It was opening night!

Absolutely nothing got Marisol going like opening night of a show she was part of and Heathers: The Musical was going to be her first show in New York. It was a monumental night, as far as she was concerned and she was going to share it with the people who were special to her.

Her mom was not going to make it out, though she intended to come to one of the weekend shows during the second week. In her place, Marisol’s New York family—Tío Jorge, Tía Gemma, and her little cousin Chase—would be in the audience supporting her. They would not be alone, as some of Marisol’s coworkers wanted to come out to support her. And of course, front and center would be Marisol’s best friend, Celeste.

Things with Celeste were great on the surface, but Marisol was quietly suffering a massive crush that she could not tell her best friend about. Celeste had her boyfriend Jude and Marisol did not want to make things complicated for a fledging relationship. Even worse, she did not want to make things complicated for their own friendship, and feelings could definitely do that.

Thankfully, Marisol could put those concerns on pause for the night because it was opening night and her mind was on the show. Heather Chandler had a big role in the play, both as a Queen Bee and a sassy ghost, and Marisol wanted to nail the performance not just for herself and her high standards, but for the friends she had on the cast. Much to her surprise, she felt like she had actual friends on the cast! Not many, but any was more than what she would usually earn.

Things with Siobhan started rough from day one, but Marisol liked to believe things got better. They had to work together a lot, which meant spending a lot of time together. Not all their time was spent with Marisol in what she affectionately referred to as “Chandler Mode,” which was for the best. She was not a true “method actor,” but she did like to get into the headspace of her role and Heather Chandler made her more confident, more forward, and maybe even more intimidating. In a way, she was an exhilarating headspace to be in, but not the most friendly.

Still, friendships seemed to be forming against all odds. Mari and Siobhan were total introverts, but Dani, the girl playing their Heather Duke, was indomitably friendly and seemingly took her shy costars under her wings. The rest of the cast joked that they were becoming the Heathers if they were a force for good lead by a Bizarro Heather Duke.

As with any show night, Mari spent most of her day mentally preparing for the performance. She was one of the first ones to the theatre and the first in the changing room. The makeup girl arrived soon after and helped get Marisol’s stage makeup ready while things were still quiet. She pointed out, after several direct suggestions, that Marisol was in “Peak-Chandler Mode” and Marisol would not argue. She had her own confidence, she had Heather’s confidence, and she was going to kill it on stage!

With time to spare, Marisol slipped out of her comfortable street clothes and worked on getting into the costume laid out for her first act. She slipped into the plaid skirt and pulled the argyle stockings up to her thighs. She even grabbed her red scrunchie and kept it around her wrist. Putting it in her hair would still be premature since her hair would have to be tended to when the rest of the hair and makeup team arrived.

Mulling over the red jacket that completed her outfit, Marisol considered the temperature of the dressing room. It was slightly warm and would only get warmer as more bodies crammed into it. The jacket would make her hot, which would make her sweaty, which would be uncomfortable to deal with all night. The jacket would wait until absolutely necessary. She set it aside and took a seat with her script and song book, not bothering to put a shirt back on. She had a plain red bra on, but she was backstage. It was sacred theatre ground where the rules of modesty seemed to shift. When you had three minutes to make a full costume change, you often had to set aside your pride and start shedding clothes the moment you’re offstage to make your transition.

So Marisol sat in front of her mirror, greeting cast members when they shuffled in and running lines to herself. When the actress playing Martha crossed by her, jokingly accusing JD of murdering Ram Sweeny, Marisol even grinned and shouted her famous line, ”Well, f*** me gently with a chainsaw!”

Yeah, it was going to be the best night ever.

Celeste hopped off the bus stop in front of Mari’s school. Today was her big day and Celeste couldn’t wait to watch her be an amazing Heather Chandler.  Luckily, Celeste had mostly recovered from the strange and awful Halloween night. Besides the mental effects, her body had healed relatively nicely. Bruise colors mostly gone. Knife wound healing nicely. All in all, pretty well.

She honestly had no idea what people were supposed to wear to plays like this. Was it formal? Was it casual? Celeste, on the safe side, chose formal. It was a pretty typical Celeste outfit, though. A little below the knees length dress with floral patterns – a cream white with black and some light brown colors. She also, of course, wore a coat – a simple grey coat that covered her upper body. It wasn’t something she was planning on having on long. After all, every building she went in seemed to be 100 degrees now. 

