It wasn't, she thought, as if she'd ever liked Roxie to begin with. She'd hated her. But that had been an . . . amiable sort of hatred. I hate you, you hate me, we'll do the show, spit insults at each other, and go home. Things were different now.

Thing was, she didn't need Roxie anymore. And Roxie didn't need her. They'd both made it big enough, and then . . . then too big. She was amazed, sometimes, that they could even fit on the same stage. Of course, Roxie added something. A little extra sparkle, maybe. The guys liked watching her. They liked watching Velma too, but it was better for them, watching Roxie and Velma.

So, maybe she did need Roxie after all. Maybe.

But she sure as hell didn't want to.

So she had to do something so she wouldn't need the kid.

Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Roxie pouting at the mirror. It wasn't that she was in love with herself- hell, Velma was in love with herself, it was just healthy to be in love with yourself, in show business- it was that she was so goofy about it. You could practically see dance sequences flashing through her head. And Velma was sick of it. Not because she'd never choreographed a show behind her eyelids, but because she'd learned to play it cool. You did, after a while. And it was so dumb, seeing girls like Roxie who didn't know how to work that and made it big anyway.

Well, there was no point waiting. She might as well do something about it now, and then she could have the show to herself. It had been nice, that one night, before they came to arrest her. Up there all alone, every eye in the room on her and loving her.

"Hey," Velma said.

Yeah, it was time. Time to do something.

"Yeah?" Roxie slicked another coat of lipstick on.

Velma took a drag on her cigarette, blowing the smoke at her. She watched it creep over Roxie's platinum hair and bared shoulders. "Roxie, I've been thinking. I'm back on my feet now, right? I could practically go solo. It's just . . . I need something big. Something to start me off with a bang, right?"

"Wha-"

Bang.

That night they hauled Velma offstage grinning.

"Hey," she said later,"Hey, Billy. You think I got enough for a solo act?"

He pulled the wad of money out of her hand, giving her face a long look through the bars. "Well, you certainly got your name out," he replied.

"Yeah," she said cheerfully. "Yeah, I guess I did."