Chapter 3: Gray
The morning Velma Kelly saw through the windows of the taxi was a dreary one. Heavy clouds and skies blurred the world through the dirty glass into shades of gray, weighing down upon the lively city and turning sharp colors and smells into dull neutral, promising rain. Velma thought it was funny in a way, not that she was laughing. The weather couldn't have forecasted her own mood any better.
But at the moment, she wasn't quite sure what annoyed her more, the kindred gray clouds out the window or the infallibly perky, and currently chattering blond half-pint to her right. She had no clue what Roxie was talking about, but that was all fine and dandy, because she got the impression that neither did Roxie. I hope she doesn't swallow her tongue, she thought petulantly, glaring at her partner's ever-present sugary smile as she chirped on like no tomorrow.
Even after having several long months to get used to the younger girl's certain flightiness, Velma's relationship with Roxie was on and off as much as their names sang and danced their way in and out of in papers.
Some days they laughed and teased each other like giddy schoolgirls, as tight-knit as sisters- Velma winced inwardly and searched for another word- and then the sun went down, and Velma had to sit on her hands to keep herself from committing another murder.
And unfortunately, at this moment, as Roxie let out a vivid giggle for no apparent reason, Velma felt more like doing the latter. Instantaneously, she decided the oppressive weather would be a better waste of her remaining sanity than her giggling alter ego.
In her current disposition, Roxie's giddiness and her gloom mixed just about as well as loud noises and hangovers, and Velma had definitely had enough of those to know what she was talking about.
Velma looked up into her partner's face as her laugh broke on a nervous pitch. Sometimes she swore the only reason they bothered with talking was because Roxie would go postal if her tongue didn't get its daily workout, because she could see right through Roxie. When you were dance partners, learning to read each other's body language like a neon sign was next to inevitable.
Please, pleeease, said Roxie's eyes, reminding Velma forcefully of a puppy begging for a game of fetch. You can at least pretend everything's OK! Just talk and play along! Come on, Vel, you're scaring me here!
Velma felt a sudden jolt. So, little Miss Hart could see right through her, too. She wasn't sure she liked that idea. No. She admitted to herself what she would never say aloud. I don' t dislike it. It scares me stupid.
The two flappers stared each other down like two avid card players, each trying to see behind the other's poker face.
Velma's face was cool and expressionless, unnaturally so. And Roxie knew from experience that this usually meant she was hiding something. With Velma, it was the cooler the façade, the bigger the dilemma. And Roxie wanted to know what it was. She was sick of trying to fill the silence in the car on her own, while she watched her icy counterpart surround her pain with walls of stony composure.
She just wanted to hear Velma tell her that she was sadly mistaken, and everything was fine. But no, she admitted to herself. She didn't just want to hear Velma tell her she was all right. She also wanted to be able to believe it. She gave the older woman a pleading look.
Roxie's face was tense, and her eyes were overlarge. Those were the puppy eyes if Velma had ever seen them, and rest assured, she had. As far as she was concerned, Roxie might as well have just said, "Come on, Vel. Pretend everything's just jake, even though we both know it isn't. It's not like your personal problems really even matter as long as I can look cute as a button while we make a thou or two." She knew Roxie would never actually say that, but from the way she was acting, she might as well have.
Heavily hooded black eyes met liquid blue ones. Play dead, Roxie. I'm in no mood for charades. The wide dark eyes narrowed, but Velma didn't blink. Roxie was the first to flinch and look away.
"What's eating you?" the smaller girl burst irritably, still not looking her broad-shouldered comrade directly in the eyes.
"What do you mean?" Velma idly examined a formidably pointed blood-red nail. The syllables blended together lazily like the purring of a cat. She smiled bitterly to herself. If playing pretend were an Olympic sport...
Roxie felt all the more flustered. It was the answer she'd wanted to hear, make no mistake but not one she found the least bit convincing. And somehow, that only made things seem worse.
"Well, aren't you a live wire today! You," said Roxie, bad temper growing, "haven't said half a word to me all morning! That's what I mean!"
"Why bother? You were doing plenty enough talking for the both of us."
Despite herself, a smile was beginning to curl her lips. She'd always privately thought it was funny when Roxie got mad. "Dry up, OK? I've got plenty of words direct from me to you, if you really want to hear them."
She smiled in that rather evil looking way that would have sent anyone who didn't know Velma Kelly running like hell in the other direction. But even someone who didn't know Velma Kelly would have been able to tell that she was beating around the bush. Drop it and leave it alone, her eyes said.
Roxie made an indignant noise in her throat. Wrong answer. "For crying out loud, Velma! There's something that you just ain't telling me. Just admit it for chrissake!"
"Screw off. It's nothing to you."
Roxie's childlike face was set and serious, and any trace of a smile had vanished from Velma's. The chauffeur came around to open the doors of the car. But just before the slamming of two car doors cut off their conversation, voice soft, Roxie let the last shot fly.
"That's where you're wrong."
Oooooo, DRAMA! I just have to say, I hope you guys appreciate this chapter, because I went to hell (Michigan) and back to get it out for you! Not only have I been writing at midnight, cuz a.) that's when I'm inspired and b.) I have no other time, but I've been forced to write while my jock brother and his jock friends play an insane combo of tackle football and hide and go seek around me, so it would really make me feel loved if you reviewed this chapter! ;)
But thank you so much for your reviews, cuz they rock my world! And a special thanks to my soul sista Vikki Kelly, because it makes me feel so friggin' awesome that someone I think rocks also thinks I rock, if that makes any sense at all. (Hold hands now everyone, so you don't get lost!) I love to hear the sound of my voice way too much sometimes... So I hope you enjoyed the chapter, even though this last part prob'ly scared you away!