Celeste was early but she wanted to see Marisol before the play actually began. After all, she wanted to be here for her best friend the same way Marisol was there for her during the march. She wasn’t too terribly into musicals and plays, but she knew how much it meant to Marisol. Plus, it wasn’t that she didn’t like them – she just never had the opportunity to be involved in them. Now that she was with Marisol and out from her toxic household, she could do whatever she wanted, after all. 

The school seemed mostly empty as Celeste creeped in. She probably wasn’t really supposed to even be in here yet, but the door was unlocked. Whether it was supposed to or not, she had no idea. Either way, she slipped into the school easily. She wasn’t exactly sure were Marisol would be but she figured she’d follow where lights were on and noise was coming from.

It didn’t take her too long to find were the auditorium would be. After that, it was just a couple hallways later before Celeste was (mostly) positive she was going in the right direction. It was getting warm, as expected, so Celeste took her jacket off and put it over her arm. She heard, although barely, Marisol’s voice with a joke about a chainsaw? Weird convo to be having in a changing room, but whatever. This was Marisol’s natural area.

She walked up to the entrance of the changing room, the click of her heels most likely betraying her, and she knocked softly, “Hey, Mari! It’s meeee!” 

The door to the dressing room creaked slightly when it opened, so Marisol noticed Celeste in her mirror right when she walked in. The presence of her best friend was enough to make Marisol’s face light up. It would be easy to blame her excitement on the crush she was harboring, but honestly, it just made her feel special to know she had someone in her life who wanted to be there supporting her. In such a short time, Celeste had become an important person in her life and Marisol was excited to share the biggest part of her life.

Marisol spun her chair around and hopped to her feet with an excited squee. She was still there in a bra which, under any other conditions, would give her a near heart attack in front of Celeste. Drawing from the well of confidence that was the theatre, Marisol barely gave her half-clothed nature a second thought. She ran to Celeste and threw her arms around her friend, squeezing tightly. ”I’m so glad you came! I mean, I knew you were gonna come but yeah, I’m really excited to see you,” she said, beaming with joy and pride.

Relinquishing her tight grip on her friend, Marisol stepped back to give the blonde a once over. ”Oh wow, darling, that dress totally works on you.” And it really did. It was another thing that might have been a hang up, but she was already possessed by Heather Chandler. She took the directness another step further, tugging at the lapel of Celeste’s coat. ”Though it is really too warm in here for that coat. You should take that off before you get too hot to handle,” she suggested with a playful wink.

”So are you excited for a night at the theatre?” Marisol stepped back to lean her butt against the makeup counter, folding her arms under her chest. ”I know this isn’t really your thing. It means a lot that you came.”

Celeste couldn’t wait to see Marisol perform tonight. She knew Mari had been looking forward to it ever since she began – and she even seemed to be making several friends within the theater. That was even better. Celeste wanted the best for her bestest friend. This marked that greatness – after all, she was bound to be on  Broadway sooner than later. 

Celeste eyes widened as she saw Marisol – shirtless aside from a bra – run over to her and hugged her relatively tightly. She wasn’t entirely sure why but the sudden sight and the warmth of Marisol’s skin as she touched her in the hug made her feel… Butterflies. Also, slight painful discomfort due to healing stab wound and bruises that almost gone. Celeste nervously giggled, “Of-Of course I’d come. Who do you think I am, some jerk?” She stumbled out of her mouth as the hug ended. “I’m so excited to see you, too.” 

Celeste immediately turned a deep blushing red at the sudden onslaught of compliments from Mari. She timidly waved her hands, “Oh, you, I mean, it’s just my usual kind of dresses…” A nervous giggle later, “It is a nice dress, though, eh.” Too hot to handle? Did Mari just hit on her… And wink?! Firstly, what happened to her best friend? Secondly, why did her stomach feel like there was enough butterflies in her stomach to have a collection? It wasn’t the first time Mari had caused certain… Feelings to rouse inside her. But this time it hit her surprisingly fast. Probably because of that cute, little bra… Celeste quickly averted her eyes from Mari’s chest. 

It was like her feelings with Jude, really. Did she have a crush on her best friend? She really liked Jude and that didn’t change nor her desire to be with him…. But was she actually… Bi? Like a girl? Like Mari? In that way? Celeste wasn’t sure ever since that cheek kiss but the feelings now nearly confirmed it. Sh*t. 

