Helmutt Hoffmann: Well, who needs Revolutionaries when the Revolution has already been achieved?
~ A Movie
They're not bad people, they just like Hollywood.
She's been a performer all her life. "Yes, Black, I'm doing well." "No, Black...he's a good guy." And she's good at it too. With cotton candy pink lips that pout when she doesn't get her way and dark black hair that's always all over the place. And she works with Rodolphus in the bars and they sing sometimes. Old tunes. Then they'll get free drinks--almost always Ogden's fire whisky or butterbeer if she's tired.
He loves the limelight and often the two compete for attention. She'll run his sentences off and he'll jump in front of her and speak louder. They're performers at heart, you know. He has silly, wavy black hair that falls nicely into his crystal eyes and he could have any girl he wants, she thinks.
But he wants her.
He's afraid of her cousin, like he should be and she's worried about tomorrow, like she should be. Rodolphus asks her sometimes: "Do you wanna dance?" And she laughs like she's young again and the hair falls around her face, framing it like a crown: "When have I ever not wanted to?"
He buys her silver bracelets that are engraved with the words 'Hope' and one says 'Tragedy' and she wears them both. He says he got them for half price after poker night on Wednesday. He carries her in his arms and she chuckles, "Bet you they wear wild things like this in Hollywood."
"Pretty rich things," he mutters into her apricot smelling hair. "Pretty little rich girls."
And she laughs like she's not on stage and kisses his cheek.
They have many competitions. Like, who can eat the most licorice wands? Who can scream the loudest in a dark alleyway? Who can curl their hair more?
...who can get to Hollywood first.
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