For two teenage girls in the closet, they were now walking into the place of the once upon of time leading lady killer of Beverly Hills High. A woman who understood women better than anyone. While Shauna Flynn’s reputation precedes her, not many people knew who the Shark was. The one and true Romeo had become a myth in the halls of BHHS and unless you actively sought her out, she was just another legend of many that lingered in the air, like the strongest, most intoxicating perfume. Girls could emulate her but girls could never be her.
There was only one woman who carried the nickname ‘the Shark’ and she was running a clothing store for the young and beautiful.
The Mermaid’s Closet. A place for girls to see the flowers they were and let their petals spread; their garden bloom. As such, not many students were able to match a face to the myth. Only those who truly cared about the school lore knew and unfortunately for these two, blooming flowers, they were not in the know. They were oblivious, just how Shauna used to like her prey. In their innocent eyes, they carried weight Shauna knew all too well, having hunted girls just like them. Having hunted girls unsure about their sexuality and bringing them to their knees. Angel. Having hunted girls who were in love with their best friends and succeeding. Indy. She was a professional in luring the delicate flowers to the dark side with cookies and milk. If there was any woman that could read them like an open book, it was the woman watching them from behind the counter.
When they entered the store, the colors, patterns, and fabrics appearing from every which way, Angel could feel how out of her element she was. Just because she knew what would look good on Indy didn’t mean she knew what would look good on herself. She didn’t know clothes like that. She just thought, ‘hey, a suit would make my friend comfortable and hot as fuck’. There’s no way Naomi wouldn’t take notice. Beyond that? Angel liked wearing big shirts and no pants as she gamed in her closet. When she walked outside, her mom determined her outfit of the day. Angel didn’t know how to express herself with clothing. Her identity, at least to the public eye, was that of God. If it wasn’t conservative, she didn’t know where to begin.
Mrs. Royce suggested black and Indy concurred, so that’s where she’d start off but first, she needed to see if they still had the light blue suit. It was the last one available, the site said hours ago, so there was a chance it had been bought from the time they looked on the site to now. The sooner they found out what Indy would wear, hoping it was affordable and still looked Hive worthy, the sooner Angel could grab something herself and hope for the best that her mother didn’t find her new clothes. Silently, Angel led her friend to the cashier counter, thankful that it was late and they caught the store at a quiet hour.
“Excuse me, do you still have this?” Angel asked, turning her phone to the older woman, showcasing the picture. There was no point in her trying to find the clearance section and get overwhelmed in a place she had never been. Instead she went to the person she assumed knew how to assist. Little did Angel know she was talking to the leading lady herself.
“If not, do you have something similar? I’m trying to help my friend not commit social suicide while staying true to herself.” There Angel went, talking brutally honest and going straight to point. A flaw and a strength. You either admired it or you didn’t. It seemed the small, petite girl that had the personality of a black cat didn’t care. She was focused on one thing and one thing only. Her friend.
When Shauna Flynn opened the Mermaid’s Closet there were some dissenting voices from her past that assumed the worst, that she was doing it solely to keep up her tactics from high school. Those voices did die down as the Closet earned a fair amount of good press with its prices, selection, and professionalism of the staff - all of which were covered in an actual article written about the boutique in the local paper; of course, just because Shauna was a professional business owner now didn’t mean she forgot how to ride a bicycle…so to speak.
Shauna could tell a customer’s wants and needs as soon as they came through the door. A young girl walking ahead of a disinterested or occupied mother? Someone fresh from junior high looking to reinvent themselves for their freshman year. A person with hunched shoulders and hands thrust deep into the pockets and barely able to say what they were looking for? Shauna called them ‘hoodie girls’, the kind of customer who wasn’t used to wearing anything beyond casual comfort and likely had social anxieties they were working through. Even the occasional dysphoric male who walked through and who wasn't there to buy something for his girlfriend was always led to an employee on staff who had been through what they were going through. The Closet certainly didn’t discriminate, only ever encouraged.