“I’m so excited!!! I can’t believe I’m actually going to be watching and even knowing the star in a play! AHHH!!!” She squeed a little in excitement. She was tremendously excited to see Mari play – with or without these strange feelings. 

Celeste was, as always, brimming with support for her best friend. In so many aspects of her life, Marisol needed the boost Celeste provided. It was a little different with theatre; being on stage put Marisol in her element. Performing was one of the few things that Marisol had the utmost confidence with, so the friendly support was not needed, but that did not mean it was not welcome. That was what friends should be, right? The people who supported you through the good and the bad.

Always one for modesty, Celeste downplayed the compliments on her dress. It was certainly part of her signature style, but that did not mean it did not warrant a compliment. Marisol shrugged her shoulders. ”I don’t know, I mean, your usual kind of dresses just work for you. You look great in whatever you wear,” she added honestly. ”Though like I said, the coat should probably go.”

Marisol stepped closer to help remove Celeste’s coat, but stopped when she saw signs of discomfort in her friend, reminding her of the knife wound she was still recovering from. Mari had been around to help Celeste in any way she could and when her friend was comatose, she spent more free time than she would admit visiting. ”Oh, I’m sorry. Is it still sensitive?” she asked, delicately placing a hand on Celeste’s abdomen near, but not on, the spot of the wound.

Pulling her hand away, Marisol tucked a lock of her recently dyed blonde hair behind her ear. ”It’ll be a great show and I’m just one of many stars. The two playing Veronica and JD are great and my fellow Heathers rock. The one from your school is hella talented and hella wonderful.” Beyond her social struggles, Siobhan really was a talented actress and Marisol respected her for it.

Celeste gave Mari the biggest grin Celeste could possibly give at the moment. Marisol seemed to into what she was doing, so confident, it took her by surprise. It wasn’t a bad thing at all – in fact, it warmed Celeste’s heart to see her so strong, confident, and well gorgeous. It took a moment, but once Celeste wasn’t focused on, well, her best friends breasts, she nodded her approval before checking the half outfit that Mari was wearing. “I love the hair. And the outfit. And the bra, actually. Is that Victoria secret?” She asked. There. Now Mari wouldn’t think it was weird she was staring at her breasts a few moments beforehand. It was clearly about the bra. Right? 

She shrugged and brushed the compliments off, “Well, thanks, Mari, I appreciate that. Not nearly as gorgeous as you, though!” She teased. She nodded and began to remove the coat with Mari. Unfortunately, Mari did so in a way that brought a small sharp pain to her. It was a pain that Celeste had learned to maneuver around when she put her jackets on. She gave a weak smile and nodded, “It’s fine. It is still sensitive, just a little sore still. It’s healing really well, though. My skin, were the bruises were, is finally getting back to a normal color. Finally.” 

Once her coat was off, she placed it on a nearby coat rack and moved over to lean next to Mari. “Well, you’re my favorite star. And you’re destined for big things.” She squeezed Mari’s hand, ignoring the fluttering in her heart. “Siobhan? Right?” She probably butchered the name, but at least she tried. “I’m glad to hear. She’s so quiet at school, I kinda worry about her.” She sighed a little, “Kinda nice to be able to disappear, though.” She muttered that more to herself than anyone else.  She grinned towards Mari, “So, how prepared is everyone? Are you guys ready? I know you and Siobhan are, but what about the rest?”

Marisol was glad Celeste liked her new hair color. She might not keep it very long, but she liked the way it looked and worked for her role as Heather Chandler. Celeste also liked her costume, and Mari had to agree; the Heather Chandler look was flat out hot with the skirt and stockings.

And she was complimenting her bra. That was possibly the first time since her friend entered that Marisol was aware of her state of dress. It would have been mortifying on any other day in any other setting, but nothing was bringing her down on Opening Night. ”It is! I mean, it’s pretty simple, but I figured the audience wouldn’t see it anyway. Though maybe I should have gone for something a little lacy? Heather might go lacy, the more I think about it.” Sure, it was not necessary to coordinate her undergarments with her costume, but Marisol liked going the extra step to embody her character.

