"Why did you even rope me into this?" Deborah complained, right hand clutching her left elbow in a display of discomfort.
"I'm not asking you to force a friendship, I just want you to see that she's not as bad as you think she is," Ambrose replied gently.
"I've met her several times already and I still don't—!"
"Seeing her in passing and glaring at her does not count as meeting her," Ambrose smiled dryly. "You need an actual interaction. I just want you two to reach a point where you can at least stand to be in the same general vicinity. I'm not asking you to make this a regular thing."
Deborah pouted, but he held her gaze. After a moment, she looked away, uncomfortable. "Very well," she muttered. "I'll entertain Jekyll just this once, but if it doesn't work, you never ask us to do this ever again." And you never speak her name in my presence ever again either.
"Deal," Ambrose promised solemnly, but a second later, his face softened. "Come on, Deborah, you have nothing to fear."
Except having to watch her drool over you, and possibly you over her.
Maybe Deborah and Ambrose weren't technically a couple, but if it wasn't clear by this point, Deborah certainly wanted them to be. The deal was set, though, so Deborah had no choice but to accept it. In six hours, they'd be on a large, fancy cruise ship that would sail up and down the coast all night long. It was just another way for members of high society to flaunt their wealth: late-night parties on fancy boats. Ambrose hoped the party atmosphere would make to easier for Angela and Deborah to relax around one another.
As he told Deborah, he wasn't going to force them into a friendship, but he did want them to at least tolerate each other. It would make life easier for all of them. He also didn't like seeing his two closest friends at such bitter odds, especially since they didn't really know each other. If they had to be enemies, at least let them be sure of it before they started fighting.
ooo
Six hours later, Deborah was on the upper deck of a large, magnificent ship, overlooking the pitch-black waters and the silvery city skyline. Six seconds later, she saw Ambrose climbing the stairs to the upper deck. There was another woman beside him. Deborah's stomach tightened.
"Hey, Deborah!" Ambrose smiled and opened his arms. She gave him an unreadable look before accepting the hug. It felt awkward, knowing Angela was right there and watching them.
"Jekyll," she nodded curtly once she withdrew her arms from Ambrose.
"Ms. Lavish," Angela mirrored the gesture, though her tone was much softer.
Ambrose looked back and forth between them. "Well, are you two ladies enjoying your evening, so far?"
"Oh, yes, it's been lovely!" Angela perked up in response to his voice.
"Mmm," Deborah gave one curt nod of agreement. Ambrose gave her a look, chiding but gentle. Deborah exhaled slowly through her nose. "Well now, shall we head down to the bar and get a few drinks?" Maybe she'd be chattier with a bit of alcohol in her. "You drink, don't you, Jekyll?" she cast a disdainful glance at the tiny doctor. "Or would alcohol be too… overwhelming for you?"
"Oh, uhh, I don't normally drink, but of course I can make an exception for tonight!" Angela tried hopefully. Deborah narrowed her eyes but said nothing. Instead, she gestured for them to follow as she led them back down one deck to where the bar awaited them.
A couple drinks and hours later, Ambrose was lost in the crowd, having met up with some of his old buddies. This left Angela and Deborah alone together with only alcohol for company.
"You're not much of a party girl, are you?" Deborah remarked as she looked down at Angela's rather unimpressive outfit. It wasn't ugly, per se, but it was far less extravagant and, well, lavish, than what everyone else on the boat was wearing.
"Oh! Uhh, no, no I'm not. I'm usually back home at my lab," Angela said sheepishly, suddenly looking very self-conscious.
"What do you do all day down there?" Deborah asked, in disbelief that anyone could enjoy a life cooped up in a lab.
"Oh! Well, uhhh, I study neuroscience!" said Angela, looking surprised that Deborah had even asked.
"Oh, isn't that… brain stuff?" Deborah asked. Angela may not have realized it, but the alcohol was definitely starting to kick in for old Deborah.
"Mmhmm," Angela nodded. Unlike Deborah, she'd hardly touched her drink, much too scared to get drunk around the singer. What if she did something stupid or embarrassing? Or made Deborah mad? She barely trusted herself sober right now!
Eager to please, Angela launched into a spiel about her research. Deborah zoned out about halfway through, the alcohol making it hard for her to focus, but for once, that was almost to their benefit. Had Deborah been more sober, she may not have been as tolerant of Angela's rambling. But somewhere along the way, Angela happened to mention some of the disputes currently going on within the scientific community.
That drama was nowhere near as bad as what Deborah had to face on a near-daily basis, but it amused the singer to imagine the scientist fighting her own battles with the press as she tried to justify her experimentation and argue how it might benefit the world. It wasn't too different from Deborah trying to carve out more airtime for herself so that she could spread her music and modeling farther and farther.