So when Shauna saw Indy and Angel walk into the store, she already had her own personal history for the two in her head. She could’ve been wrong - she sometimes was - but Shauna was an expert in high school girls and the complicated and messy emotions that swirled in their heads during any given day. The darker haired girl was doing the talking and she used the word friend. Shauna’s experienced emerald eyes looked at the friend who was in need of help and back to the one holding the phone in front of her. A suit. Clearly they, like most of her customers for the first half of October, were high schoolers looking for Homecoming outfits. They weren’t going together, at least not as dates, and if she were a gambling woman she would’ve bet it all on the fact that neither of them had dates regardless. While not impossible, Shauna had never known a straight woman to go for the suit option first but that just raised another question, namely if the dark haired girl was aware that her friend was in the closet while in the Closet? It wasn’t Shauna’s place to out anyone, but encouraging women to be comfortable with themselves was part of the Mermaid experience.
All of Shauna’s analytics about the two girls happened in the brief period of time between the phone being shown to her and the dark-haired girl finishing her little introduction. Her verdict? The blonde wanted to be more than friends with the brunette but the brunette had no idea because she herself had no idea about, well, herself. A classic scenario and one she had experienced in her youth. Though in those days playing matchmaker with wannabe lovers was…something she couldn’t and wouldn’t do with customers.
“Oh, I’ve a grá for a good suit.” Shauna’s Irish tones were as smooth as they were when it was used for more nefarious purposes.
“Think we’ve sold out tha’ one, but let’s ‘ave a check, aye?” Shauna tilted her head towards a section of the store where suits of a similar make as the phone image were on display, and led the way towards its direction.
“Your, ahh…friend got an opinion on what she likes or is her mout’ proper banjaxed?” Indy had to blink for a second to make sure she understood what she was being asked. She lived all around the world and heard many an accent, but the year and a half in Australia had nothing on the thick Irish brogue she was hearing now. What she thought she heard was disappointing at first. Angel had done such an amazing job finding the suit in the vast array of options the Closet had to offer, and while there was only one according to the shop, it wouldn’t take much to take it out of her hands. An inventory error, a production mishap, someone else having the same eagle eye that her friend had. The day did nothing to dampen her excitement but according to the older woman, or so she thought, the chosen outfit wasn’t here.
But it was the Closet! It was a place of legends. If that suit wasn’t in, surely there would be something. Maybe something more in line with the color that Angel was going to wear. Indy had her eye on the lookout for something in black, it was a color that suited her friend very well. She had to agree with the opinion of the cheer coach on that one. While it was the vision of white from earlier in the day that stole her gaze in Naomi’s car, for some reason, Indy just wanted to see the so-called church girl shrouded in black lace, a mid cut, with maybe a slit in it so the world could get a look at those legs that were seared into her mind. It seemed only fair to share the joy. It was something that she was certain would never survive a trip to the Vazquez home, and it wouldn’t be something Indy could conceivably fit in, but it would be immaculate on Angel.
But surely there was a backup. Right now, they had to take care of her own Homecoming outfit first. Indy didn’t want to be… banjaxed? Was that even a word? How do you banjax something? Is that some weird Irish torture device? Did they even have banjos in Ireland? How do you put jacks on a banjo? So many questions about those two syllables… or was it three syllables? Another one added.
“No, I don’t… think I’m banjaxed. Pretty sure I had my shot for that,” Indy said, still not sure what she was defending against.
“But if that exact suit isn’t in, I think I’d like to try and find something in a similar style. Maybe even a deeper color.” She then motioned to her shopping partner.
“And then we need to find something for my friend. Doesn’t need to be preventing social suicide, but I want it to look like she can murder on the dance floor and get away scott clean. I think she can pull off something daring.”Shauna offered only a polite smirk towards the banjaxed comment. Part of the experience at the Mermaid was dealing with Shauna and her accent and slang; she claimed it made her a better salesperson but a popular theory among employees was that she did it to impress women. Those that knew her in high school would likely agree with that hypothesis, especially those who were swayed by the brogue.
“Daring and deep, eye catchin’ and stylish, you’ve come to the right place. Don’t let me influence you too much, this is all about you and your friend, but with your hair and her whole…vibe, you can’t go wrong wi’ a classic twist on Ebony and Ivory.” Shauna gestured towards the suits she led them towards, specifically a
white jacket and matching slacks.
“Take a look around. Find a color. If white’s not your thing, don’t worry. We’ve got a real rainbow of choice.” Shauna’s emphasis on the word rainbow was not done by accident.
“What about you, Lydia Deetz?” Shauna sniped towards Angel.
“You the femme in this couplin’ or what?” Now she was laying it on a bit thick, but her ever present smirk remained.
