A/N: I have finally mapped out the rest of the story! I have a plan for each chapter but I keep adding more and more! This story is going to be my longest one I've ever written...oh gosh. I'm very excited about how this ends! Thank you so much for so much support! And thank you for 5k views! Please review if you've enjoyed :D It encourages me to write more when I see you guys enjoying what I put out!
Peach stood in the middle of her bedroom, her script in one hand while she reviewed her line. After whispering it to herself a few times, she opened her mouth to start for what seemed to be the hundredth time but was immediately interrupted by her company.
"Stage left! Stage left!" Ludwig harshly demanded with his claw on his face. "You enter from stage left!"
Ludwig sat on a tall stool, his eyes glued to his own copy of the script. He dangled his feet and crossed his arms as he observed the actress, waiting for a swift correction.
Peach nodded in embarrassment as she quickly shifted to the correct side of the bedroom, earning a thankful, but frustrated, sigh from her director.
While not a formal setting for rehearsal, it was large enough for Peach to get an idea of what to do. Though more often than not, directions were confusing, there were no props, and no actors to interact with. Instead, she was left in the hands of her director.
"Wouldn't this technically be...bedroom left?" Peach asked with a sheepish smile. She had hoped to lighten the mood, but instead, was left feeling even more hopeless, as Ludwig didn't smile.
Ludwig furrowed his brow as he hopped off his stool.
"You are not taking this seriously, miss Toadstool," he muttered with his nose pointed in the air. "Let's...continue tomorrow so you may attempt to get your head out of the clouds." He gently shook his head in disappointment.
Without hesitating, Ludwig left the room with a sigh, leaving Peach to think about her performance.
Why hadn't she nailed it?
Peach groaned. Ludwig had grown a bit harsh and demanding ever since rehearsal started that morning. Instead of guiding and coaching her, she was embarrassed with curt corrections and a disheartening lack of faith.
He seemed too confident in his so-called experience to expect anything out of her.
Whether it be her positioning, tone, intensity, or even eye contact, she was instantly forced to start over if she was anything but perfect.
Instead, she continued the same scene over and over for several hours, trying to exceed Ludwig's expectations.
At first, she took each and every criticism with stride. After all, Ludwig cared about the production as much as she did, and he was looking out for her. Yet, the longer rehearsal went on, the more she realized that everything she did was not...good enough for him.
Eventually, compliance with his corrections led to frustration, which led to more mistakes, which led to defeat.
Constant nitpicking left her beyond frustrated with herself and unable to focus on anything but what she messed up.
While every fiber in her being wanted to prove him wrong, she was too inexperienced to meet his standards, no matter how hard she focused. She knew being a human had played a part in landing the role but was that the only reason she had made it this far? The more she failed, the more she felt as if her identity had been a first-class ticket to landing the lead.
Peach fell back on her bed as she released a huff of anger and frustration. Was she really not cut out for this?
What was she even trying to prove?
"I thought you were supposed to be an actress."
Peach quickly sat up at the sudden company. While she had instantly recognized the voice, Peach looked around the room, trying to confirm who accompanied her.
She had been here long enough to have the phantom's deep voice engraved in her head, right next to a huge warning sign that urged her to run away.
Turning towards the doorway, she was met with the familiar stature of the phantom, though he hid in the doorway, barely allowing his form to be visible. Half of his figure was hidden in the dark corridor while the left side of his face was gently lit up by the dim candles dotted around her room.
He resembled some sort of villain or murderous stalker, casually speaking from such a questionable angle. Peach frowned at his lack of awareness, as if she had been any other human, she would have screamed.
At this point, she expected it.
He looked intimidating and of ill intentions, hidden in the shadows, surely observing her far longer than he would like to admit. He seemed hesitant to show himself, almost as if he was certain he was unwelcomed, which wasn't completely false, as she was not happy to see him.
"I thought so too," she finally muttered with a shrug.
The king eyed her as he seemed intrigued by her response, making Peach even more uncomfortable than she already was. Instead of replying, he continued examining her, waiting for her to continue and elaborate.
Peach fidgeted with the hem of her dress as she tried to hide how anxious she was.
This was the first time they had talked after she had been honest with him. Peach's eyes fell to her feet as she realized how much he knew about how she felt about him.
