Chapter Thirty-Five: Taking the Power Back
Beetlejuice stared at Lydia, speechless. For a moment, she just stood there at his front door, watching him just stand there in some strange stupor. Just when the incredibly odd moment became nearly too much to bear, his blankness began to twist into that all-too-familiar rage. This time, however, it was far worse than anything she'd previously witnessed from him.
"...And just what the fuck is that supposed to mean?" he finally spoke, his voice low and menacing. He wasn't chasing her or screaming and thrashing about like a mental patient, and somehow that was a thousand times worse.
Lydia felt her jaw tighten from gritting her teeth. Her body was just as tense. "S-she heard you saying some things about me."
"She thinks yer Bessy. What the hell would I say about you?" he continued his icy, demon like stare.
"Trixy didn't know it was me. She said Lydia." Lydia explained but couldn't bring herself to speak on it any further. Apparently, she couldn't say it either. Sure, it was the psychotic ghost appearing as if he'd chew her face off that stopped her and not some strange form of emotional constipation like Beetle had shown but stop her it did.
"And you believe her?" he continued, seeming to lean in a bit closer, possibly in a defensive act of intimidation.
"Uh, should I?" Lydia backed up a step, beginning to slightly doubt herself, mostly due to his influence. Still, every bit of the situation was nagging her. It was nearly pulling at her insides at this point.
"She's a lyin' bitch. 'Nough said." he snapped, taking her chain and yanking it hard, as she fell in line behind him, walking toward the back of his house.
"Hey...Where are you taking me?" Lydia questioned him, her unsettled emotions causing her to open her mouth and spew more words. However, he didn't answer her, and that made her bristle all the more. Okay, this was horrifying. Was he going to go through with that weird head-removal fantasy thing he had going on? Hold her hostage only to literally play frisbee with her head later? She sure as hell hoped not. "BJ! Where-" Lydia tried again, only for him to whip around and stomp up to her.
"SHUT IT, DEETZ!" he yelled in her face, and for the first time in a long time, she actually felt insanely pissed off.
"NO!" she began to buck up, yanking back on the chain and causing him to stumble a bit. "You aren't giving me any clear answers here!"
"Oh, you can fuck right off, Deetz! You don't want answers, ya want somethin' to hold over my head!" he seethed.
"So, you didn't say those things?" she continued, placing even more pressure on him. Why, she was so incredibly curious, she had not the slightest idea. However, she was, all the same.
"NO!" he fumed, punching the side of the wall and losing his temper.
It was obvious he wasn't being truthful, and she didn't know just how the hell it had happened. One minute, he hated her, the next he was doing some rather strange things concerning her. It was the most baffling thing she'd ever seen, and it somehow made her that more inclined to cut through the bullshit and see just what was going on with him. He was the entity that actually had her fooled, and nobody else actually done that before. Rob, Delia, countless fair-weather friends and exes hadn't fooled her. She simply chose not to see what was right in front of her to protect herself. All that time, she realized Beetlejuice deeply resented her, but she saw very little else besides hostility come from him. She'd banked on his blatant, brutal honesty, if nothing else, and she, too, found that to be a fraud. Something about it felt weird and buried and deep, but she pushed it aside enough to actually speak her mind to the idiotic, mean-spirited ghoul she'd secretly idolized all those years.
"Then how did she know about me? Trixy could have said literally ANYTHING to piss me off! She doesn't know who I really am, BJ! You're a terrible liar!" she threw the words he often hurled at her right back at him for once, her chest heaving with a strange exhilaration from actually standing up to him.
At that moment, it all happened so fast that she didn't realize it until she'd hit the floor of her apartment, choking on a thick, green cloud of smoke. "What the hell?" she choked out, realizing that he'd shoved her back into her realm. That was more telling than any words could ever be. The only question remaining was why?
...
Lydia sat in front of her twisted reflection in the shattered mirror of her vanity that Beetle had destroyed, much like the rest of her apartment. "How did you get here?" she looked deep into her own eyes, seeing a glimmer of the sadness that caused her to spiral time and again in her life. All she wanted was to make things right to an insanely powerful, likely dangerous poltergeist, and now even he wasn't who she thought he was.