“Kiddin’, o’course. But you don’t strike me as the suit type.” Angel had kept quiet, looking around the store and listening to the shopkeeper and her friend interact. When the conversation turned back to her, she observed the Irish woman and noted the Lydia Deetz mention. With her second life as a gamer girl, she didn’t live completely in a hole so she knew that was a character from Beetlejuice. She didn’t know how Lydia could relate to her. They looked nothing alike. That was irrelevant though. For one reason or another, the owner of the Closet saw her as Lydia and that was A-OK with her.
“I’m a clean slate,” she spoke honestly.
“I have no preference.” There were no lies behind her words. All Angel ever wore was conservative clothes. It wasn’t until she joined the Hive that she discreetly adjusted her wardrobe, taking noticeable risks that could get her grounded for months if not done correctly. Small adjustments to her outfit like rolling up her skirt, opening her blouse by undoing a couple of buttons, or not fixing her nylon knee highs and letting them drop to add to the appeal. These actions and light changes may seem minuscule to most people but for Angel, each imperfection was intentional and carried weight. Subliminally, she hoped she was conveying the message that religion was not her ministry, not truly. It wasn’t too drastic for her mother to catch wind of but to those that did pay attention, she’d like to think her message was clear. Without words, she hinted at the fact that she wasn’t the Virgin Mary. That she wasn’t a saint. That she certainly wasn’t here to save anyone.
Glancing at Indy, seeing how willing her friend was, Angel felt it was only fair to permit Shauna full reigns in dressing her up, trusting the process.
“We could go with something vintage and timeless, that seems to never go wrong for celebrities. That might be too safe for homecoming though…” The small teen felt the dresses in front of her; how soft they were. She wondered if it was time for her to truly stand out from the crowd and dismantle everyone’s views on her.
How bad did she want to be seen?
Not for the facade she wore for her mother but for herself. If Angel truly wanted to, she could be anyone and anything. If Angel truly wanted to, she could break a few rules and try something new. If Angel truly wanted to, she could have fun and take a risk that no one could ignore. If Angel truly wanted to, she could be beautiful. She could be free.
“If you don’t mind taking the lead, I am open to change or a better term would be I am open to transform. If you were me and you wanted to make a statement, what would you wear?” There were no Ifs. Angel wanted to.
Wear me on your lips.If Indy was truly confident, that’s what she would say in the moment. Those thoughts she had, those lovesick wonderings that started as a whisper when she came to BHHS, were only getting stronger the more of the true Evangely Vazquez that Indy got to see. While the previous 10 months had given her a chance to see if there was something more to her attraction than the forbidden fruit angle, today seemed to be kicking it into overdrive. From Naomi’s car to the hallway to the Closet, everything she did with Angel today was just enforcing that her instinct was right. This girl could be the one that she could get to the next level with, raise some stat points, take a shot, engage in an adventure, all those fun things. Angel was the fabled whale shark drifting off the Animal Crossing island that Indy couldn’t seem to land. If she said such a blatantly inappropriate thing, maybe that would break the glass between them that indicated that final barrier and allow them to shrug the visage of the Hive and just be.
Nah, that would never work.Instead, Indy said nothing, simply letting the professional clothier take the reins of the situation.
“If I were you?” Shauna repeated the question with a look of consideration as she gave Angel another once over. Fashion, style, was up to the one who wore the clothes and in her mind as the closest thing to a professional in the establishment, her mind was racing with potential. The Irishwoman assumed that the two might want to match in terms of theme if not in brand or outfit.
“Vintage is cliche, you don’t want to be cliche, you want to become cliche. You, I feel, could work in a variety of outfits. You have one of those faces that says “I don’t care” but only after spending a half hour getting the face just right. Which is a good thing. Means ye’ve got a sense of style just beggin’ tae come out. But if your friend is gonna go, and forgive the terms, yeah, butch, then perhaps femme is in your future? But don’t worry, you two look like you can swap.” Shauna was laying it on thick, but if she hadn’t been then someone might’ve assumed she was sick.
“Here, what about this? It’ll guarantee every eye will be on you when you walk in the door.” For her next sentence, as she handed Angel a
somewhat…revealing and quite leggy dress for consideration, she looked towards Indy.
“Even if ya only want one particular pair’o eyes on ya.” Angel wasn’t deaf. She knew exactly what Shauna was getting at. Her accent was thick; for someone that wasn’t multilingual and observant, this may have been a challenge to decipher. That wasn’t the case for Angel. As for the undertones, she knew what the older woman was implying. She didn’t live under a rock although her mom likely thought she manipulated her daughter to believe that God was the reason behind everything. God was fact. God was truth. God was absolute. She was fortunate to have more than bible study, youth ministry and catholic sleep away summer camp to shift her perspective, nurture her identity and strengthen her values.
