The word had spread like wildfire.
Online entertainment news sites and even a few local papers were suddenly bludgeoning readers with various headlines, such as 'Star of kids show is outed!' or 'Beatrice Beagle is discovered with woman at event!' and, in one instance, a really rude headline that used numerous slurs. Beatrice didn't have time to read them, however, because she was too focused on staring at the tiles on the hospital hallway floor. She had to keep herself distracted for the time being. Leslie, however, was scrolling through her phone, scoffing at various pieces she was stumbling upon, and some unflattering comments as well as some very supportive comments. After a moment she looked at Bea and opened her mouth, but decided against it. Liam, on the other hand, was in front of the public eye, trying to dissuade the general outcry and hounding reporters. How could he possibly handle this? He locked himself in his office at one point, trying to simply escape for even a singular moment, then opened the minifridge and pulled out a beer and popping the top, downing the entire thing in seconds flat. Jesus christ, why had this happened? Wasn't Beatrice aware of what would happen if she was discovered to be queer? Then again, Liam himself wasn't one to talk. He himself had never been very public about his own sexuality. He sighed and sat on his desk, rubbing his forehead. None of this mattered right now, he had to remind himself. What really mattered was Michelle, who was in a hospital bed and on machine that was helping her breath. She was what really mattered in this moment. Everything else could be dealt with later. *** "...what if she dies?" Bea whispered, sitting in the chair in the hallway, the same place she'd been seated for the last day, "...what if...she just...doesn't wake up? What if she's comatose?" Leslie set her phone down in her lap and leaned over, rubbing Bea's back. "She's gonna be okay, okay?" Leslie said, "trust me, she's got health coverage thanks to the studio, and you, and they'll take care of her. She's gonna be just fine. She'll wake up and we'll talk to her about her health and, and..." Leslie trailed off, then sighed. "...I don't like lying to you," she finally said quietly. "I appreciate that," Bea replied, "the last thing I need is dishonest hope." They heard a pair of shoes heading down the hallway and looked up to see a heavier set woman in a business suit walking towards them. She set her briefcase down and looked at the women sitting on the chairs before exhaling and holding her hand out, which Beatrice shook firmly. "My name is Delores. I'm Michelle's social worker," she said, "I tried to get in touch with her only to be told she was in the hospital for the last day. Is she okay? How has she been? Is there any kind of-" "There's been no news for a few hours," Bea said, "but she's...she's strong, she'll probably be fine." "May I sit down?" Delores asked, and the woman nodded; Delores grabbed a chair and pulled it over across the hall to theirs and seated herself before asking, "what happened? All I know is that she collapsed and was taken here immediately. I heard it was at some kind of event?" "That's really all we know too," Bea said, "it was at an event, an event for my show, but I don't know what happened. I just know that she fell over, couldn't breath. I know she has health problems, trouble breathing, that she's been in and out of hospitals since she was a little girl because of it, but I can't say that I know what the problem exactly is or what's effecting her new as a result of it." Delores nodded, sucking on her lip, shaking her head, then started crying. Leslie stood up and walked over to Delores and hugging her, which Deloris appreciated and hugged back. "She'll be okay. I'm sure she'd be so thankful you cared and came," Leslie said. Beatrice had to get away from this for a moment. She stood up and excused herself, heading down the hall and around the corner, then leaned against the wall and shut her eyes. She took a long deep breath and then heard banging nearby. She opened her eyes and looked down the hall to see Eliza standing in front of the candy machine, banging on it with her fist. Beatrice smirked and walked further down the hall, approaching Eliza. "Did it eat your money or not deliver the goods?" Bea asked, "I could get you something else if-" "It just...took it!" Eliza shouted, "It just took my dollar and didn't give me anything in return!" "Well, honey, calm down, it's not a big deal, we can just-" "Why does life keep taking things from me!?" Eliza shouted, putting her hands on the snack machine glass and crying, "why...why does life keep taking people from me?" The sadness, the pain in her voice...it broke Bea's heart. She reached out and pulled Eliza against herself and let her cry as she rubbed her back. "It's okay, she'll be okay," Bea whispered, even if she didn't know if she believed it herself just yet, "...she'll be okay honey." "She's my best friend," Eliza whispered. "I know, I know that, and I'm sure she'd be so grateful you were here and were so worried," Bea replied, "it's okay. Life...just...does this. It takes things from us, whether we want it to or not. We just have to cope with it, learn how to accept it and try to stay strong. But she's young, she has money thanks to the network, and she'll be okay, okay? I'll make sure of it. I'll guarantee she's okay." Eliza