The injury Celeste sustained on Halloween was terrible, especially since Marisol was not around to keep her safe. She was an adapted after all; she could have kept people safe from the creepy mutant effects they all fell under. But of course, Marisol had rehearsal, so now all she could do was offer support. ”I’m glad it’s getting better.”

It was interesting to know how small a town New York could feel like. Her best friend and her favorite castmate were from the same school, even if they did not know one another. It was one of those coincidences that got you thinking about the role of fate in the world. ”I think we’re ready. The cast is really top notch. We had a shaky rehearsal last week, but the last few runs have gone smoothly.” Lines were down pat, blocking was on point, and costume changes were handled like clockwork.

Which reminded her! ”Oh, you should totally prepare for my costume in act two. Actually, wanna see it?” It was on a nearby rack, after all.

Celeste was finally adjusting to confident, theater ready Mari. It might have took a few moments, but she could tell she was adjusting – minus the flutters that erupted every now and then. 

She nodded her agreement and then shrugged a little, “I think Heather would go lacey too, but again, I’m sure no one else is going to see it besides me and the other people changing back here. None of the… Audience? Will.” Celeste was secretly grateful she didn’t go lacey, though, because the mental imagine had Celeste getting all sorts of strange feelings.

She nodded, “I’m sure it was just the nerves. You guys got this, hands down.” She gave her a big smile, “I know you guys do. Plus, this is your space. You know how to do everything and more.” She knew it wouldn’t Mari that screwed the play up if something went wrong, that was for sure.

She nodded, “Yeah, I’ll see it. What do you mean by uh, prepare it? Do I need to iron it or something?” She asked, timidly and nervously. She wasn’t really sure how it worked backstage. Could she even come back here during intermission? 

Celeste was right; since the bra was going to be hidden throughout the show, (barring some tragic wardrobe malfunction,) it did not matter if she went plain red or lacey red. It was just for the sake of her own peace of mind and she could admittedly go over the top. ”You have a point. Hmm. And I guess if I change my mind I can go lacey for the other performances.” Of course, that would mean changing her “costume” between nights, which felt like a breach of superstition.

When Marisol brought up her second act costume, and Celeste seemed confused. Why should she prepare? How should she prepare? It was adorable talking to someone who did not know the show cover to cover because they did not know what to expect. Marisol had half a mind to keep the surprise intact, but she wanted to give Celeste a closer look before the show. ”Oh, you’ll see. One sec!”

Marisol moved toward a nearby rack of bagged costumes and sorted through them until she got to the bag marked “HC#2” and pulled it off. Unzipping the bag, she returned to Celeste and unveiled the red négligée she would be wearing during her death scene and all subsequent scenes as the ghost of Heather Chandler. ”Check it out. I don’t think I’ve been on stage wearing anything quite like it. I was kinda nervous about it when I first saw it, but I think I’ll be alright. It’s very Heather Chandler.” It definitely suited the character and, when the play started, Marisol took a backseat to Heather.

Celeste mind wandered off, her mind imaging Marisol in a sweet, red, lacey bra. Red looked good on her. Really good on her. She shook her head more to herself and realized Marisol had said something. She perked a brow and looked at her with a confused expression before it hit her what she said. “Oh… Yeah, totally! It’s up to you.” It’s not like anyone else would see. Luckily, it looked like Mari was so into character already that she didn't really notice Celeste stumbles, stares, and everything else. That was a good sign, at least. 

She perked a brow, clearly confused as she watched Mari leave and then come back with a bag with HC#2 on it. She wasn’t sure what surprise lay within it, but when Mari pulled it out she nearly had a heart attack. “You’re going to be wearing that in front of everyone? W-wow.” She stuttered out. Marisol would look really good in it – red already complimented her really well. She nodded, “You are going to look absolutely gorgeous in this, Marisol. Not that you already don't, of course.” She checked it out carefully, not wanting to accidentally mess it up (somehow.) 

“It is very Heather Chandler,” she concurred. 

Marisol’s second act outfit was a bit daring, but she was going to handle it. She was an actress and, while part of her still considered a career in dancing, she could also see her life spent on a Broadway stage. That was not the kind of life where she could afford to be shy or modest; there were too many roles in the world she did not want to preclude herself from. The role of Heather Chandler might have been a break from her “type,” but that was a good thing. She finally had the chance to show off her range, so she would not screw it up.

