A/N: This one is pretty long. What can I say, I love writing Ivy.
The past fades away because as of this day Norma Jeane's gone.
Ivy Lynn sat outside the studio getting ready to read for the final callbacks of Marilyn: The Musical. The creative staff had just gone inside, leaving her alone with her main competition, a newbie by the name of Karen Cartwright. According to Ivy's dancer friend, Dennis, the brunette girl sitting across from her was an native Iowan who had just got to New York a few months ago. She couldn't have been more than 24 and she had absolutely no experience, yet here she was, the only thing stopping Ivy from finally getting what she'd always wanted: a part in a broadway show. Ivy had been hopping from ensemble to ensemble for the past decade. And while the years had greatly improved her dancing, they hadn't done much for her self esteem. In Ivy's mind this was her one big shot and now some nobody was going to swoop in a steal Marilyn out from right under her nose. It incensed Ivy. The girl was as green as they came. Ivy had paid her dues. She had spent years being the backup singer, now it was her turn to be the star. But somehow, everyone seemed enamoured by the neophyte.
Karen glanced over at Ivy, looking as though she were just about to open her mouth to say something. Ivy shot her a death glare and the Iowan returned to her former position like a wounded bird. It struck Ivy how naive she was. The brunette hadn't had enough exposure to showbiz to really understand what a harsh business it was. Ivy realized this was probably her first callback for a lead. The idea had long since lost its novelty for the bombshell blonde, she had been turned away one too many times, but Karen most likely still believed that her big break was just around the corner. Ivy would have traded her years of experience to be able to feel that kind of pure hope, to have that innocence. But Ivy had never been like that, not even on at her first broadway audition.
~FLASHBACK~
It was the summer after high school when she'd heard about a new musical based on "Little Women." She knew she fit the description of Amy to a tee, blonde curls and a baby face. When she arrived at the studio, she was surprised and terrified to see the dozens of other hopefuls waiting outside the doors, all gorgeous, leggy dancer types. Ivy went to the desk and was directed to take a seat. It would be a while, she was told, equity took priority. Of course, she'd known that this wouldn't be easy, her mom was a showbiz veteran after all, but the sheer number of people was something she hadn't expected. Her mother had already been a Tony Winner when Ivy was born so she had never really had any exposure to what it was like working your way from the ground up. After nearly two hours of sitting there, studying her song and monologue, she finally worked up the courage to talk to somebody. Glancing around the room, she'd picked a pretty redhead, leaned in and whispered hello.
"Hey." the auditionee replied, barely looking up. She wasn't being rude, but Ivy could tell that she barely registered on this girl's radar.
"My name's Ivy Conroy. What's yours?" she had asked, not one to give up easily. The woman finally looked up, studying her with a puzzled expression on her face. Ivy sat uncomfortably, wondering why she was being analyzed so closely. She'd decided to break the awkward silence herself.
"So, who would you be?" She was met with another look of utter confusion.
"In Little Women." Ivy clarified.
"Probably Meg." the girl replied, never taking her eyes off the blonde.
"How about you?"
"Amy. You know, the hair, the face. I loved the book. My dad used to read it to me when I was little." Ivy told her, making small talk.
"Not your mom?" the redhead asked, a little too inquisitively.
"No," Ivy answered hesitantly. Her mother was a bit of a sore subject.
"She was busy a lot."
"Doing what?" the woman seemed extremely interested, far more than she should have been but Ivy complied.
"She's a performer." Suddenly, the other girl's jaw dropped.
"Your mother is Leigh Conroy, isn't she?" Ivy nodded nervously, slightly frightened by her reaction.
"I knew I recognized your name." She whipped around, turning to the other girls and whispered fervently.
"Hey guys. Leigh Conroy's daughter is here!" And all of a sudden, Ivy was being swarmed. Girls of all ages were crowding around her asking her what her mother was like. It was overwhelming but not unpleasant. She kept herself occupied for the next few hours, trading stories about growing up backstage for tips on how to impress the casting director (namely, sleep with him) and the rules of the business. When they finally called for non-equity, Ivy got up and entered the audition room. It was small and grey, she had been expecting something more lavish, but at this point, she was too nervous to care. It was as if butterflies were cartwheeling through her intestines. But she pasted on her show face and handed her 16 bars to the pianist.
A week passed before they called. She was coming home from her friend's house when she walked in on her mom, holding the phone to her ear and scribbling something down on a pink memo pad.
"Yep. I'm sure she'll be thrilled. No, no, no. We'll definitely work together again Greg. Alright, thanks. Bye." Leigh turned to face her daughter.
"You got a callback." she told Ivy, her face expressionless.
"Really?" Ivy felt like jumping into the air and screaming. A broadway callback on her first try?
"It's just for the ensemble, but yes." Leigh replied, smoothing down her skirt, not looking at Ivy. Normally, it would have upset Ivy immensely that her mother didn't seem to be putting forth any effort to appear happy for her child, but right now Ivy was far too excited to mind. This was big. Sure, it wasn't an actual part, but you had to start somewhere, right?
"Don't get too excited Ivy." her mother told her.
