Anotha one
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- Penelope -
"Oh, hey Penelope." Isadora leans diagonally across the doorway of the Hämäläinen household. The mansion, I should say; I kind of got the impression they were well off, but holy shit. The sprawling white-and-brick house takes up half the block with its wrap-around porch, porticoes, manicured garden and lawn, and turrets. "Your sister's already here."
"I, uh, actually…" I swallow. Probably just shouldn't've come.
"She's here for us, Isa," Freddy shouts from somewhere within the house and I sag a little with relief.
"Yeah. Sorry. Didn't mean to crash the party," I mumble.
"Oh! Great, well, c'mon in." Her body language immediately turns friendly and she waves me into their spacious mudroom. I knock my snowy boots against the edge of their house, then step in.
Mariah Carey is playing over their home speakers, they've got wreaths and bells and holly boughs as far as the eye can see, angels perched on immaculately varnished dark oak side tables, and the whole house smells like hot chocolate and apple cider. Heloise was invited over by Isadora for a little Christmas party with Daphne, Ivette, and Bellona, and about a day later I got a perplexing, emoji-filled text from Freddy that I'm pretty sure meant he'd have Baru and I over as well.
"They're in the basement," Isadora informs me as I yank my boots off with some difficulty—the soles got torn up and now every time I try to pull them off my feet get stuck—and waves me toward a narrow hallway next to their staircase.
Well, that's reassuring, I think as Isadora disappears into one of the open-concept living spaces IKEA magazine display showroom rooms, and hear a giggle a moment later. A few choice flashbacks of girls whose parents forced them to invite me to their sleepovers resurface and I cringe. I'm not hanging out with a bunch of catty girls, though.
I hurry down the hall toward the basement door before I can find out how tall Isadora and Freddy's parents are.
Their basement is just as capacious as you'd expect from the subterranean version of a huge house; wall-to-wall cream carpeting, some kind of elaborate tv-and-gaming-console set-up on the far wall, and another widescreen surrounded by caramel leather couches and the kind of sequin-y pillows that look super uncomfortable to lean against on the other side of the basement.
In the middle of the basement, Freddy is chasing Baru with an electric razor.
I pause at the base of the stairs, watching as Baru swerves around the couch and Freddy vaults over it after him like some kind of ginger panther.
"Alright, what the hell is going on?" I finally ask, trying not to laugh.
Freddy pauses, clicks the razor off, and swings around to look at me with a wide smile. "Penn State, so good to see you."
His nicknames don't really stick, but it's better than being Penny all the time. I look over at Baru, who has taken the opportunity to hide behind a perfectly white arm chair.
"He's gone mad!" Baru shouts.
"I am doing this for your own good, Barracuda." Freddy waves the razor, looking to me for back-up.
"Yeah, I'm lost," I admit.
Baru pops up over the chair, looking indignant. "He's trying to shave my head."
"Not shave it, I am merely staving off the approaching mullet that your horrendous grooming habits have incurred," Freddy retorts, clicking the razor back on with a bzzz.
"That seems dangerous," I observe as the chase begins again. "Don't cut his ear off, Freddy."
Baru seizes one of the fancy pillows and holds it up in front of his head. "Back off. The mullet stays. Penelope's got way more than a mullet and I don't see you jumping at her like a crazy person."
"An excellent point." Freddy spins on his heel and points his razor at me. He's wearing a godawful green, knitted Christmas sweater covered in embroidered ornaments with a tasteful font pronouncing Balls. "Want a haircut?"
"Hell yeah," I say before I consider what I'm getting myself into. Then I touch my hair, growing ever-longer since I stopped taking care of it, and think, Yeah. Fuck it. I don't want all this hair and this mascara and shit. New country, new me. What's Dad gonna do? What's Mom gonna do?
Freddy pauses, then grins. "Seriously?"
I shrug. "I think it'd look good."
"You have no idea what you're getting yourself into," Baru mutters, dropping the pillow.
"She's getting herself into a great situation," Freddy exclaims, flapping one hand like Baru's a mosquito. "I'm going to go to hairdressing school. I'm sure I can buzz off a bit of hair."
"You haven't gone there yet," Baru points out.