Truthfully, Angel had a feeling for a long time about her preference. It wasn’t until she befriended Stella that she started to understand that it wasn’t a preference, it was who she was. She played up the clueless Catholic girl that never steps out of line pretty well. Reality of her situation was she had no choice but to play pretend. She knew if her mother caught wind that her only child was a lesbian she would send her away, strip her of any means to contact her friends and find some outdated zealous person to forcibly repress her sexuality and convince her to swear a life to heterosexuality, monogamy, and breeding.
At all cost — her mother would change her daughter. That’s how ruthless that woman could be. Lord knows if her daughter was gay there would be nothing but shame brought to the household. Maritza Vázquez wasn’t a kind woman and that is why Angel decided to keep her mission to herself, planning and working in silence, so when the time came she could move into her own place and make her own rules, cutting ties with her mother completely. She would include her father but he was an alcoholic and an echo chamber to his wife. He was barely a person, a ghost of a man, especially after her mother forced him to separate from his side of the family.
The last thing Angel needed was her friends worrying about her. It was 2024 and people still existed that were homophobic, racist, and close minded. Her mother was the perfect example of that. A woman who used her generational trauma and lack of ambition to fight it as an excuse to be a shitty human being, becoming the one thing she despised the most. The parents that beat her to believe whatever they said was gossip truth. It was hard to have sympathy for her mother though. At this point, regardless of her past, her actions and behavior were inexcusable. Mari’s parents, Angel’s grandparents, were dead. That means her abusive grandfather was gone and the light that was her grandmother, who tried to make small shifts, only for it to turn on her, was buried alongside with him. Maritza chose to continue the barbaric cycle, convincing herself that God was law and now it was Angel’s turn to embrace the path her mother set out for her or break it.
With the risqué dress in her grasp, Angel decided right then and there that this was a matter of the heart and not mind. That some rules were worth breaking. Holding the dress close, she met Indy’s gaze which was concentrated on her. It usually was. In return, Angel’s expression never shifted. There was no smile, no facial movements, and no obvious emotion. In her brown eyes though, a story was waiting to come out. Her grandmother might be gone, someone that opened doors for her when she was a little girl, but that didn’t mean she was alone. She still had people that lit the way. People that made life worth chasing, on her terms.
“Sure. I’ll try it on,” Angel answered, giving Shauna one last glance over before concluding their interaction, for now,
“Thank you. I trust your opinion and if the reactions I get are nothing but positive, I’ll need to come here more often.” Glancing at her wrist watch, Angel began leading the way to the dressing rooms, naturally assuming Indy would follow behind her, in time.
Meanwhile, Indy was still letting her anxiety rule in her head. She hadn’t heard wrong before, the proprietor did assume that her and Angel were a couple already instead of only in her dreams. That she was the butch in the pair. That was funny. Kai would have found it funny. The side-shorn Aussie was certain they had found a stumbling girl wandering through the world that they could shepherd into their rainbow flock, but not once did Indy ever consider herself more masculine than them. Was it even right to consider that relationship in this context? Kai was adamant to make sure Indy knew what her options were when it came to this new arena she was entering, especially considering her time in Turkey was one where she only knew oppression of such beliefs.
It makes sense… Indy had to concede that by the metrics of supposed masc behavior, she was more butch than Angel. Indy was an athlete, with an athlete’s frame. Until she was elevated into the upper tier of the school’s hierarchy, she dressed like an athlete. Tank tops and shorts were comfortable, easy to wear, and allowed her to move on the court and on her board with freedom. She had that competitive streak in her that allowed her to be ruthless when searching for a spike or aggressive in attacking a fledgling wave. By contrast, Angel was submissive and raised to be that way on outward appearances. The Latina never dressed in anything other than a perfect visage of a religious schoolgirl, even with her rebellious efforts to shake that image. Sure they weren’t as obvious as stripping down a skirt in a car like today, but those extra undone buttons didn’t go unnoticed when Indy could help it. For some reason, Indy could never truly picture the Vazquez girl in anger, swearing a blue streak at something or someone. She couldn’t see Angel in overalls and a tight bun, chopping down a tree or whatever the old ideals of what it took to be masculine were. It would be hot though. That probably did make Indy the butch by default.