Celeste must have been nervous for her as well, because it was coming through in her voice. It was interesting to see, because Celeste was rarely that nervous around Marisol, yet there she was stammering and looking wide eyed. And wow, there was an unexpected compliment at the end. ”Aw, thank you! You don’t have to be nervous for me,” she assured Celeste cheerfully and bluntly. ”I’m just gonna show a little skin; I’ll be fine! Heck, with how often I used to go to the beach during the summer, this is nothing. I more or less spend the whole season in a bikini, if you can imagine,” she added with a chuckle.

Carefully taking her second act costume back, Marisol returned it to the garment bag it belonged in. ”Do you know if any of the girls from the diner are making it tonight? Or are you gonna be running solo as my number one non-family fan out there?” There was also the possibility that Jude had accompanied Celeste and was claiming a seat in the audience, but Marisol would intentionally ignore that possibility.

Marisol made this look so easy. Celeste just smiled as she watched her - this was her natural habitat, her place, where her passion & dreams were coming true. Truly, Marisol was bound to end up on Broadway. Celeste could feel it in her bones. Granted, it was still a wild ride to see Marisol this... Confident. Maybe shew as just into her role as Chandler? That might explain why she was so... Brave, about everything. It was just going to be weird seeing timid Marisol in that type of outfit. In either case, it ultimately didn't matter. Marisol had the beauty for it, plus the talent. 

Yeahhhh, she totally was nervous for Marisol. That was definitely why she was so nervous. "A little skin doesn't hurt," she chuckled nervously as she leaned against one of the dressing tables. "California girl, should have known you'd be a beach babe." She winked, not entirely realizing what she said until after it was too late. She'd probably just take it as a... Regular, compliment thing, anyways. Celeste nervously chuckled but then Marisol asked her another question - was anyone else from the diner going to be in attendance?

She nodded, "Barb is here. You know she wouldn't miss it for the world. None of the back room guys are coming, jack *sses. Probably too busy smoking weed or something." She shrugged, "A couple of the girls are coming, though. Tracy, Bianca of course." She shrugged, "That's the only ones I know are coming." She winked, "Just remember: I'll always be your biggest non-family fan out there." She checked her watch, "Oh. I better get going. You're going to do great today, alright?" It wasn't like Marisol needed any comfort - she was clearly ready for it. She squeezed her shoulder as she bundled her jacket up.

It was opening night. It was opening ****ing night!

To say that Siobhan was nervous would be the understatement of the century. No, the girl was not nervous. Not nervous at all. She was downright petrified.

She was in the bathroom, the same one that she had run to during the first rehearsal, trying to work up the courage to exit. Her makeup was already done, and she looked as close to Heather McNamara as hair, makeup, and a costume would allow. She looked the part and she had already proven during rehearsals that she could play the part, but she wasn’t sure yet that she felt the part.

Then again… it was McNamara who had broken down crying in front of the whole school and told them about her anxiety issues, and the worries that came with them. It was McNamara who would ultimately be redeemed and would see the end as a different person. Maybe they weren’t all that different after all.

Siobhan took a deep breath and smoothed her skirt. She had this. She had to have this. If she didn’t go out there, she knew that she would regret it for the rest of her life. So, she turned to the mirror, fixed the tiniest bit of her makeup, and then walked out of the bathroom.

She was sure that Sybil would be in the audience, cheering her on, and that she would have some of her friends from Xavier’s there to support her as well. It wouldn’t be as big of a crowd as some of the people, but it was too far for the rest of her family to travel out to see. One of her friends had offered to film the event for them, though, so they would still get to see some of the highlights.

The back of the stage was buzzing with excitement and energy. Siobhan slipped easily through the crowds where she spotted one of her friends in the cast. Marisol and her had started out on the wrong foot, but they had become friends over the course of the many rehearsals. It was… weird thing for Siobhan, though. She knew that Mari and her were just friends, but she felt something else for her. It was something that she wanted to squash down and ignore, but she just couldn’t. Especially not she was wearing nothing but a bathrobe…

Siobhan flushed bright red, silently wondering how she was expected to act when there would be a girl looking like that on the stage with her. It was the definition of an impossible task.

Still, she approached her friend and cleared her throat, trying to meet her eyes rather than… literally anywhere else. ”Hey, Mari,” she managed, her eyes darting everywhere that wasn’t lower than Mari’s neck. God, it was difficult.