Before they start bickering again, I walk a little ways into the basement and sit on one of the couches. "You don't have to. But I don't really like my hair long."
Freddy grins wider and Baru slaps his face. After inspecting me for a moment, Freddy announces, "Right. Baru, help her wet her hair. I'll go get my stuff."
As ominous as Freddy's stuff sounds, I'm weirdly excited. It's been a long time since I looked in the mirror and liked what I saw. Baru sighs as if he's been delegated to bring me to my execution and starts herding me toward the bathroom. He helps me douse my hair in the sink and squints at me as I wring it out.
"Thanks for the save," he mutters. "If you were two minutes later…"
"You'd be missing an ear?" I laugh. "Nah. This is for me. I hate…" I motion toward the mirror.
Baru nods. "Why didn't you cut your hair before now?"
"Parents."
"Ah."
Freddy comes bounding back down the stairs a moment later. His hair's been put in a man bun with a comb stuck through it and he's hoisting a bag full of scissors and mysterious gels. Oh boy.
He leaves the bag on the porcelain sink-counter then scurries off into the storage-portion of his basement, returning with a folding chair.
"Okay, sit, sit. You have entered the Freddy zone," he declares. "Baru, fetch me cider."
"Not on your life."
"Heartbreaking. We'll take a break for drinks while the primer sets in," he decides, and uncaps an aerosol with a loud pop!
"Mario Kart after this?" Baru suggests.
"I will thrash you both," Freddy says by way of agreement, then clicks on his electric razor again.
I look at the person in the mirror, with two friends and soon-to-be-short-hair, and smile.
- Leandro -
"Guess!" I exclaim.
Haze laughs, tucking the couple strands of dark hair that were displaced when she tugged her hood off into the edge of her hijab. I ambushed her at her locker before her class and she hasn't even gotten a chance to change out of her parka. She picks the card out of the wrapping paper. "To Boy, Sirrah, Lamb, Cub, and heiress of Illyria."
Yes, I combed the script for every last title I could apply to her character. Christmas is the time of year to go all out, and if I'm too chickenshit to admit how I've felt for four years, then I might as well shower her with gifts and hope she picks up the unsubtle clue.
She starts pulling out the wrapping paper.
"You don't even wanna shake it?" I wheedle.
"The green apple candies might fall out," she answers dryly. Then pulls out the bag of green apple candies. "Thanks, Lee! Seriously. I was running out."
"Impossible. You have some secret stash in your closet, I know you do."
She snorts. "Those are for emergencies."
"There's more in there." I pick out a strand of wrapping paper for her.
"Ooh."
Her little magpie eyes light up as she picks out the jewelry box and pops it open. I lean against the locker with a satisfied smile as she pulls the ring free of the velvet and brings it up to her face.
"Ooooh."
"Figured it'd make a good prop for Twelfth Night," I say as if I don't buy her a ring every year.
She grins, slipping the ring onto her left hand and holding it up to an imaginary audience. "What means Leandro? Fortune forbid my outsides have not charmed him!"
"You're more charming that you give yourself credit for," I tease and hope I look as insincere as possible. Sure enough, she socks my shoulder.
"Shut up."
I laugh and wait as she sheds her parka, stuffs her boots into her locker, retrieves her English binder, and tucks the candies into her pocket. Haiza keeps the ring on her finger all through the first block and when we regroup at lunch, it's still there.
It's a moonstone, twinkly and opalescent, because I figured it'd go with all her monochrome rings. She's born in June, which I think means that's her birthstone but every single website told me a different thing, so my official explanation is 'cool shiny rock for Haze.'
Cory meets up with us at our lunch table bearing Subway and shoots me a knowing look when she sees the ring on Haze's finger. I avoid her stare.
"What'd you get me, Lee?" she asks, sliding into the bench next to Haze.
"Free spotting coupon." I slide the little piece of card paper across the table. I drew a little dumbbell next to the writing. Cory's smirk turns to an actual smile.
"Aw, thanks."
"What'd you get everyone else?" I'm pretty sure Haze only asks because she knows how much I like to brag about my gift-buying skills, but I won't complain. She's right, anyhow.
"I am so glad you asked," I enthuse, already fishing around in my pocket for my list. "iTunes gift card for Jules, mini sampler packs of flavoured coffee for Mel, and floral candles for Mom."