"Did you...did you come to see how I did?" She awkwardly questioned with a hesitant smile, already knowing the answer. Though, considering how she had done, she wished he hadn't come in the first place. "I hope you didn't see any of that."
King Koopa hesitated as he maintained his curious glare. He shook his head.
"No, actually," he replied with a shrug as he leaned against the doorframe. "Came to tell Ludwig it's time for lunch."
Peach nodded in understanding, somewhat thankful for his disregard of her rehearsal. She didn't want to give him more material to patronize her, after all.
"Well, he just stormed out of here. Apparently I suck," she joked through a forced smile. "Or, as he put it, not taking this seriously," she repeated with air quotes in her best attempt to sound like the young koopa. Ignoring the fact that she had butchered his sophisticated accent, she was pretty proud of how accurate it was.
The phantom nodded as he seemed to have lost any sense of curiosity and, instead, had come to a conclusion.
"Take his advice. It comes from a good place," the phantom casually replied as if it were common sense. "Kid knows what he's talking about."
Peach tilted her head at his sudden words of advice, skeptical of his intentions, as she knew he wanted to do anything but help her. For once, he was the one approaching her, and it raised countless red flags.
Her gaze turned to the foot of her bed as she played back Ludwig's demanding corrections.
"It's not exactly helping. I mess up too much."
The phantom paused as he thought to himself.
Peach continued staring at the hem of her dirty dress, anxious of the way he looked at her; how he tried to figure her out.
"No one's perfect at first," he responded with little care.
Peach arched a brow, suddenly intrigued with his words of advice.
Was he being genuine?
"How would you know? I thought you were the flawless, perfect king of the Dark Lands," Peach mumbled with a clear layer of judgment, still on guard for his true intentions.
The insult seemed to fly over the king's head as he crossed his arms and nodded in content approval. Peach couldn't help but smirk at the subtle look of agreement on his face, especially since it was a lot less intimidating.
Is he...flattered with my insult? He seriously can't be that dull, can he? Peach thought to herself, trying to hold back a snicker.
The king's confidence fell to a subtle frown as he thought to himself. While silent, Peach found him easier to read, as he wasn't busy trying to fabricate his intimidating stature. He stood idly, all his attention on the woman before him.
He stood in silence, pondering over what she had said. Peach gripped her dress tighter, wondering why he was so interested.
"I know it's hard to believe, but I wasn't perfect at first," he suddenly replied while averting his eyes from his company.
The king cleared his throat, caught off guard from the look in Peach's eyes.
"Well, I am now, but at first I wasn't," he added with clear confidence, though Peach couldn't shake off the idea that it was a cheap attempt at backpedaling.
Peach silently stumbled as she attempted to reply to such an out-of-character claim from the phantom. To even acknowledge that he had, at one point, been faulty, was something she hadn't even considered. While she didn't consider him perfect whatsoever, she had assumed he had been born, in his eyes, flawless.
He had a past that he considered faulty? A beginning that was shameful? The idea of the phantom having any regrets or doubts was...unthinkable, as he was the image of confidence to the Dark Lands.
He was a monster with incredible power and little to no error when it came to his ruling. Even in the mushroom kingdom, he was known to be a confident leader. To many citizens of the Dark Lands, royal koopas were only half a step down from God himself.
In a weird way, she was flattered at his ability to admit such a thing. The king, too, stood in mild embarrassment, waiting for her to acknowledge what he had said. She understood that, at this point, he was being honest and genuine, which pained him.
"Then what do I do?" Peach murmured as she tried to keep a straight face.
The phantom sighed as he thought to himself, almost trying to remember how he would handle this. He nodded his head in conclusion before continuing in confidence.
"Well, I would beat the shit out of anyone who criticized me. Put 'em in their place. After that, I'd just correct myself behind their back if they were right. Sometimes you need to suck up your pride and just be better." He paused. "Running a flawless empire and dancing on some stage are really different, though," he added.
Peach cringed at the hypocrisy in his statement. While thankful to talk to someone about her questionable rehearsal, was this the person she should be talking to? A creature raised with violent and cruel tendencies?
