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"This is hard." Julia states, glaring daggers at the innocent sticky notes tacked onto the cork board. Tom is by the piano, his hands rubbing the tiredness from his eyes.
"It's not like we haven't done this before." He says.
"And each time it's hard."
"Art isn't easy." She groans.
"Quoting Sondheim won't help me with this." She says, switching some of the sticky notes around on the board. Tom shrugs, humming as he plays a tune on the piano.
"Certainly won't hurt." He mutters, stopping to squint at his sheet music.
"How do you want this opening to start? A big bash or the slow buildup?"
"Maybe..." Julia hums in thought, turning a circle to gaze at Tom's apartment. "Can we have a loud beginning, as Karen enters New York City for the first time, a naive Broadway hopeful; a quiet middle, when Karen becomes a roommate to Ivy, a seasoned veteran of chorus lines; and then a big finish, when they vow to be friends and support each other through it all. Sound good?"
"Sounds great." Tom says, crossing his arms and tapping a finger to his lips. "I just realized, this story is eerily familiar to last year... Besides the friendship part. You don't suppose that'll upset Ivy and Karen?" Julia shrugs.
"I don't know, but it doesn't matter, you're the director." She gasps, a hand clapping over her mouth.
"What?" He asks, concerned.
"When I called Derek, asking him to choreograph this musical, I said we needed his direction. I meant for the dance numbers, but looking back, it must have seemed like I was asking him to be the director."
She whispers the word crap under her breath multiple times.
"You go call him, I'll keep working." Tom says, handing her a phone.
"I bet this'll be an interesting conversation." He says, she gives him a pleading look.
"Want to do it for me?"
"That would be an emphatic no."
"Coward." She mutters. He just laughs.
Ivy hates morning sickness. She really, really does. Unfortunately, it's become more and more of a routine lately. Wake up, throw up. Breakfast, throw up. Vitamins galore, queasy but fine. Until lunch. A constant cycle of yuck. She knows it's worth it though.
She's in the bathroom, brushing her teeth for the third time today, when she hears a series of muffled curses.
"Derek, what's wrong?" She says as she steps out of the bathroom, the toothbrush still dangling from her lips.
"Guess who's actually the choreographer, not the director of this musical?" He says, laughing without humor. "I should have known."
"Oh Derek, I'm so sorry." She says, her eyes soft and sad. He kisses her forehead before heading to the bedroom door.
"I'm going for a walk." He tells her.
"Try not to get too drunk." She says, her arms crossing as she leans against the bathroom doorframe.
"You know me too well."
"And because I know you, I want you to come home soon. You make stupid decisions while intoxicated." He musters a smile, but it quickly betrays his disappointment. He disappears quietly, Ivy barely hears the door close. She sighs deeply before turning back to the bathroom sink. She gets dressed and starts to make the bed, stopping when Derek's phone falls from the sheets. Ivy sighs, realizing he must have forgotten it in his haste to leave. She sticks it in her pocket and heads out of the apartment, hoping he's at his favorite bar.
Derek's sitting at the counter of his most frequented bar, it's rather empty this afternoon. A pretty new girl is tending the bar, smiling brightly as he asks for a scotch.
"You're Derek Wills, aren't you?" She asks, her red hair fiery in the shafts of sunlight drifting through the windows.
"Yeah. The scum of Broadway." He says, taking a gulp of the scotch when she hands it to him.
"I highly doubt that." She says, her hair swishing as she shakes her head. He just gulps down the rest of his drink.
"That's nice of you to say, but even Broadway's designated me as a right and proper git." She fills his glass again.
"Nonsense. You've still got loads of fans who think you're genius, despite your mistakes." He keeps drinking, only pausing when she lays her pale hand on his arm.
"For instance, there's me. I've loved your work, and I think you've still got a lot more to offer. And I can't wait to see it." He gazes in her green eyes, smiling faintly when he realizes she's in earnest.
"Thank you." He says, her smile widens even further.
"You're welcome." Her smile turns flirtatious, her hand still on his arm.
"I get off in a couple minutes, would you like to-" There's a delicate but annoyed cough from behind Derek. It's Ivy. And she's not smiling.
"Stupid decisions, Derek." She reminds him.
"Ivy Lynn!" The girl breathes. "I'm such a big fan of yours!"
"Thank you, I appreciate it." Ivy says. She smiles, it doesn't seem forced to the unobservant eye.
"This isn't what it looks like." Derek says, his arms now at his sides. Ivy picks up his hand, dropping his phone down in it, her forehead wrinkled in a frown.
"You forgot this. See you later." She turns to go but Derek holds onto her hand.
"Ivy, I can explain." He says, she sighs, looking at him impatiently.
"The bartender- I don't even know her name- she was just trying to cheer me up. That's all."
"And I can't do that, because?"
"Because, I don't want you to have to." Ivy loosens at that.
"Derek, of course I want to. That's what being together is about, we're there for each other."