"Memorized lines for Mr. A?" Cory jokes, devouring her sub in half a bite, then asks with her mouth full, "Y'all ready for dress?"
"Definitely," I say as Haze says,
"Definitely not."
Cory snorts, then starts coughing as shredded lettuce goes down the wrong way.
"You'll do great, Haze," I assure her, hand moving over the table in a half-aborted movement to grab hers. Nope. Chill. I flatten my hand on the table instead.
"Penelope's doing this performance. I'll do great being offstage." Haze shakes her head at me. "Do you even read Mr. A's emails? Blaire and Penelope are on today, and then me and Bruno get thrown off the deep end on opening night."
I pull out my phone. 2,783 unread emails, Gmail says. I put away my phone again. "Right. Welp. You'll do great on opening night."
She swallows and flashes an ill-looking smile. "Uh-huh."
"Yeah, Haze, you're fine," Cory says. "I'm more worried about your brother."
Haze's unease vanishes and she rolls her eyes. "Yeah, Moiz… he just needs to learn how to hold a poker face."
"Maybe he'll do better with Blaire as Toby," I suggest.
Cory huffs. "He laughs around me, not Bruno. How do you think Penelope's gonna do? I'm surprised how committed she's been to this thing."
"Trying to impress my brother. My other brother," Haze says with a grimace.
I make a noise of agreement, but Cory holds up a finger.
"She's not into him anymore I don't think."
"She found out what he's like?" Haze snorts.
"Naw, I dunno… they just kind of became friends and that was that," Cory says with a shrug. "'Sides, your brother is like, definitely gay, right?"
Haze nods.
"There you go."
We finish our lunches in relative silence after that, having solved the mystery of Cory's cousin and Haze's brother, then split for the second block. I'm fizzing with nervous energy all through my last two classes, wondering what's it's gonna be like to play Orsino to Penelope's Viola. Guess I'll have to learn how to fake yearning, I think.
"Mr. Cuerves?" Mr. B asks sharply.
I jerk upright. "Yup. Uh, quadratic formula—X equals negative B plus or minus root B squared minus four A C over two A."
Mr. B eyes me as if he's suspicious I cheated on this random question, then continues to drone, marking up the paper on the projector. My eyes start to blur at all the parabolas, and the formulas begin to be replaced with lines from Twelfth Night.
'I'll sacrifice the lamb that I do love, to spite a raven's heart within a dove.'
Kind of a raw line for a comedy, I think, twiddling my pen between my fingers. Also 'But this your minion, whom I know you love, And whom, by heaven I swear, I tender dearly.' I guess I've been playing Orsino like he's in love with 'Cesario' by that point, accidentally or otherwise. Will it be noticeably different with Penelope as Cesario? Will Haze wonder why I act in love with Viola when it's her but not when it's Penelope? Hm. Terrifying. But I guess it's easier for her to find out by accident than it would be for me to actually work up the nerve to tell her.
- Blaire -
My time has come.
While the temptation to burst through the auditorium's doors and fly down the aisle at an unmatched velocity is strong, I keep it cool until we're all assembled, ready to go. Mr. A has us all rounded up by 4:00 pm.
"Alright everybody, we're starting in ten minutes," he says. We're all sitting in the front row of the auditorium, looking up at him as he stands in front of the stage, laying out our schedule. There's not much of one today. "Full music. Full costumes. Full tech, thank you, tech crew and thank you, Mel. Understudies Blaire and Penelope. Hopefully Bruno and Haiza, you guys will be fine for the whole run," he holds up crossed fingers and shoots a smile at Haiza and the empty seat where Bruno would've been if he'd shown up, "but Blaire and Penelope, you guys have done phenomenal jobs learning the whole show. Yeah, c'mon up, let's give them a round of applause."
I roll forward to Mr. A's side, then see Penelope peel away from the fringes of the cast. "Damn girl!" I exclaim when I see her.
Rather than the tight, uncomfortable smiles I've seen her make, she flashes a crooked grin, then practically saunters over to Mr. A. Her hair, previously auburn ringlets past her shoulders, has been trimmed to thick rusty-red curls that barely reach her neck, buzzed at the base and combed over. She's swapped out her skirt and blouse for a palm-leaf-patterned teal button-down and jean capris that set her greenish-blue eyes sparkling.