Couldn't the same outcome be achieved without beating the person up? Was that a crucial step? She shook her head. Surely, ruling a kingdom warranted an abuse of intimidation?
Peach had countless questions about his train of thought but shook it off, as she would not be beating anyone up.
As if she could, anyways.
What a brute… Peach thought to herself with a bit of amusement.
Even more ridiculous was the fact that here he stood, giving her advice. Ignoring the suggestion of violence against his own son, Peach was flattered at the words that followed, as they were...smart. Though shrouded in little care, she could tell he was looking out for her.
Sometimes she forgot that the king was a tactical, ruthless leader, who was likely far smarter than herself. Most of the time, he was a pest who was only good at pushing her buttons. But, to help her was not like him.
It was common sense: correcting yourself based on the criticism of others. She was no stranger to mindsets like that, but she had never experienced a moment where she did not meet her own expectations. She had never been in the company of someone who would not compliment her performance, but point out her shortcomings, for the sake of improvement.
Was this what a true production was like? She had never realized how thin her skin was, as she gave up so quickly. Had she lived such a dull life where she never had a challenge?
Was her life so boring that she never had to improve herself? Her day-to-day life had always been the same and her expectations had always been met. But, with a massive production, was the bar set too high for her?
What was the solution? To challenge herself? To push herself?
Peach sighed as she wasn't able to find a clear answer. While the phantom had given her direction and guidance, she was left without an answer to why she felt as if it were so difficult.
Maybe she had too much on her mind; too many distractions.
In a weird way, his advice was flattering but also raised countless flags of suspicion. The monster who killed for seemingly no reason was helping her with no sign of personal gain. While she longed to form a friendship with him, this felt too fabricated to be completely genuine, no matter his intentions.
He was a monster, after all. There had to be reason.
Peach looked up at the king, who stood in respectful silence, waiting for her to collect her thoughts. He averted his eyes, caught staring at her.
Peach shrunk even further, her doubt growing at his poorly-hidden nervousness.
"Why are you giving me advice exactly?" She sheepishly questioned, earning an amused glare from him.
The phantom shrugged with no hesitation.
"Payback, I guess," he replied with little concern to her suspicion. Peach squinted, feeling a slight peak of defensiveness in his tone. "You said some pretty embarrassing stuff yesterday. Figured I could make it even."
Peach looked away from the phantom.
That's how he felt about her confession? It was embarrassing? Had he even considered that she was being genuine? Did he even listen to her?
Peach felt a bitter twitch at the back of her chest. She knew he was right but he didn't have to say it. Couldn't he at least be a little gentle? Well, it was her mistake for being so vulnerable in the presence of a dictator.
Why did she feel this way about an insensitive jerk? No matter how much he made her want to rip her hair out, she felt herself wanting to be around him. Was this some sort of cruel punishment? Was she destined to chase after people who didn't have her best interest in mind?
Peach's eyes fell down to the ring on her finger, her mouth falling to a flat line, as the answer was obvious. If she could invest years of her life towards a stranger who didn't care enough to physically approach her, she could invest her time into a monster who wouldn't emotionally approach her. She groaned as she realized how awful her taste was in company.
The king's eyes flashed in amusement at her silent distaste for him. Peach looked up, feeling his smugness from his silence. She opened her mouth to question him, realizing that pissing her off was his intention.
Peach was interrupted as a small head popped next to the phantom, looking directly into the room and smiling at the actress.
"Peachy! Needed to talk to you about-"
Daisy paused besides the doorway, turning her attention between the phantom in the entrance and Peach on her bed. She shivered at the look in his eyes, realizing he was not happy. Whether that was due to her appearance or because of Peach, she did not know.
She stood in silence, trying to deconstruct the situation. The king's eyes were spilling with annoyance and Peach was...anxious.
She continued looking between the two, taking in their images.
The two were polar opposites: Peach, a frail, adventurous woman, and Bowser, a criminal of a king covered in scars of intense violence. She couldn't help but smugly smile as she looked between the two, both silently groaning at her reaction.
"This seems a little more important," she continued with an awful attempt at being innocent, "I'll talk to you after-"
"I was just leaving. Do what you want," the phantom muttered with a roll of his eyes.
And with that, Peach and Daisy were alone, the king eagerly ditching the two humans.
