MADISON. MADDIE. MAGGIE. THE MYSTICAL MISS ESMERALDA. A character that the blonde had played on a short television miniseries, sure, but also an embodiment of everything Madison was afraid of portraying in the end. She was meek, and callous, and spoke what she wanted as truth, but only after disaster struck and left her 'partner' without hands. A con-artist on the outside; a sad, lonely woman looking for somewhere to call home— family, even— on the inside.
Maggie folded into herself, the pain and sadness highly evident through her body language and facial features. It was a look Corey had only ever seen a handful of times. The night Madison's mother had sent her to jail; Fiona's first two nights back at the academy; the night the blonde had spent with Corey and Stevie in the recording studio; the night Madison realized that nothing her mother ever said to her would change the way she felt for Corey.
They'd grown stronger, both together and as individuals, in the time between filming the miniseries and where they were currently, but it didn't make Corey any less emotional. Her lip slipped between her teeth as she watched Maggie practically cowering, taking a seat on the bed next to Jimmy. The blonde's lip quivered as she looked down at the boy with his nubs wrapped in bloodied gauze, forcing a smile. When he returned her small attempt at civility with an angry lip curl, Corey moved her knuckles to rest against her chin.
Usually, she'd be watching these things with Madison, but this was a role that was painful for her to portray. With the blonde seemingly angry with her, Corey took it upon herself to finish the thirteen episode story-arc on her own. The redhead made sure that, no matter what, she supported the other girl's career just as much as— if not more than— the blonde supported her own. That included the viewing of any projects she participated in, no matter what the material entailed.
She pulled her laptop closer to her face, laid back in an awkward position on her bed with the covers pulled up over her chest. The brightness from the monitor was the only illumination in the room, covering the girl's face in a bright white light as she adjusted her position, headphones secured over her ears.
"I'm sorry. I hate hurting you."
Maggie had pulled off the dirty bandages and sterilized the wound with pure alcohol, leading Jimmy to let out a painful yowl. She calmed her breathing, an attempt to keep herself from breaking. Corey sniffled, flexing her fingers so that they rested against her face.
"Oh, really? I thought that was your whole gig— to hurt people."
Jimmy refused to look at Maggie, which caused the pain in her face to roll into anger before transitioning into sorrow. She swallowed hard, a sad determination in her eyes that Corey hadn't ever seen before.
"I love you, Jimmy. That part is real. It always was. I want a clean start. We can still go to New York like we planned. Why not?"
Corey couldn't guess how many takes Madison needed to get the scene right, having never heard the words come out of the blonde's mouth outside of the characters she portrayed on screen. She wondered if the line hit too close to home for the actress.
They'd talked about going back to the redhead's New York City apartment in the past. Corey had friends with a recording studio in the area, and the blonde could easily find auditions through her agent wherever she went. They'd spent the better part of their relationship there as roommates, though returning now would lead to pointed questions and assumptions that were, more-or-less, completely true.
It wasn't something that the blonde was ready for, and Corey didn't know if she ever would be. She wasn't even sure if Madison knew the feeling at all, being in love. Part of her hoped she did, having spent a good portion of their time together knowing that she was undoubtedly in love with the actress. Eighteen tracks, all partially penned in-studio, were enough for anyone to know it was the truth.
She could tell by the hesitation in the blonde's voice that she was unsure of the line, unable to decipher the truth from the character in that moment. Maybe it was a creative choice made by herself or the director. Either way, Corey could feel her heart drop at the words, the look on Maggie's face as she delivered the lines, the anxiousness in the girl's body language. Every element of the character's portrayal made the redhead want to pull her counterpart into a tight embrace.
"You're kidding, right? You think after everything you've done, you think we're just going to ride off into the sunset? My hands are in a goddamn jar, and that's all because of you."
"I am so sorry. I'm gonna make it right with you and with them. I promise."