Angela was not a celebrity in her field, but the research she'd recently started was ambitious. Her end game was a personality-altering serum, although she was still on step one, just trying to ascertain what neurological mechanisms she needed to focus on. In other words, she was a trailblazer, but still at the very start of the trail. Deborah, as a young and rising star striving to make a name for herself, could identify with that.
And just like Deborah, Angela had a few "enemies", rival scientists or funders who were hesitant to give her a cut of their money. It looked like Deborah wasn't the only one familiar with dirty dealings after all.
"So, you and me, we got big reputations, huh?" Deborah suddenly asked. "You got some big enemies, just like me…" she looked at Angela with new interest. Maybe this night wouldn't be such a bust after all…
Ooh, you and me would be a big conversation! But d'you like the bad ones, too?
A couple more drinks and hours later, the night was ending very differently than it began. The tune of Deborah's song changed.
I don't wanna be just another ex-love you don't wanna see. I don't wanna miss you like your other loves do. I don't wanna hurt you, I just wanna be drinking on a beach with you all over me. I know what they all say, but I ain't tryna play… Think I wanna be your end game!
Deborah's memory slipped in and out of focus. She remembered a bubbly golden haze of nightlights and champagne. There was a bass beat pulsing in the air and her body moved in perfect sync with it. She remembered Angela being on her right and Ambrose on her left. Everything was a little blurry, so she didn't remember too much of what was said or done, but she did remember Ambrose touching her arm proudly as he raised a glass to her and Angela, and she vaguely remembered throwing her own arm around Angela's shoulders.
By this time, Angela was starting to get a little tipsy too, but that was only because she was an extreme lightweight. The moment she felt Deborah clap her heavily on the shoulder, she stumbled and giggled before raising her half-empty glass in return. Deborah's hand seemed to shoot forward without her consent as she clumsily clinked the edge of her glass against Angela's.
Both of them, and Ambrose, laughed again. He sighed happily; just as he'd predicted, the two got along. They may have been wildly different outwardly, but as someone who knew both of them very well, Ambrose could confidently say that they actually had a lot more common than it seemed. Now, they were starting to see it, too.
Knew her when I was young, reconnected when we were little bit older, both sprung. Reputation precedes me, in rumors, we're knee-deep. The truth is, it's easier to ignore it, believe me. But even when we'd argue, we'd not do it for long, and you understand the good and bad end up in the song. For all your beautiful traits, and the way you do it with ease, for all my flaws, paranoia, and insecurities, I've made mistakes and made some choices, that's hard to deny. After the storm, something was born on the 4th of July! I've passed days without fun, but this end game is the one.
Deborah managed to find a karaoke stage on one of the lower decks of the ship and, before any of them knew it, they were twisting and turning and twirling with the melody and harmony. Even though she was drunk, Deborah was still sober enough to stand proud and tall. At the base of the stage, Ambrose was comically waving a bottle slowly back and forth through the air. Angela was beside him, practically jumping up and down, applauding Deborah even though she hadn't even started singing yet. But once she did, Angela wasn't the only one who was cheering.
"I hit you like "bang!", we tried to forget it, but we just couldn't, and I bury hatchets, but I keep maps of where I put 'em. Reputation precedes me, they told you I'm crazy, I swear I don't love the drama, it loves me!" Deborah flashed a smile and winked at the crowd who went roaring in response. Then she turned to Angela and Ambrose, "And I can't let you go, two handprints on my soul, it's like your eyes are liquor, it's like your body is gold. You've been calling my bluff on all my usual tricks, so here's the truth from my red lips!" She blew a kiss to the pair.
I wanna be your end game, I wanna be your first string, I wanna be your A-team, I wanna be your end game, end game!
But even after the song ended, the party carried on for many hours more. The bass beat acted like the ship's pulse, keeping the energy alive even into the late morning hours. Big reputation, big reputation, ooh, you and me we got big reputations…
They continued to sing, dance and play, managing to find an arcade to waste even more time and money on. At one point, Deborah was even bold enough to pick Angela up and actually give her a piggyback ride around part of the ship.
"Hop on," Deborah was incredibly drunk by this point.
"Ok!" Angela was as well. She hopped onto Deborah's back, and they bellowed with laughter as Deborah took her along the length of the deck.
"What the—?" Ambrose was so struck by what he was seeing that he wasn't even sure how to process it. How drunk am I if this is what I'm seeing right now? Am I hallucinating? This only made the ladies laugh louder.
The trio explored every inch of every deck together. They laughed, sang, danced, and drank, finding all sorts of fun things they could do. Sometimes they would move together, sometimes they would drift apart, but they always managed to find one another again in the end. Before Deborah even knew it, Angela was hanging onto Ambrose's shoulders again, but this time, she found it adorable instead of grating.
Big reputation, big reputation, ooh, you and me will be a big conversation! So tell me you like the bad ones, too!
It was a strange alliance formed in the strangest of circumstances, but for once, Deborah was eager to see the end game.