"Monarch Pennsylvania!" Freddy yells from somewhere in the cast and starts clapping. The rest of the cast joins in, with a slight ripple of bemused laughter at Freddy's new nickname for her.
Penelope's cheeks redden but her grin doesn't waver. Good for her, I think. She always gave me a weird vibe, like she was uncomfortable in her own skin, or playing a role someone else picked for her. Now she's nearly radiating confidence.
"Very good Cesario-haircut," Mr. A comments with an approving nod. "Alrighty, folks. Ms. Cary'll take you through a vocal warm-up, then we'll do some physical warm-ups, and then you guys are gonna get your costumes on, I'll check in with tech, we'll do fight call for the people with fights, and we'll kick this dress off."
Even Julio seems excited to start warm-up. I move through the scales with gusto, knowing I'm gonna have to sing Three Merry Men with Freddy and Baru. I'll need to hold my own against Freddy's vocals and… possibly drown out Baru. Good night, Penthisilea. On the twelfth day of December… I glance at Daphne. We've been texting a lot, though no more date-adjacent-hang-outs since we got tea after the park line-running. Just ask her, you dingus, my brain suggests.
How about I flirt with her in-character and then wait for a thematically appropriate time to proposition her?
Come by and by to my chambers.
I swing my arms around during the physical warm-up, maneuvering my chair in small, tight circles around the stage. Gonna have to chase Moiz around. Every line, every movement is jostling around in my head, like if I don't keep them all on the surface they'll be forgotten. I know this stuff. And maybe I haven't performed in a full performance with all the other characters and in-costume, but I'm ready.
The energy is electric at 4:30 on a Tuesday, and if that's not the magic of Shakespeare, then I don't know what is.
The people that don't have to be onstage for a couple of scenes are allowed to chill in the audience for now, so I'm seated in the front row with Jules as it starts. Our sets are fairly minimalist; a staircase leading up and offstage is probably our most fancy piece. I know we've got a couple of cardboard hedges for the box tree scene, a window to symbolize the change in scenery for Olivia's house, and a sofa for Orsino to throw himself on dramatically, but for the most part, the scene is set with lights and sounds.
The overhead lights of the auditorium dim; not to the complete darkness it'll be for the actual shows, but enough for a sense of majesty when the curtains ripple open to reveal the dark stage. A spotlight illuminates a figure at the top of the stairs.
Leandro stands, still as a statue, in a swath of regal purple that seems to shimmer in the singular light of the spot. For an instant, I've been transported to Illyria. Then Leandro's voice comes out of the Duke, trailing through a speech I've heard a hundred times as he walks down the stairs. The light slowly widens until the whole stage—Orsino's chambers—are lit in a glow of faint purple. My sister stands at the base, half-drowned in blue frills, watching Leandro.
Ms. Cary's music comes into prominence as Orsino's speech continues, then trickles to silence when he finishes.
"Will you go hunt, my lord?" Belle asks. I'm surprised how well her voice carries; normally she talks in a half-whispered rasp that I figured would get swallowed up in the auditorium.
As the scene winds to a close and Penelope and Heloise walk on, I scooch out the back of the auditorium and take the back halls to backstage so I can get ready for my first scene. What a plague means my niece? What a plague means my niece, to take the death of her brother thus? I am sure care's an enemy to life.
I imagine Daphne following me as I wheel to centrestage, wagging her finger in her cute Maria dress. By my troth, Sir Toby, you must come in earlier o' nights.
Excitement hums in my chest as Heloise mumbles her last lines. Her voice doesn't carry, unfortunately. Hopefully the audience gathers what's going on when Viola starts cross-dressing.
Penelope exits toward me and I meet her gaze with a grin. For the first time, she matches it.
I roll out in time with the lighting cues, summon up my best booming-Toby voice, and deliver my opening line to the mellow amber light of the stage.
- Moiz -
This is either a mess or the greatest production of Twelfth Night ever. Possibly both.
After watching Freddy ad-lib through nearly the entire 'Take away the fool' scene, I'm already doubled over in the audience, fighting for breath, mostly because of Begone, thot, which I'm sure Mr. A will have words with Freddy over.