But if it was that obvious to Shauna that those thoughts were real, could she act on them in such a grand manner like this? She knew her spot in the Hive didn’t come without controversy. Angel told her how when the four of them were meeting to discuss expanding to a group of five, Lottie had been pushing for her best friend Kathleen to be accepted into the clique. However, Angel and Levi (with some prodding) helped tilt Naomi’s scales in her favor. Again, that was the overwhelming factor in not taking the plunge to see just how much of a chance there was of turning those dreams into reality. That the reality she had where this… stunning girl could beckon her close with a glance and she could come oh so close to that pool would have to live on the rule of not drinking from it. Those eyes really were so full of soul… and looking at her watch.
Shit! Not the time Indy! You’re on a deadline here!Besides, the dress that Angel had in her arm looked exactly like the one she wanted to see. Entranced by another trip to the pool, Indy followed towards the changing room, a more spacious place for swapping outfits than the backseat of Naomi’s car.
“Oi, one thing, lass.” If Shauna hadn’t been an adult and a business owner, she would’ve put a hand on Indy’s shoulder before letting her go to a changing room; personal space and consent to simple touching was much less fluid a concept as it was when she was younger. Normally, Shauna wouldn’t say anything more, it was like learning to swim: you couldn’t just push someone into the deep end and expect them to get a handle on it. But if nothing was said she had to wonder if either of them would ever dive into Sappho's pools anyway.
“Window shoppin’s great an’ all but sometimes you gotta make a purchase. No one ever got what they wanted just by lookin’ at it. Just some…food for thought. G’wan no’, try’s it on. If ya need any help, just gies a hollar, yeah?” Shauna left the girls to their changing room try ons but turned her head towards the front door as she heard the sound of conversation and new arrivals.
Three girls that, at a look, didn’t seem like they’d travel in the same circles walked in, fronted by a tall girl with dark hair and a clear athletic build. Medium length hair kept away from her eyes, athleisure clothes branded with a familiar logo, a sleeveless top no doubt meant to showcase her arms, classic athlete but Shauna clicked the roof of her mouth; this girl wasn’t browsing around a closet looking to come out. Neither was the girl who was keeping the conversation going. Shorter, vibrant hair, bright color eye makeup, the kind of girl who would wear paint covered overalls because all of her clothes had paint stains on them. They were friends, clearly, but Shauna couldn’t see it, but then when she went to high school there was a very loud, very…unique girl who was friends with popular students so the more things changed the more they stayed the same.
It was the third girl of the group that gave Shauna the vibes, but only because anyone who came into a clothing store like this looking like they fell out of a grungy club where the speakers are too loud and everything sounds grimy was already someone who knew to keep their fingernails trimmed. The third girl was laughing at the first two in a way that someone who was trying very hard not to show any emotion other than ‘laid back’ did. Shauna looked from the new arrivals to the front counter as she made her way towards the new girl she hired. What better way to see what she had? What better way than to shove her into the deep end of the pool?
“Newbie,” Shauna whispered to Juliet as the boss returned to being behind the counter.
“Let’s see what you’ve got.” She nodded her head towards the trio of Tristan, Abby, and Ellie, who were absently flicking through rackware, the way customers did when they wanted an employee’s help but didn’t want to outright come to the front and ask for it.
Juliet was still getting her bearings in the Closet. She didn’t like working. She thought she had made that clear to Shauna, but it seemed her words had fallen on deaf ears.
Her impression had been that she would just be spending time looking at pretty girls and getting them to let her finger them in the changing room. Instead of that, she was practically lighting her brain cells on fire in an inventory spreadsheet at a computer she was confident was older than she was.
This was the exact kind of work she hated!
It was Shauna’s own fault there was an undeniable scowl on her lips when Shauna called her attention. Almost immediately, it softened as she realized Shauna finally had an
actual assignment for her. She eyed the three girls who were approaching. Instantly, she dismissed the yapper. It was nothing personal, but Juliet knew in point three seconds that she didn’t have the patience.
She looked toward the athletic woman only briefly as a thought crossed her mind.
Been there, done that.Finally, she looked at the Kurt Cobain impersonator. Juliet knew
of her, but she didn’t know her very well. Of course she’d heard about the girl who played bass covers of punk rock songs from before any of them were born in the parking lot, but she’d never had the chance to
really get to know her. What was she going to do? Ask her to play
Hawaiian Rollercoaster Ride? This was her element though.