didn't even respond, she just cried harder, and Bea just stood there and let her cry on her. After all, she'd dedicated her life to being there for others. Why stop now? *** It was several hours later, and still no change or news had come through. Delores had gone to get everyone dinner, and Eliza had fallen asleep on the couch of the waiting area, which was mostly empty now, thanks to the time of night it was. Beatrice was standing, staring out of a large window and out at the twinkling night city, when Leslie approached her from behind. "Liam's on the phone," she said quietly, "he wants to know how we move forward with all this...you know...queer stuff." "...why is it always on me?" Bea asked, and Leslie furrowed her brow, then put the phone back to her ear. "She'll have to call you back," she said, before hanging up and walking up beside Bea, asking, "...why is what always on you?" "...feels like, my whole life, I've always had to be the one who keeps things together. We helps everyone feel better. What happens when I need someone? What happens when, suddenly, I require the same kind of love and kindness I've spent my whole life doling out? Michelle is why I'm here. Michelle and Keagan are why I came back at all. Michelle proved to me that what I did, even at my worst, had worth. Had value. I wouldn't be doing what I'm doing right now if not for these girls. And now...now she's lying in a bed and I don't even know if she's alive, and...and I feel like I have no one to turn to." "But you do," Leslie said, "you have Liam, you have Eliza, you have me. You have ME, Beatrice." "My name is Amelia," Bea said, surprising even herself at this sudden admittance, "...my real name is Amelia Burden." "Well, whatever your name is, you have me," Leslie said, "I'll be here for you, I am here for you. I know how close you two are, I know how much you must hurt, and-" "No, no you...you don't," Bea said, finally starting to cry silently, tears rolling down her face as she looked out the window, "...everything I've ever truly loved has eventually found its way to a hospital. I wasn't there for my dog because I was too busy doing school and work, and then she got sick. I wasn't there for Michelle because I was too busy dealing with merchandising, and then she got sicker. I've never been there when I'm actually needed, only after the fact, only once there's nothing left I can do to change things." "I don't think you could've changed things, baby," Leslie said, "this shit happens, you just have to deal with it. She's gonna be okay, okay?" Beatrice looked at Leslie, as Leslie, using her sweater sleeves over her hands, wiped her face free of tears, making Bea smile before she glanced back at Eliza, sleeping on the couch. Beatrice sighed and shook her head, looking back at Leslie. "...Eliza is a mess," Bea said, "I don't...I don't think I've realized until now how close she and Michelle have become, and...and it worries me. If something happens to her...Eliza's already dealt with enough loss, she can't...she wouldn't be able to..." "Shhh," Leslie said, kissing Bea's forehead, "it's okay, it'll be okay. Come sit down. You need to rest." Leslie, taking Bea by the hand, led her to a pair of seats, and they sat down together. After a bit, Leslie dozed off, but Bea continued to look out the window, just from afar now. When she checked her watch, it was now 5 in the morning, and she heard the doors to the waiting area open, and turned to see Keagan entering. Beatrice stood up and smoothed her clothes out, then walked up to Keagan and, before she could even speak, flung her arms around Keagan and squeezed her tight. Together they sat down a bit aways from Leslie and Eliza - both of whom were still sleeping - and took deep breaths. "I'm so sorry, I was tied up with something and I couldn't...is she okay?" Keagan asked. "I have no idea," Beatrice said, "they haven't told me anything in hours." "...god I hope she's okay. I feel so bad for not being here earlier, but...I don't know how to explain this, but...being black, I've had a hard time making friends with white people, understandably. But Michelle, she just took me at face value, and she accepted me, and she wanted to work with me. We've become a bit distant lately, but I need to fix that. I need to make the effort to get back with her, like we were before, and work together again." Bea smiled, nodding, patting Keagan's hand. "...she can't die, Bea," Keagan said. "...she won't," Bea replied, "She'll be fine." Even if she didn't necessarily believe it herself, there was no reason to not say it to others. *** Leslie had returned to work, Delores had done the same, and Eliza had been instructed by Bea to go home and get some relaxation in, which she couldn't argue against. Now it was just Bea sitting in the hall outside of Michelle's room, once again counting the tiles, and thinking about her life with Michelle...and a life possibly without her. She sighed and scratched her head, terrified of the idea that Michelle might not be here tomorrow, or even later tonight. She swore under her breath, furious that nobody had come to talk to her in so long. Then she saw a woman approaching, and she was surprised, because this woman looked rather professional. A suit, well done hair, clearly someone who was coming to tell Bea something. "Thank god, I've been waiting for so long, I didn't-" Bea started, but the woman held up a hand