Well, it hadn't been a complete lie; he had come to tell his son about lunch.
But, he had seen everything.
When Ludwig glanced away, she wiped away the tears she fought back, hiding how hard she was trying. He knew she was not one to be offended by criticism, but failure was one hell of a teacher.
She expected too much out of herself: a rookie. She had little experience and an impressive voice but her knowledge of the stage was lacking. Well, according to what Ludwig muttered when he stormed away, anyways.
Instead of her usual spirit, Bowser was met with someone so terrified of messing up that she crumbled and spiraled with each harsh word.
Had she been sheltered this much? Was she this...fragile?
No way Peach damn Toadstool is a sensitive little brat, Bowser thought to himself. But, no matter how he tried to uphold this image of the girl, he kept replaying how she had broken when she thought no one could see her.
He thought he had known this woman from his experiences with her, but he had never considered the fact that she was not perfect at everything she was passionate about. It's quite easy to fabricate your view of someone when you create your own expectations.
Had he expected too much out of her? He scoffed, realizing he had done that years ago. Why was this different?
He had felt...bad, even though he had no right to pity her as he had watched from the shadows. If anything, he should have laughed at her; mocked her. Instead, he watched with a heavy heart, hating how her eyes lit up with a fake glow when Ludwig instructed her.
Bowser cringed as he stormed around a corner of the labyrinth. Was that why he was pushed to reach out to her? Pity? Did he feel...obligated to help her?
Why did he care? Kicking people while they were down was a passion of his, yet here he was, feeling guilty.
He had many things to feel guilty about, all revolving around the brat. He had no doubt that part of her failure was due to her captivity and her worry. Even though he felt a bit of sympathy, he knew he was doing the right thing.
Something tells me...I should like you.
Bowser groaned as her speech was engraved in his head. Every annoying word, syllable, and pause had been permanently on repeat since she had left that morning. As embarrassing as it was, he couldn't shrug off what she had said.
The way she looked at her feet when she was nervous, her trembling hands, even her lack of eye contact, all remained in his mind, playing back how nervous she was. For an actress, she was not good at hiding her emotions.
Even though Ludwig couldn't pick up on, it was clear how frustrated she had been with his harsh instructions.
A mixture of annoyance and regret filled his head as he played back her sincere words. He had responded so fondly and it made his blood boil as he knew he shouldn't have. He had slipped up.
No, they were not going to be friends. Bowser shivered at the idea. She was a prisoner and was not permitted to leave. That's as far as their relationship would progress, and that's as far as he wanted it to go.
He would make sure of it.
Daisy sat on the edge of Peach's bed with an apologetic smile, worrying she had interrupted their plan. From the look on Bowser's eyes, she felt as if she had interrupted something.
Even with her years of knowing the king, reading him was difficult. He was a master of cloaking his true thoughts, as that was what he was expected to do as a king: be numb. Even now, locked beneath his own kingdom, he refused to be vulnerable.
But, in that moment, she had seen it: embarrassment.
He was embarrassed to be seen with her.
Daisy felt like a mastermind behind this plan, knowing there was no way for this to go wrong and there were nothing but benefits; Bowser would get more interaction with someone outside of his small circle, and, well, Peach would be set free.
Daisy leaned forward as she whispered.
"Everything going like we planned?"
Peach sighed. Why did this feel like gossip?
While initially a cruel plan that Peach had clinged to for the sake of her freedom, she now realized that her intentions were becoming pure. Even for the sake of freedom, she wanted to establish a relationship with the phantom. She could not deny that a lot of her motivation rested in the need to be set free, but part of her words had felt genuine.
Why was it so hard for her to admit? While she had admitted it to the beast himself, coming to terms with wanting to be around a monster was hard for the woman, as her life had never stepped out of being ordinary.
To admit that to Daisy was even more unlikely...Peach wasn't ready to talk about something so...bizarre, especially without proper reasoning.
Peach did not feel guilty for their plan, as it was no longer in action, for the most part. It existed in Daisy's mind, but that was harmless, as she was not involved. To avoid feeling shameful, Peach would avoid telling her until she felt comfortable.
"I told him I wanted to be...friends," Peach whispered before hesitating to continue. "I think he believes it."
