Ivy Lynn finished experimenting with her makeup at her vanity mirror. These days, being between gigs left her plenty of time for experimenting and everything else. It had been two weeks since being unceremoniously fired from Bombshell – for the second time. But this time she couldn't say that she didn't deserve what happened. The past few months had been an absolute blur of pills and bad habits. She was still surprised that anyone in the chorus was still speaking to her at this point. A familiar ping drew her to her phone.

Sam: Thinking of you today, wish you were here.

Ivy held her phone close to her heart. Her friend Sam was now on tour with The Book of Mormon as The General, finally making his way out of the chorus after all this time. Ivy texted him a morning message back as she gravitated towards her email.

Part of moving on professionally meant finding other work. She had been attached, unattached, reattached, and then separated once more from the Marilyn Monroe musical and she was now looking for work in earnest. There was nothing else for her to fall back on. I'd kill for a part in the chorus at this point, Ivy thought bitterly, opening her email inbox. Ivy blinked at the first bolded message on top, sent seven minutes ago from Bernie Telsey & Company. Request for audition. Ivy screamed, nearly knocking off her laptop in the process. Her persistence had paid off and she now had an audition for one of the major characters in Liaisons, a revival musical of a classic French text.

Reading the email for the third time, Ivy reached for her phone. The interview was to take place early next week, leaving her with little time to prepare. If she wanted a leg up on the competition, she would need expert advice.

"Well good morning."

The sound on the other end of the phone made her heart skip a beat. She didn't want to admit that he still had that effect on her after all of this time, but there was something about her former director that made her tingle.

"Good morning," Ivy said quickly, running her fingers through her hair. "Are you busy today by chance?" Ivy jotted down the address on a nearby pad, a location that she knew all too well. "See you in an hour."

Ivy shyly walked into the rehearsal space that had once felt like a second home to her. The last she had heard, Bombshell was once again on hiatus, this time do to funding issues stemming from lead producer Eileen Rand. Ivy offered a discreet wave to fellow ensemble members, a sinking feeling coming into the pit of her stomach. Karen Cartwright stood center stage, taking directives from the assistant choreographer. Ivy attempted to avoid her gaze as she sought out former director and former boyfriend Derek Wills. Eying him by the piano, Ivy ignored her final thoughts to flee the scene. "When you said you were here, I didn't realize Bombshell was back up."

Derek placed an arm around her shoulder, eliciting a small shiver from Ivy. "A little bit – it's not legally cleared yet, we'll see. What's up?"

Ivy felt Karen's eyes boring into the back of her neck. "I was just going to ask for a small favor but I can see that you're busy so, I just go." Ivy turned to make a graceful exit.

Derek took hold of her arm. "No – I could do with an audience right now. Could you just watch something for me?"

Ivy opened her mouth to speak, only to be cut off by Karen, inserting herself into the conversation.

"Well, I don't think that's such a great idea."

At least we agree on that, Ivy thought to herself, shifting her the weight on her feet. Karen had Ivy ousted from the show after the previews in Boston, and though Ivy couldn't blame her for being territorial after a year of competing, it hurt to see Karen in a role that was once hers.

The familiar chords of Moving the Line made Ivy blush. This was the very song she sang at the American Theatre Wing Gala last week, when Karen was incommunicado. "She has a great point," Ivy said lamely, wanting more than anything to leave the building.

Derek shook his head, his attention directed to his star. "Ivy has a great eye. She can tell us where we're going wrong."

Karen pursed her mouth in a fine line. Saying nothing to Ivy, she turned her attention back to the piano.

Ivy shyly took a seat in the front row. If I didn't need this favor, I wouldn't be here. If I hadn't called him today, I wouldn't know that the show was up and running. Ivy closed her eyes, memories of her singing this song, and every other song in the musical flooding her senses. She was immersed with visions of private rehearsals with Derek, remembering the slight flicker of satisfaction in his eyes when something played out correctly – she nearly broke herself for his approval, blocking out everything else and losing herself in the process.

"No, no, no!" Derek's bellowing pulled Ivy out of her trance. Ivy foggily stood up as Karen countered Derek's critiques with her own. Bracing herself with a chair, Ivy started for the door. She had seen and heard enough. Ivy froze when she heard a voice from behind her.