to stop her. "I'm not a doctor," she said, "sorry, hah. I'm Celia Helms, I'm...I'm Michelle's mother." This hit Beatrice like a freight train. "...well, where the hell have you been?" Beatrice suddenly said, a feeling of ire in her voice, "I mean, if your her mother, why haven't you been here the last day?" "Well, I was at a gala event for my work, and I didn't even know at first, but once I was informed, I couldn't just leave, that's unprofessional," Celia said. Beatrice couldn't believe what she was hearing. She balled her hands into fists, and spoke through gritted teeth. "Get. out. of here." she said sternly. "Excuse me?" "Get. the fuck. out of here, NOW," Beatrice repeated, "before I pull that stick from your ass and beat you senseless with it. You have the fucking gall, the sheer audacity, to put your work over your own child, make her feel bad about her health issues, then not even show up when she winds up in the hospital? What a conceited blowhard you are, holy hell." "You can't talk to me like this!" "I can talk to you however damn well I want!" Bea shouted, "you know why? Because I've been there for her! I came immediately! I followed the goddamned ambulance to this fucking hospital, because unlike you, I give a shit about her well being! I was in the middle of a work event too, but guess what? This takes precedence! You have no right to call yourself a mother. Just because you give birth to someone doesn't inherently make you a loving person. You still have to put in even the most minimal effort, something you've never done in regards to your family." Celia was in shock. Nobody had even talked to her in this manner, especially not someone in Michelle's defense. She didn't really know how to appropriately respond. Bea walked closer, her face right in Celia's, their eyes locked, and Celia shaking in her heels. "Now," Beatrice said, "you get the FUCK out of her, or you'll find yourself in a hospital bed." Celia nodded, quickly turned and walked briskly away and around the corner. Bea leaned against the wall, breathing heavily, quickly, until she felt a hand on her shoulder and looked to see Liam smiling at her. "When did you get here?" she asked. "Literally a second ago, to see that stunning display of motherly affection," he replied, "God damn Bea, that was...that was heavy." "She doesn't deserve Michelle, and Michelle deserves better," Bea said, before looking at Liam again and falling into him, as he wrapped his arms around her and consoled her while she cried into his shirt. "I'm sorry I didn't come sooner," he said, "I've been trying to fend off reporters and paranoid parents alike about, well, you know. But eventually I realized that could wait. There's no need to clear the air on something that isn't bad to begin with, even for the sake of some lunatics piss poor excuse for a belief system. The network is fielding everything for the moment, and I decided to come down here and-" "I need you to do me a favor," Bea said quietly. "Yeah, of course, anything at all." "Get me my head," Bea said. *** When Michelle finally opened her eyes, it was almost two whole days since she'd lost consciousness. Her eyesight was blurry at first, but she was able to ascertain right off the bat - likely thanks to a lifetime being spent in hospitals - where she was. If anything, she wasn't sure if she should be more annoyed that she was in a hospital, or grateful she wasn't dead. Michelle shut her eyes again and took a long breath, the best she'd taken in weeks it felt like, until she looked to the side of the bed and noticed Beatrice, in the full suit, sitting beside the bed. Michelle's eyes widened and she tried to sit upright. "Bea?" she asked. "I'm here," Beatrice replied, standing up and touching Michelle's face with her costumed paws, "you're safe now. I was in the hospital with you as a child, and I'm in the hospital with you now. You're okay, Michelle." Michelle wanted to cry. This was, bar none, the nicest thing anyone had ever done for her. She tried to sit up more to give Bea a hug, but Bea met her halfway, and hugged her tightly. Michelle couldn't believe Bea was here, nor that she would put on the suit just for this situation. It was in that moment that Michelle realized how lucky she was. After a moment the door opened and Eliza poked her head in. Beatrice backed away and said she'd bring them something to eat, then left the room as Eliza sat on the chair Bea had been in. "...hey," Michelle said weakly, coughing a little. "...you're alive," Eliza said, her eyes darting around the room, as if hoping to look at anything other than her best friend, "...they didn't tell us anything for a long time, so...so nobody really knew if, you know." "Well, I'm here," Michelle replied, "did anything else happen while I was out of commission?" "...the candy machine ate my dollar," Eliza said, making Michelle laugh a little, which hurt. "Well," Michelle said, "When we get out of here, I'll give you a new dollar." And for the first time in nearly two days, Eliza laughed, and it felt good to laugh again. Eliza then suddenly stood up and flung herself on Michelle, hugging her tight, and Michelle hugging her back. Michelle had never had visitors when she was in the hospital as a little girl...and now? Now she couldn't keep people out of her hospital room. And she was SO grateful for that.
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"Michelle?"