Daisy's eyes lit up with excitement as she leaned towards her friend, barely able to hold back her anticipation for what would follow such a bold claim.
"You really are an actress!" Daisy cheered with a small snicker. "You shoulda seen the look on his face when I walked in! He was so embarrassed!"
Peach smiled as she gently laughed with her friend. Had he really been that caught off guard? She had guessed he was uncomfortable, at most!
Was it true? Peach smirked, assuming he got flustered and frustrated when embarrassed. The more she thought about it, the more accurate that sounded.
"Embarrassed? He looked furious as ever!" Peach giggled as she replayed him storming out of the room.
"He's like a kid, you know?" Daisy replied between laughs. "He got angry with his hand caught in the cookie jar."
"I'm a cookie jar?"
"Metaphorically!" Daisy added with a teasing roll of her eyes. "Like, he doesn't want me to know that he wanted to talk to you. He got caught so he ran away."
Peach slowly blinked as she processed Daisy's claim.
"You really think he wanted to talk to me? He said he wanted to get Ludwig for lunch-"
"Well, that was probably true," Daisy interrupted. "I don't know why, but I keep getting this feeling that he wants to talk to you. I mean, he hasn't acted like this before."
Peach turned her attention from Daisy to the open door. He had just stood there, willingly talking to her and even guiding her with genuine advice. She had to admit, it was strange, talking to a tyrant who chose to keep her around; who kept her alive.
She shook her head in disapproval, remembering that this was all out of pity. Or, as he had put it, making things even. Even so, did that mean he had a conscience? He could feel guilty? With the little emotion he showed, finding out that he could feel anything was monumental.
The fact that he had kept her alive showed that he had a sense of pity, but trying to make her feel better? Sympathy was not something she had thought the beast was capable of understanding.
Was he not so much of a monster she had assumed? Physically, he held all of the characteristics of a beast: a towering form, mangled appearance, and a lack of humanity behind his eyes. But, the further she was around him, the further she was convinced that he was just as complex as any human.
What else, besides hidden sympathy, lays dormant behind the beast's mask? Was it possible to find out what else he was hiding? Peach bit her lip in concentration as she could not find an answer.
Daisy stood up from the edge of the bed as she dusted off the front of her dress.
"I have to get going. I have some plans," Daisy continued with a wide smile. "Thought I'd check in on you before I took off."
Peach shook her head as she stood up.
"Wait, wait, wait! You mentioned that he had...never acted like this. How is he acting different?" Peach blurted out, realizing she hadn't gotten a direct answer for Daisy's claim. Peach cleared her throat, realizing how eager she had sounded.
Daisy walked towards the door, quickly answering Peach's question with a roll of her eyes.
"Well, you're here, for starters. He's keeping you alive. Should I continue?" She added sarcastically. "Look, I really have to-"
"Yes," Peach simply stated, earning an annoyed sigh from Daisy.
"Peach, do you really think a guy like him wouldn't lay a finger on a girl like you? Do you think the king of a tyrannical kingdom would keep one human girl alive?" She paused as she tapped her chin. "At first, I thought he hated you. Like, big time. I had to practically beg him to keep you alive! But, the more I see how he is with you around, I can't help but wonder." She shrugged.
Peach parted her lips to ask what she could possibly wonder about, causing Daisy to shake her head and quickly continue.
"No more questions! We can talk later! I can't be late for every little thing..." Daisy mumbled with a sheepish frown. Her usual energy returned as she hopped through the door. "Bye! Keep me updated!" She called over her shoulder.
Daisy rushed through the door as she closed it behind her, leaving Peach on her own for the third time within an hour. Peach sat silently as she listened to Daisy run down the corridor, surely on the brink of being late.
Peach crossed her legs as the clicks of Daisy's heels faded away. Finally, the creepy, eerie silence of the labyrinth was back.
She was truly alone. For once, that was exactly what she wanted.
Peach put her face in her hands as she groaned in frustration from the waves of emotions. First, defeat, then, hope. Why couldn't she have one or the other? Having both on her mind was...draining.
Defeat in production emptied her motivation, yet hope for a friendship with the phantom continued growing.
How could she clear her mind?