A smile peeked at the corners of Maggie's lips, causing Corey's lip to quiver ever so slightly. It was a slight tick that the other girl had, a signal she was uncomfortable in the situation that unraveled around her. She couldn't tell if Madison was truly uncomfortable in the situation on screen or if her body just naturally moved as the character would in that moment.
"You're gonna bring Ma Petite back from the dead? Hmm?"
"I've changed, Jimmy."
"If I was you... I'd get the hell out of Dodge before I get those new hands."
"I'm gonna make things right, with them and with you!"
Corey's headphones were still resting snugly over her ears when the alert on her cellphone screen lit up her room. The tears welled in her eyes as she watched the scene end on the blonde struggling to keep herself together. The sniffled, sitting up taller as she shifted her weight against the pile of pillows behind her. They were an aesthetic choice made by the actress, "It'll be cute, I promise!" She jumped lightly as her phone vibrated against the sheets next to her.
"Jesus Christ, Fee," she muttered. She slammed her laptop shut, hoping that the streaming service would pause the file for her to pick back up on later. She slid the headphones from their place on her head and tossed them onto the now closed device.
"What's so important that it couldn't wait until morning," she groaned. She moved the laptop from its position on her chest to the empty spot on the bed next to her. The pillow that usually held an imprinted divot of Madison's head rested unsettlingly rounded and fluffed in her peripheral. She unplugged the cellphone from its charger, more agitated than grateful as she accepted the call from her manager.
"Do you even realize how late it is?" She sighed. Her head tilted to the side as she picked at the hem on the large weighted comforter. Again, a stylistic choice made by Madison. She heard the man's gruff laugh come through the receiver and rolled her eyes.
"That's one way to thank your manager for getting you studio time," she could hear the sarcasm in the older man's voice and was more than capable of picturing his grimy image through his tone. She could hear the music of a club in the background, the continuous thudding of the excessive bass giving her a sympathetic headache. "You do have an album ready to go, right?"
Not even close.
"Of course I do," her tongue jutted out to wet her lips and she swore she saw a figure standing in her doorway. It collapsed into itself and dissolved into the darkness that surrounded it.
Madison stood just out of the other girl's line of sight, knowing she'd most likely have already removed her contact lenses this late at night. She wanted to apologize and admit her faults, but it seemed as though she'd arrived a bit too late to speak with the other girl.
"I told you that moving away with that Montgomery girl wouldn't bode well on your creative juices." The older man spat the blonde's name, which caused the redhead to become stone-like. She froze, as if defenseless. The problem wasn't a creative block, it was the fact that everything she managed to come up with would scream Madison Montgomery to anyone that dug deep enough. Anyone with more than a single brain cell would know who the songs were about, especially with the couple's constant back and forth with the media.
"Madison has nothing to do with this, Felix," she raised her voice. Her fist clenched the comforter in her hand. She knew exactly why the older man didn't share a fondness for the actress. Felix Mourningwood never took kindly to women who denied his advances, and Madison was one of those women.
The blonde backed from the doorway, her lips pursed as she nodded to herself. A frustrated post-argument Corey was never a version of her girlfriend that she wished to interact with. Especially immediately after the girl had to defend her actions or character over the phone. She wasn't even sure why she was standing just outside of redhead's bedroom to begin with. Her feet had led her to the witches room, an unspoken tether guiding her through the halls.
"Just don't disappoint me, kid." Corey could smell the wafting stench of the cigar between Felix's fingers as he adjusted the aviator glasses on the brim of his crooked nose, or so she thought. Her almost immediate association with the name Felix Mourningwood was the smell of bourbon and cheap cigar smoke; a stomach churning combination.
"Yeah," she groaned. She rolled her eyes as she threw back her covers to clamor out of bed, the immediate search for creative inspiration afoot. "I'll be there first thing with something to record." She ended the call before Felix could utter another word. She didn't want to deal with him treading through her creative process any longer now that she had a true deadline to meet. "What a fucking asshole."