"I know, I'm sorry." She hugs him tightly, his head against her shoulder as he's still sitting down, his eyes close as he soaks up her warmth. She kisses him once.
"It's ok. I'll see you tonight, yeah?"
"Yeah." She kisses him again, his face cupped in her dainty hands.
"It'll be ok, you'll be brilliant no matter what." She says.
"Thank you, Ivy." She pats his cheek and leaves, knowing he still wants to brood alone. He orders another scotch. It's given to him by a scowling man, young enough to almost be called a boy if not for the muscles. Derek is glad for the silence and loss of temptation. He drinks, the redhead's and Ivy's words swirling around in his head like the amber liquid in his glass. Disappointment heavy on his shoulders, he keeps drinking. Everything burns in his throat until he's blissfully numb.
Eileen is gathering some papers together in her office, she has a meeting with Julia and Tom, when Jerry barges through her door.
"Another musical, really?"
"Hello Jerry, thanks for knocking." Eileen says sarcastically. "And of course another musical."
"Where are you going to get the money? From another questionable backer? I'm sure your boyfriend won't be so willing to go to jail this time around." He sneers, Eileen just smiles tightly.
"If I had a martini, I'd throw it at you, with the glass." She says, moving around him to walk through her door.
"It's nice to- well, I've seen you. Goodbye Jerry, I have a meeting. And don't worry about my financial business, some of our old friends have been most helpful." And with that, she leaves him in the hallway.
Julia and Tom are still brainstorming in Tom's apartment when Eileen knocks on the door. Tom tries to sort his sheet music in a semi-neat pile as Julia answers the door. She starts rambling about her ideas to Eileen immediately, and though she's listening, Eileen feels as though someone's missing.
"Where's Derek?" She asks, Julia shares a look with Tom.
"He's not coming. I accidentally made it seem like he was the director, not the choreographer, so when I re-explained it to him, I didn't tell him to come today. He needed some to time to process things." Julia says, biting her lip in embarrassment.
"He's not the director?" Eileen asks, surprised.
"I am." Tom says, crossing his arms somewhat defensively. Eileen quickly recovers and smiles warmly at him.
"And you'll be amazing. So, where are we so far? With finished ideas."
"We have five songs done, three of them for the first act, and we can probably get another song done today as well." Julia says, checking her notebook over once.
"Wonderful." Eileen clasps her hands together. "When can we start a workshop?"
"We still need to go over some things with Derek, and have a meeting with everyone, Ivy and Karen included, but we should be ready for at least one workshop by next Monday." Tom says, Eileen checks her phone.
"Perfect. Send me the time for the next meeting, and I'll call them." Then she leans forward, her hands clasped under her chin.
"So, tell me the general synopsis of this musical, in only three sentences."
"A young singer journeys to NYC, becomes friends and a flat mate to a singer forever stuck in the ensemble, they struggle with show business together. The young singer makes it as a lead, her life kicks off well in the beginning; the other girl doesn't, but she does catch the romantic eye of a musical director. The second half shows the struggles with both lives, and how it affects their friendship, until the struggling singer gets a role in her boyfriend's musical and the young star is tired of her life in show business." Julia says in a rush.
"And?" Eileen asks.
"You said three sentences." Eileen laughs.
"I'm sure I can handle one more."
"They both realize they miss being friends, that they used to be a great team, so they reconcile and sing a reprise of their beginning song, vowing to stay friends through it all, this time for good." Julia finishes, smiling at Tom when he gives her a thumbs up.
"I love it. So who's playing who?"
"Karen is Julia, the younger singer; and Ivy is Leah, the singer who falls in love." Tom says, Eileen nods, then turns to Julia with an amused look.
"Are you sure you wrote this a couple years ago? It seems as though this book happened just last year."
"You know, Tom said that earlier today." Julia says thoughtfully, Tom chuckles.
"Who knew you were so clairvoyant?" He teases. Julia just laughs. Eileen stands up to leave, already planning ahead for the next meeting.
"Well, I love this story," she says. "And I think it'll be great. I'll call you soon." She pauses. "Just one more question, what's the musical's name?"
It's late when Derek stumbles home, Ivy's curled up on the couch asleep. She jerks awake as he closes the door.
"I was wondering when you were coming home." She says, yawning as she helps him up the stairs.
"Shouldn't have waited up." He slurs, his breath reeking of alcohol.
"Well I did, so help me out here. You may be fit, but I can't carry you up the stairs." She teases lightly, though he really is practically deadweight. They reach the hallway when he bolts to the bathroom. For the first time in a long while, it's not Ivy who's puking.
"Sorry." Derek mutters when he's done. She wipes his mouth with a warm, wet towel.
"It's ok." She reassures him. He's silent as she helps him undress, staring blankly as she leads him to bed. He knows he doesn't smell very good, but Ivy still curls up next to him, rubbing soothing circles on his stomach. She hums a pretty lullaby under her breath, it's calming.
"Thank you for taking care of me." He says slowly, sleep making his eyelids flutter. He feels her smile.
"Thanks for letting me."