Over the next few weeks cast members visited daily, much to the awe of the nurse. Mark hardly left Nina's side, going home only when the doctors chased him out and twice a day for the show.
He had not even wanted to leave then, but Nina insisted that having an understudy as Eponine was enough for one show. Diana was again Fantine. Mark daily told Nina of the anxious crowd of girls that always accumulated near the stage door, desperate for news of their favorite Fantine – soon to be Eponine.
Late one night after a visit, Scott was walking home with his hands shoved deep into the pockets of his brown leather jacket, humming On My Own. He stopped in the middle of the sidewalk and sighed loudly.
"Girl trouble?" asked a quiet voice from the shadows.
Scott whirled around to see a stranger clutching a little plastic bag. The man reminded him of Thénardier: thin, bent, and greasy. It was impossible to guess his age – he may have been twenty, but he may have been fifty.
"S'matter, friend? You got the question; I want your answer. Having girl trouble?"
Scott looked down at the sidewalk, nodding.
"I can help you." He held out the little bag. Scott could see what looked like a little blue pill in the bottom.
"What is it?"
"You don't trust me? You put this in her drink, see, and she's yours, no harm done. I swear by morning she won't remember a thing," the man said, winking.
Scott gasped. "That's sick!"
"Listen to me," the stranger hissed. "Take this now! I wanna stay at the shelter tonight, but they'll check me and find it and won't let me in! Just get it off me – I don't care what you do with it!"
He shoved the bag into Scott's hand and dissolved into the shadows.
Scott stared at the blue pill. Could he just drop it and run? No... if it really was illegal, someone could find it and turn it in, and it had his fingerprints on it. He had to get rid of it somehow. He eventually decided he'd take it home and dump the little pill into a glass of water, let it dissolve, and pour it down the sink. Then he could throw the bag into the trash. It was elaborate, but it was safe. Scott shoved the plastic bag into the pocket of his brown leather jacket and continued his walk home.
A block later, as he was passing a bar, the door swung open and a rough looking man came out, his arm around a pretty little Asian girl.
Scott stared in disbelief. "Danielle?"
"Who're you?" the man asked.
The girl's face turned red. "Oh God! It's Scott!"
"You're the famous Scott?" the man said incredulously. "Danny, he's just a pretty-boy pansy!"
"Danielle! Listen to me, Danielle, please! I didn't-"
The man took a step toward him. "You leave my girl alone, hear me?"
Danielle giggled. "Hush, Jim, I'm not your girl."
"You are for tonight anyway."
Scott's eyes widened. "Danielle!"
She looked sadly at Scott. "Come on, Jim."
They started to walk away. Scott stood frozen in front of the bar, his eyes fixed on Danielle. When the couple was about a block away, she looked over her shoulder at Scott, saw him watching her, and quickly leaned over to kiss the man on the cheek. Scott turned away.
The little blue pill was driven completely from his mind. It remained in the pocket of his brown leather jacket.
A/N- Ooh... this was a very PG chapter... -immature giggling- And it was ominous! Drugs and Danielle! Muahahaha! So...
nebulia- Pretty sad, aren't they? Well, they tried, anyway. I don't know, if I just thought I saw one of my friends get killed I think I'd be an idiot too.
Danica Enjolras- Okay, when I'm done with the threquel I will officially and legally give you Rob. The nurse was sort of me... except... a nurse.
La Pamplemousse- I love my Squishy. He's very hot and he will probably be my stand partner next year in orchestra -big happy face-
Mlle Verity le Virago- That's the plan! Oh, you'll see about Bri later... you know what? That kind of rhymed. Do you plan to see any shows at that theatre in Raleigh in the future? I wanna see Little Shop of Horrors and... ooh... I forgot...
Elyse3- Can do. -military salute- I'd offer to let you officially have him when I finish the threquel, but I think he'll be necessary for... other things in his fictitious life. Not that I'm going to write another one after the threquel.