Why was she even upset? His weird thoughts had nothing to do with her, though technically they were, quite literally, about her. It wasn't really that particular subject, it was the fact that he wasn't what she'd tricked herself into believing. She'd felt so worthless, that she'd let him back in, feeling like he was her own personal savior. Strangely enough, he was, but he was also hiding something that was far deeper and more destructive than she'd realized.
If he held some strange affection for her, shouldn't that make her happier? Aside from the fact that he was gross and dead, it would have been great to know she wasn't as hated as she'd thought. However, it was simpler when she thought he was a misunderstood dead guy with a chip on his shoulder and a huge grudge against her. Now, her own personal narrative was taking another nosedive. Why would he treat her like a literal dumpster if he felt like that? It was an obvious cover up, but for what?
Lydia initially thought his vengeance was his anger, but she was beginning to realize that whatever it was, it ran far deeper. "Oh my god..." she quietly gasped. "The museum." She felt the same hard shove there. It was him. More things began to add up. She knew he wasn't one to purposely help her, but she didn't realize that he'd come to her with more than a shitty attitude. She stood, slowly stepping over to a drawer, pulling it out and eyeing her personal belongings. Then she pulled out another, and another. "Oh, god. He's gone through everything." Lydia whimpered to herself, realizing that she'd been completely vulnerable when she called him back into her life.
Now that she began to get her wits about her again, she saw every detail her fried brain hadn't noticed before. He'd asked about her money, her boyfriend, her job - her credit cards. She was too depressed and out of it to really think anything more of it, though any sane person would know right off that he was trying to take everything away somehow. Everything working out wasn't planned to actually work out to her advantage, it simply had. He didn't want her to be happy, and she realized that, but she didn't realize that he was no begrudging friend. Somehow, he wanted to tear her world apart, and she was too delirious to see it. She'd been completely delusional.
"Now what?" she gazed out into the dark morning sky, the horizon beginning to flush orange with the rising light of day. It was about time for another mental, booze, weed, and sex-filled breakdown, but this time, strangely enough, it wasn't coming. Why wasn't she sniveling in the floor with a beer bottle in her hand?
Lydia slowly paced about the trashed apartment, eyeing it from top to bottom. Maybe she was okay because she said what she meant for once - with Robert and Candice, with Delia, with herself altogether. Sure, things were falling apart now, but they already were before she'd even called Beetlejuice's name. She originally hoped he'd fuck up everyone else's lives, but it was hers who he was actually after. Still yet, she wasn't full of regret for calling on the menacing spirit. Somehow, he was what she needed, and she wasn't about to go insane over it. She was getting stronger, and she knew it. Besides, she held all the power she never thought she'd had. Three little words and he'd never come back.
Why hadn't she used them? She straightened her sequined dress, thinking to herself. "Because I was afraid to." she whispered to herself under her breath. He'd made her feel powerless around him, and he wanted to. Why was that? Why else would anyone do that? Because he didn't want her feeling well enough to send his ass back. "BJ..." she sighed, wiping her hand down her face.
It was at that moment, that she realized she was in complete control. She had nothing to fear, and whatever he was trying to pull, he'd never get to really. Not if she pulled the plug on him. HE was powerless, unless she handed it all over to him again, which she would not. Ever. Again. Strangely enough, however, she didn't want to send him away. Maybe it was that gods forsaken curiosity, or just maybe she was a big, soft, peacemaker on the inside, but she really didn't want bad blood between them. She wanted forgiveness, sure, but she was owed a bit of an apology too, now that she thought about it. Once again, she knew she may never get either of those things, but she remembered that wise man she'd spoken to. She wanted to do the right thing, and that was giving him a chance to be less of a shitty, undead human being. Unfortunately, she still did care about the idiot. Just like she did about all the people she'd currently told to fuck right off. She didn't want to have to tell him to fuck off too.
Suddenly, Lydia was ripped away from her revelations by the ringing of her phone. She warily stepped over to it, picking it up. "Hello?"
"Lydia! Where have you been? I've been calling you for days now!" Delia's exasperated voice burst through the speaker, causing Lydia to pull the phone away and wince.
"Uh, why?" she blurted out, not sure why the hell Delia wanted to talk to her after she'd literally ass-bumped her shitty sculpture to oblivion. Well, she was actually pushed, but who the hell would believe that?