She gave Shauna a grateful smile, and then gracefully glided across the show floor to stand in front of the trio who had let themselves in. Putting on her best customer service smile and voice, she greeted them.
“Do you need any assistance today?”“Wait, you work here? Since when?” Tristan recognized Juliet almost immediately - Tristan’s memory wasn’t always the best but she never forgot the face of people she once made out with. It didn’t work out between her and Juliet, their personalities were hardly compatible, but Tristan didn’t think there was any love lost between them. But still, the sight of Juliet working an after school job made it impossible for Tristan to hide her snickering laughter, a gesture that had ‘the yapper’ of the trio blinking as she looked between Tristan and Juliet.
“Are you two friends? Hi, I’m Abby, it’s not my real name but everyone calls me Abby.” Abby extended her hand for a handshake but then retracted it almost immediately since it was probably weird to shake hands with someone at a clothing store.
“My friend Tristan needs an outfit for the Homecoming dance and I need one too because we’re going together.” There was a pause that almost counted as a pregnant pause before Abby immediately corrected course.
“We’re not going together like a couple, we’re going together as friends! Do you have something for friends to wear to a dance? She’s very tall and I don’t really know anything about dresses. I like them, I think. I don’t know.” “Relax, Abs, you’re gonna give the girl a headache.” Ellie spoke up, placing a calming hand on Abby’s shoulder which seemed to work like a pause button.
“Yeah, these two need outfits. Well, mostly her.” Ellie tapped Abby on the shoulder for emphasis.
“If it helps, her favorite color is green.”“Mint chocolate chip ice cream.”“Yeah, green.”“Look, she wants to look like a princess,” Ellie gestured to Abby,
“And she,” A gesture to Tristan,
“Just needs something like a one shoulder sequin, show off the gams and the yams, you know?” “Those mean the same thing.” “What the fuck are gams?” “The same thing as yams.”“I hate yams, they’re disgusting.”“But you’ve got them. Gams, yams. Is hams one too? That would be weird. Rude also.” “If you don’t interrupt them they will keep going.” Ellie’s words to Juliet might as well have been a warning.
Exactly what Juliet feared was going to happen was actively happening. It didn’t help that Tristan was giggling at her, something that Juliet tried to silence with a dark glare. When that failed, she resigned to turn the customer service look back on. She let them talk, listened to their words and filed them away. Before she could help them with their outfits though, she had to set things straight.
“My mother made me get a job after I got unjustly fired from Disneyland.” She said, with her eyes on Tristan. Juliet didn’t harbor any ill will toward her, but a failed one month long relationship meant Tristan knew more about Juliet than others tended to. The words spoken toward Tristan abandoned the ‘customer service’ tone for one that gave more… ‘I’m annoyed you’re exposing me.’ energy.
“I’ll find something for you.”“It’s too bad you didn’t meet me last week,” Juliet said, as she turned her attention onto Abby. It was dangerous to engage this one, but Juliet had a feeling if she
didn’t try to help Abby, she’d never get her way.
“I used to work at Disneyland, I helped do the princess makeovers…” She sighed wistfully, remembering better days with a smile,
“we can find you a pretty dress. Green… green might be hard. But I’ll try.” Juliet did not like the color green. It looked like the throw up emoji.
She finally turned her attention onto Ellie, the last girl.
“What’s your size? I already have ideas for you.”“My size is irrelevant, shouldn’t you be asking them that question?” Ellie didn’t know why the employee was asking her, she wasn’t here to shop. She was the ride. The wheels. The moral support. Dances, especially school dances, were not exactly her scene and that wasn’t about to change in her senior year.
“It doesn’t have to be green, but Tiana did have a green dress and it was very pretty. And then they stopped doing hand drawn animation, I don’t know why, it’s so much nicer.” Abby interjected, green was never mandatory for her outfits, but color was. She never wanted to wear black even to a funeral.
“What did you do at Disneyland?” “More like who.” “Oh, sorry. Who did you do at Disneyland?” “I oversaw princess makeovers and was a cashier at one of the photo shops. Basically, I did make up for girls who wanted to cosplay.” Juliet explained, trying to be patient with Abby even though she hated repeating herself. At least she seemed to have taste as she mentioned Tiana. She didn’t have a chance to comment on it before Tristan started running her mouth again, talking about the ‘who’ rather than the ‘what.’