"Hey, I thought you wanted a favor," Derek reminded her.

Ivy clicked her tongue. "I changed my mind."

"Was the number that bad?" Derek scoffed, still hedging for advice.

"It's not the number," Ivy said gently, pulling her focus to the doorway.

"Ivy, Ivy." He touched her once more, this time an urgency in his gesture. "What can I do to make this better?"

"It's not you," Ivy whispered. "I shouldn't have come."

Derek narrowed his eyes at her. "I meant the number," he tiredly corrected.

Ivy blinked as tears began to fill her eyes. "I was talking about something else," she stammered, running out the door. Tears now freely falling, Ivy felt for the elevator button, blinding pushing down. She dashed in as the doors opened, giving no thought to the chaos behind her. Resting her head in her hands, Ivy pressed the button to close the door. The tears continued to fall – tears for Marilyn, for her failed relationships, everything from the past year. The doors slid open at the destination, and Ivy was once again face to face with Derek Wills.

"You're wasting your time," Ivy declared, her sadness now being replaced with anger as she attempted to push past him.

"The whole morning has been a complete waste of time," Derek stammered, out of breath from running down the stairs to catch her. "I'm sick of being in there."

"So you're looking for a distraction because you're bored?" Ivy darted to the right, heading for the exit.

"Stop!" Derek called after her, darting to catch up. He slid in front of the door, blocking her from leaving. "What happened in there…"

"I could see you disregarding me that way, there's nothing new about it" Ivy scoffed. "But Karen? I thought you actually cared about her." Derek looked at Ivy to continue. "Putting us in the same room, coming to me for advice about her performance – after everything that's transpired, it's the last thing she or I need."

"I care about you," Derek said, stepping away from the door.

Ivy shook her head. "You use me when it's convenient for you."

A fine line formed on Derek's mouth. "I just walked away from an entire rehearsal for you."

"Who asked you to?" Ivy spat, opening the front door and taking in the air. She started down the street, surprised to hear a pair of feet still behind her. "You're getting further away from your precious show."

"I didn't mean to hurt you in there. I wasn't thinking, I was all consumed with the show and getting the number right."

"Blinded to everything else, nothing new there," Ivy scoffed. "Seems to sum up all of last year, putting Bombshell above everything."

"Ivy…"

"There's nothing to see here. If you want to hear that I'm fine then I'll tell you. You're missing your work session."

Derek shook his head. "I'd rather be here with you." Ivy said nothing, letting him continue. "I thought we were friends," he said quietly.

Ivy dug her fingers into the outside of her purse. "Here I thought I was 'nothing important.'"

"I never said –"

"That is exactly what you said to your star Karen Cartwright last week, the night after the American Theatre Wing dinner." Derek blinked, waiting for Ivy to continue. "I knew you were going to be hung over after your bender the night before, so as a 'friend' I took pity on you and brought you breakfast. Only for you to give me the bums rush and laugh at me with Karen behind my back!" Ivy stared him down, daring for him to defend his behavior.

"I was hung over and didn't know what I was saying – you can't take that seriously."

Ivy shot Derek a disgusted look, clutching her bag to her chest. "Friends don't treat each other that way," she scolded.

"I didn't know you heard us, I thought you had already left," he explained, truly having no idea that Ivy was still in the penthouse the morning that Karen stopped by for a conversation.

"I shouldn't have come in the first place – my mistake! I'm going to focus on salvaging what's left of my career. Go back to your muse."

"Wait!" Derek reached for her hand, grasping her fingertips. "What about your favor?"

Ivy pulled away slowly. "I don't want to end up owing you anything in return."

Derek looked at her, bewildered. "We both know I owe you so much more than one favor."

Ivy nodded her head in agreement. "Still, I should be figuring this out on my own."

"Please?" There was an ache in his voice that Ivy couldn't walk away from. "I feel terrible –not just about today, but about last year."

"Well I suppose the fact that you feel remorse means you really aren't a monster," Ivy smirked, attempting to lighten the mood.

"I know a lot of people in this business who happen to owe me a favor or two – I'm sure I could help you in some way," he insisted.

Ivy licked her lower lip. "I'll give you one more chance to walk away and go back to…everyone else," she finished, studying him.

Derek didn't move. "I'm doing what I should have done in Boston – supporting you."