"I wanted to make sure you weren't passed out on the street somewhere. Your father and I know how you are when you take your little fits of rebellion." she snarked, as Lydia rolled her eyes. "And don't roll your eyes! I know you always do when I say that!"
"I'm very much sober and alive. Thanks for your concern." Lydia returned the sarcasm, ready to hang up on Delia. "Okay. I've gotta go."
"NO! WAIT, LYDIA!" Delia screeched. Lydia deduced that she likely had hearing loss due to Delia's multiple, inhumanely loud phone calls over the years.
"What?" Lydia's brow furrowed, as she seated herself, wondering what the hell Delia was about to tell her. She figured it would be a previously pent-up, seething lecture about what a screw up she'd turned out to be.
Of course, when she heard what Delia had to say, her jaw nearly hit the floor. "You know you can have your position back if you straighten up and start to respect my work."
That wasn't going to happen. However, for once, instead of self-loathing, Lydia's mind went in another direction. Was this perhaps a way to snake her back into doing the work nobody else in their right minds would put up with? Was the great and visionary Delia Deetz actually struggling without her proverbial punching bag there to dump massive loads of responsibility upon? "But didn't one of the interns take my place? What about Darren? Wasn't he our number one guy?" she questioned, trying to pry the truth out of Delia.
"I can't. He transferred to another museum as soon as the position came open." Delia spoke hesitantly, seeming none too happy to divulge the information.
"Oh?" A small smile began to crawl across Lydia's lips. "And what about the others? I'm sure they'll love to take on my role temporarily until you can find someone qualified for the position. You do have applicants lined up, don't you?" Lydia continued to rub salt in the wound she knew Delia had. She knew all along that nobody would dare work with her, she'd just never used that information to her advantage before.
"Of COURSE we do! I'm just helping you out." Delia patronized her, obviously hiding her true intentions.
"I appreciate the offer, but I couldn't." Lydia replied, hearing dead, astonished silence on the other end of the line. "It's only fair that someone who truly deserves to work with you should have that job."
"Lydia, you NEED to come back! This is too much of an opportunity to throw away." Delia demanded, clearly inwardly panicked.
"Eh, it's fine. I need to work things out, anyway." she admitted, realizing that she had a ton of qualifications that she could literally use anywhere. "I should go. I'll talk to you later."
"NO! I NEED YOU BACK HERE, LYDIA! IT'S A MESS! NONE OF THESE PLEBIANS ACTUALLY KNOW WHAT THEY'RE DOING! THEIR WORK IS TERRIBLE!" Delia began to beg, in her own egotistical way.
"Mine wasn't that good. You told me that multiple times." Lydia reminded her about the numerous daily brow beatings she'd received under the tyranny of her stepmother.
"Fine. Is it a raise you want? Just don't tell the others, and I'll let you back on. I'll throw in an extra vacation." Delia began to bargain. It was only a matter of time before anger and acceptance set in, Lydia figured, considering losing something valuable usually led to that sort of grief. Truthfully, she didn't need a big promotion or anything, she simply needed the truth that she'd known all along. Most of her museum's continued success was due to Lydia's unrelenting, diligent work and managing. Delia had been keeping her down to control her, much like someone else Lydia knew.
Of course, she couldn't blame it all on her demon-slash-stepmother. She was a grown adult, and she owed it to herself to keep others from steam rolling over her. Delia's voice was so stressed and miserable on the other end of the line, that Lydia realized that was all the validation she needed. "That sounds like a great offer, but I'll have to decline. I have...something else lined up." Lydia lied, though she knew finding employment wouldn't be too hard in the city that, quite literally, never sleeps. She'd figure it out, one way or another.
"Are you...sure?" Delia asked, her voice suddenly sounding frail and fearful. She needed Lydia all along, not the other way around.
"Yes, Delia. I'm sure." she said with much confidence, realizing some things were just worth a lot more than prestige and a hefty paycheck.
"Lydia, I'm sorry...I-" Delia began, only for Lydia to take her power back and end the whole mess of a conversation.
"I know, Delia. Me too. Talk to you later." she said softly, clicking the button and hanging up on her permanently former boss. Damn, that felt good.