No answer. Eyes shut tight. Body limp on the ground. "Michelle?!" Sounds all around. Noises and whispers. Everything was still at least slightly audible. Then the sound of sirens in the distance. Then everything went silent, and nothing was heard anymore. *** "You look good," Leslie said, leaning against the wall as she watched Beatrice put earrings on in front of her vanity in the bedroom. Leslie was already dressed, in a loose white blouse and tight jeans, with Beatrice having yet to choose her outfit for the appearance. Beatrice sighed and shook her head, pushing her bangs from her eyes. "I really don't want to do this, I'm no good at public stuff," she said, as she felt Leslie standing behind her now, massaging her shoulders. "You're gonna be great, okay? You're unveiling the doll, announcing new episodes, have a little meet and greet with some kids, it'll be a fantastic day," Leslie said, leaning in and kissing her neck, "and everyone will be there. Liam, Eliza, everyone will be there to support you, alright?" Beatrice nodded, just as the doorbell rang, and Leslie ran to answer the door. Beatrice stayed staring at herself in the vanity mirror and thought about herself. About what people might think of her when they see her in person, outside of the dog suit. Would kids like her, or did they just like Beatrice the dog? She nervously chewed on her nails and began to pace back and forth, just as Liam entered the room, leaning on his cane as he walked. Beatrice looked at him as he walked in, and furrowed her brow at the reappearance at his cane. "You still have that?" "Some days my left leg doesn't work so great," he says, "I think I did nerve damage to it when I...well, you know." "Indeed I do." "Anyway, ever since the hospital stay, I've had to use it on and off," Liam said, "so, you gonna wear something to this event or just go like that?" Beatrice scoffed, chuckling as she headed to the closet, pulling the doors open and peering inside. Liam walked up behind her and looked in as she reached inside and pulled the light string, illuminating her wardrobe. "Should I be fashionable, casual, what?" Beatrice asked. "I would choose something casual, sure," Liam said, "but it depends on how much you care about how others view you. See, me, personally...I'm an attention whore. I refuse to leave the house without looking fabulous. You think this just happens? Nah. This takes time and effort." "You're so goddamned annoying," Beatrice said, laughing, shaking her head as she leafed through pieces of clothing hanging from the closet until she finally pulled out a light blue long sleeve button down shirt and a grey wool skirt. She turned and held them up against herself together before asking, "well, what do you think?" "They need a new name for lesbians with no fashion sense like you. I know there's chapstick, but you're not chapstick, you're more like...well, I don't know but you're boring," Liam said as Beatrice started to get dressed. "I'll take boring over dramatic any day," she said, pulling the skirt up around her hips and zipping it up alongside the side before adding, "the last thing I need is attention." *** Eliza was standing in front of her bathroom mirror in the upstairs hallway, clipping some of her hair back up when she stopped and stared at herself. She pulled her glasses off slowly and looked at herself again. Blurry. She couldn't see. She slid them back up on her nose and sighed as she pulled the tube of lipstick out and applied it, just as Michelle entered the bathroom, surprising her a bit. "What are you doing here?" Eliza asked, checking her watch, "You're...15 minutes early." "Well your dad let me in and told me where you were, so I figured I'd find you instead of waiting in my car," Michelle said, almost wheezing, "but boy...those stairs are killer on my lungs right now." "You still having trouble breathing, more than usual?" Eliza asked, "what about that little machine?" "It's doing its job but it can only do so much. My poor biology is much stronger than medical science, sadly," Michelle said, "why are you putting on makeup? Should I have put on makeup?" "I don't know. I just...I figured it would be good to look good. It is a public appearance," Eliza said, "I could put makeup on you." "I...I don't think I've ever had someone apply makeup to me before," Michelle said, laughing a little, "never really had girlfriends growing up, no slumber parties or whatever it is girls do together, but it...it could be fun, sure. I look good in eyeliner." "I could do that, sit down," Eliza said, snapping her fingers and pointing at the toilet, where Michelle took a seat as Eliza rifled through her makeup bag, found her eyeliner pencil and then knelt down so they were eye level as she started to apply it. Being this close up, Eliza couldn't help but realize just how odd Michelle's eyes were. After a moment she stopped and said, "you know, you have two different eye colors." "I know." "That's really neat," Eliza said, "it's very pretty." "Thanks," Michelle said, smiling as Eliza continued. "So," Eliza asked, biting her lip, "do you...do you know if I'll have to speak at this thing? Cause I'm the one who actually designed the doll. I'm not good at public speaking." "I'm not sure but I'd like to think if you didn't want to they wouldn't make you," Michelle said. Eliza stopped, her free hand on Michelle's face, staring into her eyes and looking at the job she'd done thusfar. She knew it was bad to make a move without consent, but she couldn't help but feel like all she wanted to do was kiss her. She leaned in closer, breathing hard, then raised her pencil hand again and continued applying eyeliner. "Your breath smells nice," Michelle said, laughing, "smells like fruit." "I had a smoothie for breakfast," Eliza said, laughing nervously, "but thank you." After another minute she was done, and she capped her eyeliner pencil again. Michelle stood up and admired herself in the mirror before thanking Eliza and saying she'd go get the car started. Once she was out of the bathroom, Eliza locked the door, then leaned her back against it and did her best not to start crying. She wouldn't want to