Her word of thanks was perceptible only to him. "I have an audition – early next week. It's a big part; I'm surprised they called me in. Well they didn't exactly call me in, I asked to audition, knowing it would be a long shot and –"

"Ivy," Derek took her right hand and squeezed it gently. "What role?"

"Did you ever read the book Les Liaisons Dangereuses?"

"Pierre Choderlos de Laclos – his work was part of a course I taught at London Academy of Music and Dramatic Art."

A smile formed on Ivy's mouth. "I forgot you were an adjunct professor at LAMDA."

"It was good filler between directing gigs." He found himself smiling in response. "I heard they were reviving the 1970s production."

"It's going to be based more on the classic text than the film."

"What role?"

Ivy's shoulders rose in pride. "Cecile de Volanges"

"Congratulations." Derek closed the gap between them, leaning in for a kiss.

"Derek," Ivy reprimanded gently, pulling away slightly.

"Right," Derek seconded. "Sorry."

Ivy could tell that he meant it. "I'm going up against big name actresses, ones that have already headlined shows, and I'm still a chorus girl who can't catch a break."

"Until now," Derek promised. "Your name may not be on the marquee, but you are going to get that part and I am going to help you."

Ivy breathed a sigh of relief.

Derek tentatively offered Ivy his arm, and she accepted as they walked down the streets of New York.

Ivy and Derek raced down the street to her apartment in the heart of Hell's Kitchen, energized after a two-hour rehearsal and brainstorming session.

"Come inside," Ivy insisted, her hand on the outside door. "I can fix you a drink, and I think I still have food in the fridge or –"

"I'd love to," Derek assured her, following her inside.

Ivy pulled a leftover bottle of wine out of the fridge and a bag of pretzels from the pantry. "I don't know how to thank you for today." She felt slightly shy as she took a seat next to him on the couch.

Derek took a swig of his drink. "You were wonderful today, transformative."

"Really?"

Derek leaned his head back. "I've missed seeing you on stage."

"I've missed being on stage," Ivy remarked, letting out a small laugh. "I really am grateful for everything."

"I'm glad I could help."

"You don't think you missed too much with Bombshell?"

Derek shook his head. "It hasn't been the same without you there."

"You only just started back up again after the shutdown. Give it time," Ivy encouraged. "Give her time," she added, knowing full well the 'her' she was referring to.

"She isn't you," Derek said slowly.

"Maybe that's a good thing," Ivy offered.

"Maybe," Derek echoed.

Ivy's eyes darted across the room. "You know what we could do," she suggested, crossing over to her DVD pile on the shelf. "Is watch this for inspiration."

Derek let out a small laugh. "I haven't seen Dangerous Liaisons in years."

"Then let's do it now – for inspiration!" Ivy was relieved for another distraction. It would be easier to focus on her work than think about other things.

Derek acquiesced, surprised when Ivy curled up next to him on the sofa. Wrapping his arm around her, he couldn't deny the warm feeling he felt in her presence, knowing that he had made her day a little bit better and atoned for his past in the process.

Derek stretched his neck as the end credits rolled, observing the now sleeping Ivy next to him on the sofa. He slowly rose, careful not to disturb her and reached for a blanket. They had spent an entire afternoon together, and he didn't regret a single minute. Draping the blanket over her resting form, he found himself once again regretting his choices from the past year.

"Hey," Ivy moaned, lifting her head off the throw pillow. "Did I dream our afternoon today?"

Derek chuckled; his fingers touching hers, wanting to kiss her, and struggling to restrain himself. "Not at all," he assured her. "You'll do well at your audition."

"Here's hoping," Ivy mused. "I suppose you have to go."

Derek nodded his head. "Let me know how everything turns out."

Ivy smiled in response.

Derek turned to her once more, his hand on the door. "I want to you know that I'm not seeing Karen." He told her this much right before he had fired her weeks ago – at Karen's insistence, but he believed it bore repeating.

"I'm not seeing anyone either," Ivy admitted. "I'm taking a bit of a break from dating; it's rather nice actually."

"I'm finding that out for myself," Derek smirked.

"Thanks again, friend," Ivy said with a small wave.

Derek waved back as he closed the door, a feeling of relief washing over him. They were friends, and they were both going to be okay.