The Request

Apple couldn't help but feel nervous as she waited for Rotbart to pick up the phone. Normally, Apple could get any boy to come to her aid with a bat of her large, blue eyes and a toss of her sunny, soft curls. But Rotbart Von Schwartz wasn't like most boys. He was completely immune to Apple's princess charms and deep down, Apple knew sweet-talking him would be futile. And even though he had promised not to poison her until she had secured true love, had helped her get back at her cheating ex-prince, and saved her life two times (three times if she counted the whole not-killing-her-until-she-had-a-replacement-for-Daring thing), he was still her antagonist and proud of it. He could, and very well might, just turn down her request for the pure joy of making her suffer.

But then again, he might not. Apple thought to herself hopefully. She sighed in frustration as she realized that the only thing more nerve-wracking than an annoying, cunning, hardcore villain was an unpredictable, annoying, cunning, hardcore villain.

"Hello, Princess." Rotbart's answered. He sounded so calm and collected, Apple had no idea that he was completely baffled by her calling him out of the blue.

"Hello Rotbart." Apple said awkwardly. "Erm...how are you?"

"Fine. And you?" He replied noncommittally.

"Oh...you know...fine..." Apple fibbed.

"Uh-huh." He said flatly.

Apple immediately felt herself bristle at his vaguely sarcastic tone. "I AM fine!" She insisted.

"Of course." He replied airily.

"I'm completely fine!"

"Naturally." This response only irritated her more.

"I'm just peachy keen!" She declared defensively.

"Glad to hear it." Rotbart said dryly. "Anything else you want to share?"

"No!" Apple snapped.

"Good. Goodbye."

"WAIT!" Apple half-shrieked.

"Arrgh...WHAT?!" Rotbart growled. He was in no mood for stupid princess airs today.

Apple took a breath and prepared to swallow her immense pride: "Ineedyourhelp." She admitted in a rush. And she braced herself for snide comments, laughter, mockery, gloating, and/or rejection.

"...You what?" Rotbart asked. This time, he couldn't hide his surprise.

"I need your help." Apple repeated.

"With WHAT?" He wanted to know.

"Dancing." Apple said shortly.

"Dancing?!"

"Yes."

"You want ME to teach YOU how to dance?!"

"NO!" Apple's defensiveness involuntarily resurfaced. "I mean, I DO know how to dance, I just want to...get better at it..."

"Hey, if you want to stomp on someone's toes, go ask Mr. Woody-two-shoes." Rotbart retorted.

"Believe me, I SO rather ask Nate!" Apple snapped. "But I can't!"

"Why not?" Rotbart challenged. "His guard dog won't let you?"

"YES!" Apple blurted out. "Her, and Duchess, and EVERYBODY is against me!" She griped.

"Oh, come on Princess, nobody's against you."

"But they ARE!" Apple insisted.

"But you bring people SO much joy..."

"Well, yes..." Apple admitted; she felt slightly mollified by Rotbart's unexpected goodwill.

"...Especially when you leave the room." He finished. He just couldn't let an insult like that pass.

And neither could Apple. "Why you..." She began.

"Not so easy when people don't just fall at your feet, is it, Princess?" He remarked. "Or is it when you fall at their feet?" He hit a nerve and he knew it. And he rather liked the idea of more people not just blindly fawning over Apple White's alleged radiance.

"ENOUGH!" Apple shouted. She felt furious, but one thing kept her from hanging up on that asshole right there and then. Her sheer desperation. And that desperation drove her to say:

"I've got to show them I deserve the lead. You're the only one who can help me. I'll do anything!"

The minute she uttered those words, she realized it was the wrong thing to say to a villain.