reapply her makeup, after all. *** "I love your cane," Leslie said as she, Liam and Beatrice drove to the event in Bea's car. Liam smirked and watched as Leslie looked at his cane up close, adding, "the detailing is absolutely incredible. Did you get someone to carve this for you personally?" "Please don't humor him," Beatrice said. "No, humor me," Liam said, "and yes, I hired someone who does woodworking to carve this for me. It's a visual representative of a trail Marvin and I used to love to hike. See, at the top, in the knob, there's a mountaintop, and a sunset, and it all leads up the cane to that image." "That's so sweet, I wish I had a cane that was symbolic of my love for Beatrice," Leslie said, handing his cane back. "When we get home I'll cripple you, how about that?" Beatrice asked, turning onto a street and approaching the venue as Liam and Leslie laughed uproariously in the backseat. They loved getting to her, and today was a good day just for that. Irritating her was Liam's way of making Beatrice distracted from what scared her, and she appreciated his efforts. She pulled in and parked, the three of them getting out of the car as they noticed the crowd already gathering - parents and little kids alike - and the area that was set up outside just for her, with a cardboard standee of Beatrice waving that the kids could take their pictures with. "God I'm so nervy," Bea said, digging through her purse, "fuck, I didn't bring any cigarettes. Did you guys?" "I have a joint in my pocket," Leslie said, smirking. "God you're perfect," Bea said, grabbing her by the wrist and dragging her away as Liam shouted after them. "Just don't be late! We're on a schedule here!" Meanwhile, in another lot, Michelle parked and pulled her hair back into a ponytail. Eliza opened her door and climbed out the passenger side as Michelle got out and locked the car up. Together they started to head across the street towards the event. Eliza couldn't help but notice that, with every step she took, Michelle was wheezing a little. "Um, are you sure you should be doing something physical today, if...if you...ya know...are having this much trouble?" she asked, "ya know, with your health and breathing and stuff?" "I can't just put my life on hold cause of it," Michelle said, "I have responsibilities." "Is Keagan coming?" "She and Lexi had to meet with an accountant today regarding the money Lexi got from her father," Michelle said, "but they're gonna meet us afterwards for dinner. You are coming to dinner, right?" "Di...dinner, like...with you?" "Yeah, with us," Michelle said, laughing, "You're our friend." Eliza's heart sunk. She nodded, stuffed her hands in her jacket pockets and continued walking close by Michelle's side. She just couldn't bring herself to say the truth. *** "Say it again, say I'm perfect again," Leslie said, sitting on Beatrice's lap as they were sitting on top of a trash can in the alley near the toy store, and Beatrice rolled her eyes as she made a grab for the joint, just as Leslie jerked it away and laughed, saying, "come on! Say it and you'll get more!" "Fine, you're perfect, okay? You're the most perfect amazing woman to ever live," Beatrice said, taking the joint from Leslie and taking a long puff, just as Leslie leaned in and kissed her on the collarbones, making Bea laugh and blush, as she added, "Come on! Jeez, you horn dog!" "I can't help it, weed puts me in the mood," Leslie said, "Also, you rarely wear skirts and you look so good in them." Beatrice took a long drag and then exhaled before looking at Leslie and smiling, blushing. "You're so beautiful," Beatrice said, whispering, "like...like so beautiful. I wanna take you to meet my parents. They live out in the country and I think they'd love you, not like I do of course, but still." "You're so corny, man," Leslie said, chuckling as she took the joint back, took a long drag and then exhaled as Beatrice leaned up and licked her neck, making her screech in surprise and laugh hard as she said "geez!" before grabbing Bea's face and kissing her hard. Beatrice, for so long, had hidden who she was, and who she loved, only because she was a private person, not because she was ashamed. But after hiding it so long, being with Leslie this way, so publicly, it felt so good...so real. As the kiss broke, Bea and Leslie looked into eachothers eyes and Bea realized for the first time in her life that she was, even with everything going on around her, truly happy. "Beatrice?" a voice asked, and both women looked to the end of the alley only to see a little girl standing there, holding the doll. They were giving them out as a promotion, and she'd already gotten one, squeezing it tightly to her as she added, "I recognize your voice." Both women were frozen, and as Leslie attempted to climb off her, an older woman, clearly the girls mother arrived at her side and grabbed her hand, staring to apologize before realizing what it was she was seeing. She stopped mid sentence and stared, unsure of how to react. After a minute or two of awkward silence, she just tugged on her daughters arm and they headed away. Beatrice exhaled deeply as Leslie adjusted her blouse and fixed her hair. "Well," she said, "that was sufficiently awkward. Guess we should get going. You've gotta give a speech." *** "God, look at the turnout," Michelle said, "this is fantastic!" "It's a lot of people. You wouldn't get me in a crowd this big if it wasn't for her," Eliza said quietly. "Same, honestly," Michelle replied, "oh, there's Liam! He's on the stage!" Michelle grabbed Eliza's hand and pulled her closer, squeezing her hand tightly as she got more excited upon approach. By the time they got to the little makeshift stage and podium in front of the toy store, even Eliza couldn't help but smile, as Michelle's joy was simply contagious, and she was happily infected with it. Liam tapped the microphone and cleared his throat as he began to speak to the crowd of kids and parents. "Hello," he said, "My name is Liam, and I'm Beatrice's best friend. We are here today to celebrate the release of the very first Beatrice Beagle talking doll. And of course, my friend Bea is here, and she