RoseMisre- Probably... I wish I'd been there... it would've been quite funny. My favorite mental image is Cosette tripping during Valjean's death scene.
He had not even wanted to leave then, but Nina insisted that having an understudy as Eponine was enough for one show. Diana was again Fantine. Mark daily told Nina of the anxious crowd of girls that always accumulated near the stage door, desperate for news of their favorite Fantine – soon to be Eponine.
Late one night after a visit, Scott was walking home with his hands shoved deep into the pockets of his brown leather jacket, humming On My Own. He stopped in the middle of the sidewalk and sighed loudly.
"Girl trouble?" asked a quiet voice from the shadows.
Scott whirled around to see a stranger clutching a little plastic bag. The man reminded him of Thénardier: thin, bent, and greasy. It was impossible to guess his age – he may have been twenty, but he may have been fifty.
"S'matter, friend? You got the question; I want your answer. Having girl trouble?"
Scott looked down at the sidewalk, nodding.
"I can help you." He held out the little bag. Scott could see what looked like a little blue pill in the bottom.
"What is it?"
"You don't trust me? You put this in her drink, see, and she's yours, no harm done. I swear by morning she won't remember a thing," the man said, winking.
Scott gasped. "That's sick!"
"Listen to me," the stranger hissed. "Take this now! I wanna stay at the shelter tonight, but they'll check me and find it and won't let me in! Just get it off me – I don't care what you do with it!"
He shoved the bag into Scott's hand and dissolved into the shadows.
Scott stared at the blue pill. Could he just drop it and run? No... if it really was illegal, someone could find it and turn it in, and it had his fingerprints on it. He had to get rid of it somehow. He eventually decided he'd take it home and dump the little pill into a glass of water, let it dissolve, and pour it down the sink. Then he could throw the bag into the trash. It was elaborate, but it was safe. Scott shoved the plastic bag into the pocket of his brown leather jacket and continued his walk home.
A block later, as he was passing a bar, the door swung open and a rough looking man came out, his arm around a pretty little Asian girl.
Scott stared in disbelief. "Danielle?"
"Who're you?" the man asked.
The girl's face turned red. "Oh God! It's Scott!"
"You're the famous Scott?" the man said incredulously. "Danny, he's just a pretty-boy pansy!"
"Danielle! Listen to me, Danielle, please! I didn't-"
The man took a step toward him. "You leave my girl alone, hear me?"
Danielle giggled. "Hush, Jim, I'm not your girl."
"You are for tonight anyway."
Scott's eyes widened. "Danielle!"
She looked sadly at Scott. "Come on, Jim."
They started to walk away. Scott stood frozen in front of the bar, his eyes fixed on Danielle. When the couple was about a block away, she looked over her shoulder at Scott, saw him watching her, and quickly leaned over to kiss the man on the cheek. Scott turned away.
The little blue pill was driven completely from his mind. It remained in the pocket of his brown leather jacket.
A/N- Ooh... this was a very PG chapter... -immature giggling- And it was ominous! Drugs and Danielle! Muahahaha! So...
nebulia- Pretty sad, aren't they? Well, they tried, anyway. I don't know, if I just thought I saw one of my friends get killed I think I'd be an idiot too.
Danica Enjolras- Okay, when I'm done with the threquel I will officially and legally give you Rob. The nurse was sort of me... except... a nurse.
La Pamplemousse- I love my Squishy. He's very hot and he will probably be my stand partner next year in orchestra -big happy face-
Mlle Verity le Virago- That's the plan! Oh, you'll see about Bri later... you know what? That kind of rhymed. Do you plan to see any shows at that theatre in Raleigh in the future? I wanna see Little Shop of Horrors and... ooh... I forgot...
Elyse3- Can do. -military salute- I'd offer to let you officially have him when I finish the threquel, but I think he'll be necessary for... other things in his fictitious life. Not that I'm going to write another one after the threquel.
RoseMisre- Probably... I wish I'd been there... it would've been quite funny. My favorite mental image is Cosette tripping during Valjean's death scene.