Corey sat down at the piano, her glasses snug on her face, begging for inspiration to ooze from the keys. She sighed, setting up her phone to record before carelessly moving through chord progressions as she tried to find a sound she felt a connection to. It didn't take long before she was fumbling through possible lyrics. She reached forward, tossing back the glass of scotch that sat against the lid of the piano.
"And I can't talk," she started an octave too high, clearing her throat and starting over briefly.
"I can't talk to you when you're like this." Corey bounced back and forth between two chords. Her eyes moved up to lock on the chandelier above her as she dug through her mind for a full verse. Then, she remembered the miniseries she'd been watching right before her call from her manager. Again, she started over— this time with a spark of excitement in her eyes.
"I can't talk to you when you're like this, staring out the window like I'm not your favorite town." A slight smirk crept across her lips as she got into the groove of the writing process once again. "I'm New York City, I still do it for you, baby." Just when she thought she was on the cusp of finishing the first verse, she heard a guttural grunt from across the room. She jumped, a sour note ringing out from the piano as her foot remained on the sustain pedal.
"For fuck's sake Spalding," Corey exhaled slowly. She tried to collect herself as she removed her foot, the ringing of the off-chord coming to an abrupt halt. "How many times do I have to tell you not to do that shit while I'm working." She closed her eyes briefly, her head shaking as she scooted the stool away from the keys.
"What's so imp—" She reached forward and stopped the recording on her phone. Abruptly, she ended her sentence when she caught the glimpse of the overly put together woman from next door. "Ah, shit," she muttered under her breath. Her hands fell against her sides. Again, she'd trusted Madison and, again, the actress managed to knock her down yet another peg.
"Sorry," she sighed. She stood from her seat and moved across the room. "What can I do for you?" Corey stood with her hands folded in front of her, the image of a choir singer waiting for the conductor to give them their queue. Spalding grunted, letting out a hrumph as he walked out of the room.
"Joan Ramsey," the older woman took a step forward. She looked down at her feet with a nod before continuing. "My son Luke and I moved into the old colonial next door." Corey nodded in response, able to put names to the faces she'd seen a few days prior.
"Ah, yes," she gave the woman a sideways smile. Her eyes locked onto the book that the woman white-knuckled against her waist. Joan looked around frantically as the witch spoke. "I noticed the two of you unpacking the other day. Beautiful home, by the way." Corey took a step forward, offering her hand.
"Corey Luna." As if a lightbulb went off in her head, Joan's brows flicked upward slightly. She'd heard the name muttered earlier in the day, but hadn't realized that 'the heathen' had lived right next door.
"I'd like you to have this," Joan placed the book that she had been clinging against herself into Corey's outstretched hand. The redhead's brows furrowed slightly as she looked down at the book pressed against her palm. She pulled it closer as she adjusted the glasses on her face.
"I always bring a copy of the Good Book whenever I come into someone's house for the first time." The girl's thumb ran across the gold embossed lettering and floral embellishment that rested in the leather of the front cover. Almost instantly, inspiration rippled through the redhead.
We might just get away with it.
Religion's in your lips, even if it's a false god.
We'd still worship...
"Th-thank you?" She wasn't sure what to say. On one hand she was truly thankful for the spark of inspiration. On the other, she silently anticipated whatever cruel or vile things could come out of the woman's mouth without realizing the type of company she was in. Or maybe she had realized, which only made the situation worse in Corey's mind. Part of her had expected a similar reaction to that of Madison's mother, though she hoped it wouldn't be anywhere near as abhorrent.
"Anyway," Joan cleared her throat as she folded her hands in front of her, a parallel image of how they'd stood previously. "I don't know if this is a school or," she paused, taking in the atmosphere around her. "A rehab facility or what it is, but two of your girls invaded my property. One of them was dressed so scandalously I—I'm worried about the long-term effect it might have on Luke."