“Stop being combative, Tristan. That’s basically slander.” The difference in tone of voice when she spoke to Tristan and when she spoke to the others was clear as day.
There were more important things to talk about than to go down a list of the princesses she’d bagged at Disneyland.
“Have you seen Wish? It’s not quite hand drawn, but the style is nice. Like a call back to when Disney didn’t suck.” Her attention was turned onto Abby, who had suddenly become the most interesting person in the room.
“It isn’t a very good movie, but it’s pretty and the musical numbers are fun to sing along with. Do you have a favorite Disney song? I do.” Juliet walked into the jungle of clothing racks as she spoke, gesturing for Abby — and the others, she supposed — to follow along.
Before Juliet got too far into rambling about Disney, she met eyes with Ellie and gave her a small, sly smile. There was no verbal response to Ellie’s question, but Juliet certainly hadn’t forgotten it yet. One step at a time. She talked as she walked,
“it’s How Far I’ll Go, by the way. Or Let It Go, but… that’s so basic. I love Frozen, but I have to stay vigilant and be unique!” She made a gesture with her hands, something of a small fist pump. That was for Abby; she was animated enough that Juliet felt she’d appreciate the extra motion.
“Stitch is my favorite movie though.” She did not call it ‘Lilo & Stitch.’
Ellie saw the smile aimed at her and only raised an eyebrow in response. This was the strangest customer service interaction she’d been witness to and she once stood behind a drunk guy trying to remember what gas pump he was at. He didn’t even drive. Tristan, meanwhile, rolled her eyes at Juliet’s words; it wasn’t combative when it was true and the only reason she didn’t step in and stop Juliet from discussing cartoon shit with Abby was because Tristan was almost positive Abby would take the discussion literally and not realize if Juliet was trying to make something happen. Tristan wasn’t Abby’s mother, but she knew Juliet well enough to know that if the Disney girl ever got her lips on Abby, it would only end in Abby’s tears and that would require Tristan to gather a drop of blood for every tear shed.
“Oh, uhm…I like…Part of Your World.” Abby didn’t clarify, but the way she looked away, blinked rapidly, and started rubbing a finger in the palm of her other hand suggested there was something to the choice beyond just enjoying Jodi Benson’s voice.
“What’s unique about liking two songs that made the Billboard charts, man? That’s like saying you’re unique for liking Taylor Swift. At least say Un Poco Loco. No one ever says that.” Ellie had not seen a single Disney movie, but she had let Abby control the aux at times and she had at least
heard most Disney movies by this point. Only a small number of them ever remained in Ellie’s thoughts.
“Look, how long is this gonna take? Cuz I’ll just wait outside.”Juliet shook her head.
“You stay. It won’t take that long. I’m getting to know my customer. Also, just so you know, it’s kind of edgy to dislike popular things because they’re popular. Can you point out something musically wrong with either song? I’m not saying they’re perfect, but they’re pretty good tracks. Especially Let It Go. Be serious.” She addressed and dismissed Ellie with a wave of the hand and quick words, before turning her attention to the belle of the ball.
“An excellent choice.” As she spoke, Juliet idly looked through clothing racks. Green?
Green? Who wore a green dress? And to homecoming? Diabolical work.
“We should watch Disney movies sometime, Abby. My name is Juliet. And yes, Tris. I’ll behave.” She spun on her heel and thrust a mint green
dress to Abby. With a smile, she explained her choice.
“This seems like it fits you. It’s a bit… loud for a homecoming dance, but I don’t think that will bother you. Besides, I can’t imagine you in a dress that doesn’t flourish when you spin. I mean, what’s the point?”She knew Abby would talk whether eye contact was held or not, and twirled around to look at the racks again. Digging, this time for only moments before she turned back around and faced Tristan.
“Here. Unless your ass got fatter, this is your size.” She held out a purple dress that
matched the mint one.
“Now go try them on.”“Yeah, I bet you still wish you had my ass to enjoy, Jules.” Tristan teased while snatching the dress and making for the fitting room, but not before making sure Juliet saw her give her very well proportioned volleyball star ass a slap. Just so Juliet knew what she lost out on. Truthfully, Tristan didn’t care what kind of dress it was, if it wasn’t for Abby she wasn’t even going to go and, not that she was bragging, but Tristan was confident she could show up in a garbage bag and still be in the upper tiers of hottest in the room. Athletes just had that advantage.