will happily talk to any and all kids who want to meet her! These dolls are made by our very own puppet maker on the show, and we cannot be grateful enough to her for her efforts in bringing it to life!" He glanced to the side of the stage and noticed Bea standing there, nervously chewing her lip. "And now, please kids, welcome miss Beatrice Beagle herself!" he said, moving aside to let her approach the mic, standing behind her now as everyone applauded politely. Beatrice got to the microphone and tapped it, then exhaled nervously and blinked a few times. "Beatrice Beagle is a dog, and dog is mans best friend," she said, "and that's why I wanted to make this wonderful doll made by my wonderful friends, because everyone deserves a best friend who loves them. Far too often, kids are-" "Do you think same sex relationships are a good thing to promote for children?" a woman in the crowd asked, interrupting her, "because I heard just today that you were seen, by a child, kissing another woman near the store. What do you have to say about that?" "I...I uh...I don't know what you're..." Bea said, stammering, stumbling over her words, her emotions caught in her throat. "I don't think kids need to be subjected to anyones sexuality, straight or otherwise," a man said, interjecting, "how could you come to an event with children as the primary audience and then flaunt it?" "Flaunt it? It was in an alley!" Bea said, before realizing what she'd just done. She looked back at Liam, who was quickly realizing he needed to do damage control, but Bea then turned back to the mic and added, "I mean, I kissed someone, yes, but it...it was out of sight and, and uh..." she glanced to the side of the stage, looking at Leslie before saying quietly, "...I'm sorry?" And all hell broke loose as other parents started to chime in, and Bea relinquished control of the podium mic back to Liam, but he was drowned out by the audience. Michelle, looking around, was horrified. Simply horrified at the ridiculousness of the situation. She looked at Eliza, and then she turned and started to walk away angrily, Eliza in tow. As they got further from the crowd, Michelle finally started to stomp her feet on the ground. "Why is it that every time something nice starts to happen for her, someone ruins it?!" she yelled, "this was supposed to be a big day, a huge event, and that...those bigoted assholes are just...god! Who cares who loves who?!" "I...I don't..." Eliza said, fighting to find what to say in response. "I mean, she's actually genuinely happy, and they're stuck in bad marriages, often with kids they never wanted! Just like my mom! God! They just wanna take whatever morsel of joy they can from those who can actually attain it because they're pissed they couldn't have it themselves!" Michelle said. "Can I...can I tell you..." Eliza said, trying to find courage. This was it. This was the moment. This thing with Beatrice being out in the open, and now Michelle's ranting. Eliza knew she'd never have a better chance. "I just cannot stand..." Michelle said, "...cannot...stand..." She stumbled back, grasping at her chest as Eliza watched in horror as she dropped to her knees and then fell onto her side. Eliza screamed and then jumped up and down, calling for Beatrice, who quickly left the stage and raced over there, a crowd behind her. Beatrice knelt down beside Michelle and patted her on the face, her eyes nearly closed now, breath barely escaping her throat. "Michelle?" No answer. Eyes shut tight. Body limp on the ground. "Michelle?!" Sounds all around. Noises and whispers. Everything was still at least slightly audible. Then the sound of sirens in the distance. Then everything went silent, and nothing was heard anymore. "I'm not going to just say whatever it is you want me to," Beatrice said, standing in front of the microphone in the recording booth, hands firmly on her hips, "I am not going to just stand here and read out whatever trivial nonsense you put in front of me. If we're going to do this thing, then I'm the one coming up with what comes out of it. These words are coming out of MY mouth, after all."
"She has a point," Liam said, sitting in a chair next to Steph, who had come down here from the studio to give what she considered moral support, but what Beatrice knew was actually damage oversight; Liam put his pencil behind his ear and shrugged, continuing, "I mean, she is the doll, after all." "She is making every single aspect of this process a living hell," Steph muttered, and Liam chuckled. "Yeah, I told you she would," he said, "Don't say I didn't warn you." "Can't you do something?" Steph whispered, frustrated, scratching her forehead. "If you think I have any control over what she does, then you've sorely misjudged our relationship up to this point somehow," Liam said, "that being said, I can talk to her." This interaction was 4 days ago. They hadn't rescheduled a recording session since. *** "If I can write the character on the show, why can't I write the dialogue for the doll?" Beatrice asked, sitting at a table in The Hole with Michelle, while Eliza worked on a puppet nearby. Lately, Beatrice had been taking shelter in The Hole when she didn't want to be found, because she knew nobody was stupid enough to visit Eliza without being invited; Bea bit into an apple and chewed, adding, "I don't want this doll to say the same stupid crap they put into every doll on the market. I want it to be special." "And you have every right to want that and to push for it," Michelle said, the machine on her arm making a beep as she took a long deep breath, and added, "but at this point I think you're wearing them out." "Good, maybe they'll drop the whole thing," Bea said. "What would you have it say? Have you even come up with some lines?" Michelle asked as Eliza started up her sewing machine behind them. "I...I don't...no, I haven't, so I don't know, but that's beside the point. I could easily come up with a slew of things for the doll to recite, if I needed to," Beatrice said, "and besides, it only really needs one line. It only needs one really good line for it to be worthwhile." Bea leaned back in her chair and sighed. She