"I'm sorry?" Corey's brow furrowed as she tilted her head. The confusion washed over her features almost immediately. Invaded her property? She almost didn't catch the mention of Madison and what she'd been wearing.
"I—" She cleared her throat, shaking her head. "I watched both of those girls before they walked out the door. Something isn't 'scandalous' just because it doesn't cover ninety percent of your skin." The witch talked with her book-hand as she crossed her other arm over her chest, her hip jutted out in a judgmental manner.
"Ooh, she was wearing something you didn't like, big fucking whoop. These girls don't have to dress to impress anyone but themselves, and they struggle to do even that on most days." Corey paused, able to hear the footsteps she'd memorized echoing closer.
"I will never understand you Bible-thumpers and your hypocrisy towards sex and self-expression. I know, behind closed doors, you are the biggest perverts of all." The redhead narrowed her eyes at the woman. She wouldn't allow anyone to talk down about the other girls, especially not about Madison.
"Your student threw a knife at me! It missed my head by three inches." Joan raised her voice, causing Corey to roll her eyes. The girl stepped away, placing the book on top of the piano before pouring herself another glass scotch.
"I'll have to teach her to aim better next time." Corey let out a light chuckle as she shook her head. She brought the glass up to her lips as she looked over at her neighbor once again.
"I didn't come here to listen to your mocking." Joan took a threatening step forward, though it didn't have the effect she had anticipated. Corey stood taller, squaring her shoulders as she took a quick sip from the glass in her hand. "Those girls had better not come around my place again. I will call the police and I will press charges. Assault with a deadly weapon, arson." Corey froze, the smug look on her face faltering.
"Arson?" She put her glass down. Her eyes scanned back and forth as she tried to piece the evidence together. The familiar footsteps came to a halt and Corey looked up, her panicked gaze locking on the actress from afar. Again, inspiration flooded her psyche.
We might just get away with it.
The altar is my hips, even if it's a false god.
We'd still worship this love.
"The trashy one lit my curtains on fire." Corey inhaled deeply. Her eyes closed to keep herself from growing angry at the older woman in that moment. Her hand reached up to delicately adjust her glasses as if it was what she was seeing that was foreign to her and not the words coming out of the other woman's mouth.
"I don't know how she did it, but she did it." Corey opened her eyes. Her steely gaze locked on the older woman that stood before her. She rolled her jaw as she exhaled through her nose and took one powerful step forward. As she opened her mouth to speak, Madison's sarcastic tone fluttered across the room.
"I conjured the Devil." The blonde stood in front of Corey's open office with a hand resting against one of the tall white columns that supported the upper level of the building. Her head tilted to the side smugly.
"That's her." Joan spun around to look at the other girl, her breath hitching. Madison kicked out her hip as she wiggled her fingers and gave a threatening wave to the woman across the room. She scrunched her nose as she smirked, trying her best not to let out a laugh as she watched the panic wash over the neighbor.
"Yeah, thanks Captain Obvious," Corey groaned. She knew it was Madison. Nine times out of ten, if you told the redhead that something happened and the blonde just so happened to be there, she was usually the cause of whatever it may have been.
"You stay away from my boy," Joan pointed a threatening finger at the other girl, her hand wavering as her nerves gave way to the fear she felt in the other girl's presence.
"Hmm," she hummed. Her bottom lip slipped between her teeth for a fraction of a second. It was all the time she needed to weigh the pros and cons of continuing to mock the family next door. "Good luck keeping him away from me. He's so backed up, all I'd have to say is panties and he'd jizz his jeans." Corey rolled her eyes. While Madison was probably right, it didn't mean it was something the redhead wanted to hear.
"Stay away from my family," Joan turned to Corey, her shoulders rising with a shake as she took in a breath. "In Jesus's name!" As quickly as she had entered, she turned and stomped off, leaving the two witches to watch each other from across the room.