With Blaire playing Toby, Mr. A has enlisted Izzie to play Fabian. It seems like she's learning her lines one scene at a time, and her scenes lose their wheels occasionally. Blaire is doing a tremendous job of somehow both holding down the fort and also peppering chaos throughout her scenes. She nearly knocks Daphne to the ground with an ill-timed twirl and forces Baru to jump out of the way when she charges her wheelchair across the stage, but even with Izzie dropping and skipping lines, that whole subplot doesn't fall apart entirely.
It's actually a lot of fun not to have any scenes before like… the halfway point. Ivy and I chill in the audience, oohing and aahing over all the costumes we haven't seen yet. When Leandro appears like some kind of fancy spirit in purple, for a second I get what Haiza's seeing in him.
Blaire's costume is quite literally just a white undershirt and pants, and she takes full advantage of the baggy sleeves, flapping her arms about with zeal on the line I'll confine myself no finer than I am. Penelope looks adorable and surprisingly adrogynous in the powder-blue vest when she switches into Cesario mode. I mean, nobody on earth would think we're twins, I think, stifling a giggle. But that's one of the smallest 'suspensions of disbelief' in this thing.
"Here comes your wife again," Ivy mutters to me, pretending to pout. She's stolen one of my earrings for her Antonio costume, and Mr. A has yet to chew her out.
Cory comes in for her love confession scene with the force of a tornado.
"Most excellent accomplished lady, the heavens rain odors on you!" Penelope announces, and I'm inclined to agree. Cory is decked out in royal blue, gold thread, and a weird, mini-hat, a stark contrast to the stiff black dress she's been waddling around in so far.
Their repartee is surprisingly entertaining to watch; once Penelope and Cory are alone, Cory is like some large tropical bird circling her quarry. Penelope is making a valiant effort to keep the conversation centred on Orsino.
"I pity you!" Penelope finally exclaims, dodging away to the other side of the stage as Cory swoops again.
"That's a degree to love!" Cory answers, pressing her hands to her chest.
Penelope slaps her hand across her face.
"We're up in a minute," Ivy murmurs to me and we stand, filing out of the dark auditorium.
The first scene went fine, even though I tripped over a couple of lines. Ivy's still majorly showing me up; whether she's showing off for Belle or not, something's clicking for her in a way that it isn't for me.
When Blaire's finished, I step onstage. Sebastian's got the exact same powder-blue vest as Cesario, which seems improbable if he's been hanging out with pirates for three months, but at least it makes me and Penelope seem like more of a unit.
"I would not by my will have troubled you, but since you make your pleasure of your pains," I pause to contain a wheeze of laughter at the memory of Ivy interrupting me in line-practice to say 'kinky' and finish with, "I will no further chide you."
Not a lot of dirty jokes from Ivy this time. She steps backward, glancing around the stage and at the projected shadows of a village skyline behind us, and says, "I could not stay behind you. My desire, more sharp than filèd steel, did spur me forth. And not all love to see you, though so much as might have drawn one to a longer voyage, but jealousy of what might befall your travel."
We continue, and I find myself moving around Ivy like Penelope did Cory; carefully sidestepping each of her forward movements, refusing each offer of intimacy. Didn't Haze give me, like, a whole sermon on the difference between 'thou' being informal and 'you' being formal, and how it's actually super tragic that Sebastian constantly uses 'you' with Antonio while Antonio uses 'thou?'
Ivy drops a coin purse into my hands, and I ask, "Why I your purse?" Would it be 'thy purse' if Sebastian was… as into Antonio as Antonio is into him?
"Haply your eye shall light upon some toy you have desire to purchase," Ivy says with a shrug, then blatantly checks me out, eyes travelling slowly up my vest. "And your store, I think, is not for idle markets, sir."
My cheeks heat somehow, even though I know the line's hardly… uh, heterosexual. That little once-over's new, though. How'd she think of that? Freddy whoops, and we finish up the scene.
"To the Elephant," Ivy says at last, giving me a little salute and turning toward where that interestingly-named inn would supposedly be.
I mirror the two-fingered salute. "I do remember."
And to opening night. Excitement surges in my stomach. Exit Sebastian.
Eee it's heating up men
~Akila