pulled a package of cigarettes from her pocket and then looked at Michelle, who nodded, allowing her to continue. Beatrice rarely smoked, but she'd been doing so more and more lately thanks to the added pressures from all this marketing. She lit up and sat there, puffing for a few minutes while they listened to the whir and hum of Eliza's sewing machine nearby. "I don't want it to be like everything else," Bea muttered, "I want it to be meaningful. Impactful. When they come across it as an adult in life, I want them to be able to look at with the mindset of what it did for them emotionally, and not just be something else they donate to a thrift store while clearing out their moms attic." Michelle nodded, understanding. After all, she'd gotten that from the show when she was in the hospital, so she knew all too well how important it was to connect to something that could, in theory, save you. Eliza shut her sewing machine off and seated herself at the table with them, sighing. "What if you just had one line?" she asked, "Just one singular line that was the best line possible?" Beatrice and Michelle exchanged a glance before looking at her, waiting for her to continue, so she did. "You think about it night and day and eventually you'll come up with one very important line that kids will want to hear on repeat, because it makes them feel comforted and special and heard," she added, "all it takes to help a child is one sentence." Little did Eliza know that this sentence would ruin the next few days of Beatrice's life. *** "What's the one thing you never heard from your parents?" Michelle asked Keagan and Lexi as they sat around the table to eat that night. Keagan, who had cooked again - this time a giant baked pasta dish and some greens - thought about it for a minute before shrugging, while Lexi took a sip of her drink and sighed, sucking her teeth. "That I was more important than money," she finally said. "I guess I don't really have one," Keagan said, "my parents are great." "Mine would be that I mattered more than my mothers career," Michelle said, picking up a fork and scraping some of the pasta onto her own plate; she continued, "all my life all I ever heard was how disappointed she was that my illness siphoned off her time and energy to work on her projects and be the success she knew she could be. It was like I was sick on purpose or something." "Your mom sucks," Lexi said, chomping into an asparagus she'd picked from a plate before chuckling and apologizing; she said, "Sorry, I just, I've never met your mom so I guess I don't have any problem admitting she sounds horrid." "You're not wrong," Michelle replied. After a few minutes of eating, Michelle cleared her throat and asked again, "So, now, as an adult, if you could hear one thing from your parents, what would it be? What would bolster your self esteem and confidence more than anything else?" Each girl thought about it for a bit, and eventually nobody responded. Michelle grimaced. "Jesus, are we so grim and detached that we can't even have nice fantasies?" she asked, "That's worrisome." But Beatrice, humorously enough, was having the same problem. Across town, in her apartment, she was sitting on the couch with Leslie's legs outstretched across her lap as she chewed her lip and jotted down line after line in a small notebook, frustrated that she too couldn't come up with anything. She sighed and looked around the apartment, feeling empty. The trouble with art being born of pain, she always knew, was that if you have no pain, you have no depth, and thus no art. But she knew that was bullshit. She knew art wasn't solely born of pain, and that pain didn't automatically give one depth. People, and their emotions, were far more complex than that. Beatrice glanced at Leslie, who was eating ice cream out of a single pint container while watching some nature show. "Do you think I'm too controlling?" she finally asked. "God, do I always have to answer you?" Leslie asked, making Beatrice chuckle; Leslie smiled and added, "Naw, I think you're protective of who you are and what you do, and I think you have every right to be. I think what you make represents who you are, because so much of you is put into it, and it only makes sense you'd wanna be protective, and perhaps controlling, as a result of that. Anything that's shoddy looks bad on your part." "Thank you," Bea said, "finally, someone else who really understands. I don't want this doll to be just another doll. I want it to be special and important, and to mean something, you know? I want it to make a difference to a child, not just be an entertaining distraction for a year or so." "Have you come up with anything yet?" Leslie asked, nodding at the pad, but Bea shook her head and slumped back into the couch. "Of course not, why would I?" she asked softly. Leslie sat up and smiled, putting the now empty ice cream container on the floor beside the couch before reaching over and touching Bea's face. Bea looked towards her and blushed. "You will," Leslie said, "I have faith that you will, and that it will be amazing and perfect and so very you. Because you're Beatrice, and you know what you're doing, and what you want. I believe in you, even when you don't." "God you're so saccharin," Bea said, the two laughing as Leslie pulled her in and kissed her. *** "You're pissing them off," Liam said during a shooting break the following day. He and Beatrice had snuck off to the back of the studio, near the dumpsters, so they could share a joint and be alone. Beatrice, still in costume but with the head sitting on her lap, smiled as Liam leaned against the wall and took a long puff. "Good," she said, "I want them to be pissed off. I want them to be so tired of me that they refuse to work with me any further and drop this whole merchandising idea." "I don't blame you," Liam said. "What made you change your mind? How'd you go from being so into the idea of making more money via shilling out to protecting intellectual property?" Bea asked, sitting on the top of the dumpster as Liam pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose and thought. After a minute he kicked a crushed can with his