"It's a long road to broadway. This'll be a workshop, if you're lucky enough to get cast that is." the older woman said, tossing her curls. But nothing could dampen Ivy's spirits. She bounced off to her room, never looking back to see her mother's eyes fill with tears.
Ivy showed up for the callback decked out in full on dancer gear, complete with two inch La Ducas, ready to make a splash. She knew she looked every bit the seasoned expert and she was determined to act the part as well. They were in a much larger studio this time, spacious, with a wall of mirrors. Tall, muscular men and women were crowded in, all stretching and chatting. It was intimidating to say the least but Ivy faked a hundred watt smile and went to stand by the ballet bar next to a black guy who didn't look too much older than her. Concentrating on warming up, she lifted her leg so that it was nearly parallel to her body. She was showing off a little, trying to prove that she could be one of them. The boy snickered quietly.
"What?" she asked questioningly.
"Nothing. You're just going to fit in perfectly around here." Ivy smiled, although she was unsure of whether or not he had intended it as a compliment. But before she could ask for an elaboration, they were being called to the front of the room. Numbers were handed out before everyone dispersed and they began learning the combination. It was fairly easy for someone with as much training as Ivy, so most of her energy went into selling it. She knew her one advantage was the fact that she was first and foremost an actor. She drew attention without upstaging. When they called for a water break, she couldn't help but notice the British assistant choreographer was smiling at her. She wasn't sure if it was because he thought she was pretty or because he thought she was talented. Either would have pleased Ivy. She smiled back, thinking all was going well. That is, until she heard
"Is that Leigh Conroy's kid?"
"Yeah. Probably thinks she's all that because of her mom." Ivy whipped around and saw two women standing my the mirrors, glaring at her.
"She probably does. All she has to do is get Mommy to pull some strings and she's in." the taller one said, rolling her eyes. Ivy shrank back. She would never use her mother to get a job! And besides, Leigh would never help her even if she asked. Her mom was dead set against Ivy going into showbiz, had been from day one. She had put herself through dance classes and vocal lessons her whole life. Ivy resented that these people thought she was getting things handed to her on a silver platter. She stormed back to her spot when they were called back and put her heart and soul into the rest of the audition.
She was sitting on her bed when the phone rang. Not recognizing the number, she picked it up.
"Hello?"
"Hello Ivy Conroy?" It was the assistant choreographer. She thought his name might be Derek.
"Yes."
"We'd like to offer you a position in the ensemble of "Little Women." She nearly shrieked in excitement.
"Seriously?" she asked. Then, realizing how unprofessional that sounded, she adjusted her voice to a businesslike tone.
"I mean.. Thank you." She fell into silence. How did one continue this conversation? He laughed, obviously amused by her youth.
"Rehearsals start on August 8th. You will be contacted about contracts within the next few weeks." Then he bid her adieu and hung up. Ivy rushed downstairs. She found her mother and father sitting in the living room, tensely watching television.
"Mom! Dad! I got the job." she screeched, rushing up to hug her father who was smiling at her, opened armed.
"That's great sweetie." He told her, kissing her forehead. Her mother, however, was a different story. Leigh looked on, almost coldly.
"Congratulations Ivy." she moved to leave the room. Ivy followed her to the kitchen. No matter what her mom said, this was a big deal. And she'd be damned if she couldn't force some kind of reaction out of Leigh.
"So, mom, I actually got a job!" she said, mustering up as much enthusiasm as possible.
"Yes. I know Ivy." Leigh replied, looking vaguely annoyed. Ivy decided to switch tactics.
"You know, everyone thought it was crazy that I was your daughter." Leigh seemed slightly more intrigued.
"These girls were actually saying that you got me the callback but they don't know how you are. I know you would never do that." she continued, hoping that guilt might cause Leigh to respond.
"Well, I'm sure my knowing the director probably didn't hurt honey." her mother replied casually, as if she were barely listening.
Ivy was pissed. First, her mom didn't care about something that she considered a pretty big step and now Leigh was actually making this about her career. Trust her narcissist mother to turn the conversation back on herself.
"I don't think you sleeping with the director twenty years ago made any difference in whether or not I got cast." she said through gritted teeth.
"Connections are everything in this business Ivy." Leigh murmured, obviously not caring about her daughter's knowledge of her past escapades.
"Mother!" Ivy screamed. Leigh turned.
"What is wrong with you? Can't you just be happy for me?" she asked, eyes brimming with tears.
"Well darling, you don't even know if this will pan out. People get replaced all the time. I just don't want you to get your hopes up." Leigh told her, putting on her concerned parent act. The one she usually reserved for when potential employers or Ivy's teachers were around, her dramatics tricking the important people into thinking that she actually gave a shit about her only daughter.
Ivy had had enough. She pushed past her mother, through the living room and out the door, slamming it as she left.
When Ivy got her equity card a few weeks later, she registered as Ivy Lynn. She severed any ties to her mother, at least in her career. But it was too late. Her perfect beginning had already been tainted.
~END FLASHBACK~
Ivy looked across at Karen once again. And, although she wasn't sure quite what possessed her to do so, she got up and walked over. Smiling a genuine smile, she sat down next to the girl.
"Hey. I'm sorry. I'm just a little stressed right now. My name's Ivy Lynn. What's yours?"
Hope you enjoyed. Please review.