Madison let out a scoff, shaking her head as she turned to leave. The redhead panicked. Her shoulders fell from their defensive position as she watched the other girl start to walk away. It seemed, however, that the blonde was moving exceptionally slow for someone trying to escape.
"Hey babe?" Corey called out, her hand digging into her pocket for her pack of cigarettes. The blonde stopped in her tracks and turned to face the other girl with a smirk. It wasn't a nickname she heard often. Though, to be fair, it wasn't one she used often either. Corey lost the ability to speak for a moment as their eyes locked, her mouth dry as a desert while her heart thumped loud enough that she swore Madison could hear it across the room.
You're the West Village.
You still do it for me, babe.
"You got a light?" Her tongue jutted out to wet her lips, though it didn't do much to help her in the moment. The front door clicked shut as Corey managed to finagle a single black stick from the pack of cigarettes.
Madison looked at her with a confused expression for a moment, taking a few steps back into the room with her head held high. She was unsure of why the other girl was asking for her assistance. She knew that she was just as capable of lighting her own cigarette as the blonde was. When she realized why Corey had made the request in the first place, it was written all over her face.
"Oh," she muttered. Her brows raised ever so slightly as she slowly stalked forward. She met the redhead half-way, a playful smirk her lips as she focused on the end of the stick in her hands. Her brows furrowed, the prominent crescent between them a sign of her concentration. Corey placed the cigarette between her lips before letting her hand rest against her hip. Madison's smirk grew larger as she watched the flame flicker, lighting the stick with an excited gasp.
"Ta-dah," she chirped. She flicked one brow upward as her bottom lip slipped between her teeth, both in a playful manner and in excitement over her newfound power. She looked between the redhead's eyes and lips, her gaze lingering on the latter of the two.
"Proud of you," Corey chuckled. She pulled the cigarette from her lips as she exhaled through her nostrils, letting the smoke filter out into the air before her.
"Who knew I could do that?" Madison hummed. She swayed back and forth as she continued to close the distance between them. As she grew closer, her eyes grew softer. She wanted to stop, to plant herself at the end of the piano and keep her distance, but once again her feet led her on their own.
"Come here," Corey reached out a hand. Her fingertips grazed against Madison's cheek as she brushed the hair out of the blonde's face. Madison leaned into her touch. She closed her eyes, her lips curling upwards as she inhaled the combination of charred cedar, ground cinnamon and black coffee. She hummed in content as she slowly opened her eyes, sighing at the sad look in the other girl's green ones.
"I'm not going to apologize," Madison spoke quietly. It was almost a whisper, as if she didn't believe the words that came out of her mouth.
"Yeah?" Corey asked. One brow arched upwards in a challenge as she traced the other girl's cheek bone with the pad of her thumb. "Then I'm sure there's a perfectly good different reason why you were hovering outside my room earlier." She narrowed her eyes at the blonde with a smirk and watched the realization flash in the girl's gold eyes.
"You saw," Madison let out a sigh. Her eyes locked onto her feet as she tried to come up with an excuse. She cleared her throat, shaking her head. "As if I'd interrupt a call with the slime-ball of the century." Corey couldn't hold in the chuckle at the nickname that the blonde had picked for the man very early on.
"Hmm," the redhead let out a hum. Her hand slid around to cradle the back of Madison's head. "If only you had," she laughed as she leaned forward to place a kiss against the other girl's forehead. She let out a sigh, resting her nose against the top of Madison's head as the actress wrapped her arms around Corey's waist.
I know heaven's a thing.
I go there when you touch me, honey.
Hell is when I fight with you.
Corey narrowed her eyes, the orange glow of a lit cigarette in the otherwise dark hallway grabbing her attention. Her grip around the blonde tightened, her hand moving to the middle of Madison's back to pull her closer. The Supreme's words echoed subconsciously. You're in over your head if you think you can protect her from the things that go bump in the night; I would've thought your mother taught you better than that.