And Callie knows she'll be fine in a week, but shell, she wants to be fine today!
So she goes without Marie, over to the viewing room, and flings open the door and hits the button that lets her hear people outside and just stands there for a minute, basking in the 'There's our Cal!' and 'I won fifty battles for you!' and even a 'You still won my heart!' yelled over the indecipherable mass of cheering. This is why she's a singer, a pop star, and why she's gonna go into tv and movies. Because she knows everyone cheering for her is as happy with her as she is with them.
Who cares about splatfests? Especially with a massive pile of presents waiting, overflowing the table and onto the floor around it. Callie's fingers itch to dig in.
At last, Callie hits the button to turn off the sound outside, and the one next to it that turns on the speakers. "Thank you all so much!" she calls, beaming to her fans—and the others. "And go Team Marie! Marie is amazing, and wonderful, and the best sister in the world—I'm glad she won." She can see the effect of her words as jellies wave their arms and inklings jump up and down. "I'm a little sad I lost—losing's never fun—but I can't be sad Marie won. And if I'm not sad about it, none of you can be sad about it. Got that?"
The balcony outside her window is full, but there are two cameras set up on the railing, projecting to the dance vans below for everyone who can't fit, and Callie can tell even from here the square is packed. Excellent.
Time to get on those presents. "Marie will be here soon; she needs some her-time after winning," Callie says. "But sorting through the flowers can't wait, so let's get started!" And with that, Callie opens the door and does two things: checks that the light above the door is on—good, Marie will know everyone can hear her—and asks the intern for a dozen vases to start with, four each in pink, green, and white.
By the time Callie's done, a full thirty-six vases stand: sixteen white, eleven green, nine pink, though the last of each isn't quite full. Cal lines them up in front of the glass. She sorted the pile as she hunted for flowers, cheerfully putting gifts marked for Marie in a pile by her chair, and gifts for both of them on the table, but the pile behind her own chair is massive, bigger than Squidmas and her birthday and last splatfest combined.
Who cares about losing? Not her, that's for sure. Now Mar knows just how much she's loved, which Callie never doubted, and there are presents!
The first of which, she doesn't even know why anyone bothered to wrap, as Callie opens a pillow big enough to be a couch. She promptly abandons her chair to lounge on it, grinning and thanking whoever-it-is because that makes one pillow every splatfest in a different size and whoever did this is a treasure. She and Marie will take turns reading the notes and letters aloud tomorrow, she promises, unless they're marked as private, but there are more anonymous gifts to get through so now that she's comfortable let's do it!
There's enough cookies and junk food to make her mouth water, but she holds off because no one bothered to wrap the sheet cake with icing-art of her and Marie dancing together, and as soon as Marie's here she's insisting they have as much cake as they can eat instead of dinner.
She's also got some fresh new shoes, it looks like at least a dozen people threw their shirts at her (the first time they did this and Cal saw a shirt she laughed until she cried), some underthings she hastily buries under the other clothing, and she's unwrapped three excellent drawings and one even better one done in crayon (that got hung up immediately) when she uncovers a small black case, a bit smaller than her two hands, with a single pink ribbon wrapped around it marking it for her.
When Callie cracks it open, she actually squeals out loud. A gorgeous pair of shades sit there, fresh as anything and sleek to fit her face wonderfully, with a few little LED's that look like those light-up clothes she saw this winter, so she can wear them even in the dark. "New shades!" she calls, looking up and seeing people laugh at her. She closes the case and makes a heart out of her hands. "I can't wait to wear them!"
The door opens behind her. Callie half rolls-over to see Marie standing there, blinking at it all. "Another pillow, Cal?" she asks, striding past her pile of presents into the room. "And are there any flowers left in all Inkopolis?"
"Probably not," Callie says, getting to her feet. "We have to decorate everywhere with them."
"No we don't."
"Yes we do. Look! A cake! For us!" Callie almost bounces back to her seat. "Can we eat it now?"
Marie waves at the crowd, no doubt shouting again though they can't hear it. "We'll have a slice or two after supper."
"No, instead of supper. Come on, Mar, it's for us!"