shoe and exhaled. "...I was younger, and stupid, and I didn't realize at the time what this meant to you," Liam said, "After meeting your folks, after seeing the grave, I get it now. I wholly get why this means what it means, and why you'd fight tooth and nail to not overly commercialized and thusly sullen it at the behest of capitalism. But also, I think...not having you in my life, being essentially cut off - and understandably so might I add - made me realize you and what you made were far more important to me than money could ever be. Losing Marvin, I guess, really made me reassess what's truly important." "You really miss him don't you?" Bea asked. "More than you could ever imagine. He was my entire world," Liam said, "he..." he started to sniffle, and took a long breath before continuing, "he used to write these little notes in the morning, since he went to work before I did, and uh, and he'd leave them on the pillow so they'd be the first thing I'd see when I woke up." "That is so cute it makes me wanna puke," Bea said, making Liam laugh, nodding. "Yeah, and they were always so fucking cheesy, you know, just the most ridiculously sappy things you could think of, but I loved them, because it showed he thought of me, and he cared about me enough to take even just a minute every day to do something he knew would make me feel good. It's not about the time you spend with the people you love, it's about how you spend it. Well, maybe it's sorta both, but you know what I mean," Liam said. "...do you still have those notes?" "Yeah, of course. I keep them in a little scrapbook, you wanna see 'em?" he asked, and Bea nodded. Just then the backdoor opened and a stage producer leaned out, informing them they were needed back on set. Beatrice climbed down off the dumpster and put the head back on, sighing. "After the filming, show me, I'm curious just how much he thought of you," she said. *** "Well," Steph said, "Hopefully we can work past this now, and get this thing on the road. I'm glad you were able to reschedule." "Hey, she's the one who asked me to confirm the date, don't thank me," Liam said. Liam and Stephanie were sitting in the editors booth, watching Beatrice in the recording room. She was pacing, back and forth, scratching her head furiously, like she was having a nervous reaction. Stephanie leaned towards Liam and lowered her voice. "Let me ask you something," she said, "and please, don't be coy, just tell me outright...is she gonna be okay? She doesn't seem like the kind of person who can handle copious amounts of success very well." "She'll be fine, don't worry," Liam said, before leaning forward and pressing a button, letting him speak to Beatrice, "BeaBea, we're ready to roll tape. You okay in there? You need a few more minutes or what? Can we make this thing happen now?" "I'm fine, Liam, thank you," Beatrice replied through her own intercom, just as the door opened and Michelle entered, much to Liam and Steph's surprise. Stephanie turned and looked at Liam, her eyebrows raised from curiosity. "What is she doing there?" "I...I don't know," Liam said, half laughing from nervousness, "maybe she asked her to come in for moral support or something." Beatrice, in the recording booth, turned and looked at Michelle. She walked over and she knelt down, getting on her knees and putting her hands on Michelle's. Michelle looked into Bea's eyes, confused. She had asked Michelle the previous night to come into the booth with her today, but hadn't specifically informed her why, and the entire day she'd been nervous as hell. Bea took a long, deep, slow breath and then locked eyes with Michelle too. "I haven't been around a lot lately," she said gently, "and I apologize. I've been so busy. But I am here because of you, and what you and Keagan did for me, and I want you to be here for this, because what I'm about to say didn't come from me, but I mean it 100%. Do you understand?" "I...uh...not really, but okay," Michelle said, the both of them laughing anxiously as Bea reached up and stroked her hair. "I couldn't be here without you," Bea whispered, before kissing Michelle's forehead and then standing back up, walking back to the microphone. Michelle had never been more confused, or felt as good, in her life as she did right then. Beatrice adjusted the arm of the mic, and licked her lips, before grabbing a bottle of water on a nearby stool and uncapping it, taking a long sip. She then breathed out, then pulled the mic to her lips; she said, "I'm ready, Liam." Liam hit record from the other side of the booth, then grave her a nod, indicating she could go anytime. Beatrice looked at Liam, then looked back at Michelle, then looked back at the mic. "I'm here," she whispered. She did one take. Liam had to leave because he knew where she'd gotten the line from and he couldn't help but burst into tears. He could still remember the day Marvin had left it on the pillow beside him, and it was the last note he'd ever left him. And Michelle...Michelle felt the wind knocked out of her. It could've been something so cliche, so simplistic that a million other dolls had already spouted: "I love you", "you matter", "believe in yourself", but Beatrice, to her credit, delivered the one thing it seemed so many parents couldn't give...herself. She had given herself to children, wholly. She wanted kids to know they were not alone, and that they could depend on her no matter what. Beatrice walked away from the mic and knelt down again, putting her hands on Michelle's face and smiling, tears running down both their cheeks. "I'm here," she repeated. "I know," Michelle replied, "I know." Michelle and Bea hugged tightly, and all the jealousy Michelle had been feeling lately melted away in a singular moment. Fuck, she didn't need a doll. She had the real deal. |
About
Beatrice Beagle follows a young woman obsessed with a defunct pizzeria and kids show featuring a dog mascot. As she uncovers more about its mysterious past, she becomes sucked into the life of the woman who played the mascot, they both discover just how much they need eachother. Archives
April 2024
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