Abby, meanwhile, held the dress out in front of her with both hands then put it close to her like she’d seen done countless times. It was bright, it had floral print, and it reminded her of mint chocolate chip ice cream. In a word, it was:
“Perfect!” And, like Tristan, Abby headed to try it on, though she had much more of a skip in her step in comparison to Tristan’s sassy sashay.
Ellie, then, was left with her hands thrust in her pockets.
“God, she thinks she can get away with everything just because she has pretty brown eyes and a nice butt. Is she still annoying as a passenger princess?” Juliet shook her head to dismiss the rhetorical question as she finally devoted her full attention to Ellie.
“At least we’re finally alone. You never told me your size.”“She demands shotgun, if that’s what you mean. If you’re focused on her eyes, I have it on authority that she's single.” Ellie had never once thought on Tristan’s eyes or butt, but clearly Juliet had been and if it would stop Tristan complaining about her lack of a relationship then why not try and set the two of them up? Clearly there was history there but that wasn’t for Ellie to know about.
“You don’t need to know my size, man, I’m not here to shop. Didn’t you hear me, or have your ears been poisoned by Elsa’s schlocky song about girl power?”“I know she’s single. I dumped her.” That was mostly true. While it was a fairly mutual dumping, Juliet had been louder
and more dramatic, which she took as a victory. She had not discussed this idea with Tristan, and had no plans to. When Ellie started talking again, Juliet prepared to deliver her pick up line - and then Ellie decided she wanted to fight.
“Schlocky? What, are you mad that it’s essentially the most popular song of the 2010s and it didn’t even need a funky bass line? Please.” She rolled her eyes and folded her arms over her chest. If there
had been something she wanted to follow up with about Ellie’s size, it had been pushed to the back of her mind.
“Of course it’s schlocky. It’s a Disney movie. Just because it’s a bit cheesy doesn’t make her voice less powerful, or the lyrics less inspirational. If you want to dislike it, that’s fine. But Let It Go is basically the foundation for a billion dollar franchise and saved the company. You’re gonna have to do better than ‘popular bad.’” She scoffed.
“Are you seriously telling me the first time you heard the song it didn’t do anything for you? Idina belted the last chorus so hard that most pop stars should be ashamed of themselves. They can’t even keep up with an animated white girl.” She huffed.
“The first time I heard the song the only thing it did to me was make me not want to watch the movie.” Ellie still hadn’t seen it, of course, and she didn’t feel like she was missing out on anything. Normally she wouldn’t even expend the effort on a discussion like this - Disney teens were just a couple years from being Disney
adults and Ellie couldn’t imagine a more depressing thing other than being a K-Pop fan over the age of twenty one. But Juliet being so ready to fight for the song was…well, it made Ellie want to fight back. Passion was passion and passion was rare around here.
“I didn’t say it was bad because it’s popular, I like Girl On Fire and that is twice the song Let It Go is and Alicia Keys isn’t even a Broadway broad like your Queen Idina is. What’s inspirational about the lyrics? It’s the same rah rah don’t be afraid to be who you are message that’s been around since, like, the queercore movement of the 90s! The only difference is this time it has Disney money pushing it so it’s shined to a squeaky clean finish for easy, empty calorie consumption.” Ellie was spending too much effort, but she could see her words were making Juliet pout and that seemed like enough motivation to continue; it was a uniquely cute pout.
“And if you remember, my issue wasn’t you liking the song, it was you saying you were unique for calling it your favorite. What next, your favorite movie is Avengers?”“Do I look like I watch superhero movies?” Juliet couldn’t help herself and snapped. She was practically being insulted by someone who clearly didn’t know what she was talking about. She clicked her tongue,
“maybe you should watch the movie before you judge the song, huh? I don’t know if you realize this, but Disney money pushing out the ‘don’t be afraid of who you are’ message is kind of a big deal for people our age. I don’t care if it made a corporation a bunch of money, it’s important! Alicia Keys isn’t even comparable!”“First of all, I said that Let It Go would be my favorite if I didn’t want to be unique.” She tapped her head, an unspoken gesture meant to ask ‘are you stupid?’ in a way that wouldn’t get her fired. She reeled back and fired off in her native tongue, hoping to safely express how she was feeling.
“너는 귀여운데 너의 취향은 나를 토하게 만든다. 멍청한 상사.”When she was younger and hating the fact that she had to learn a language other than english, Ellie’s mom just said that one day she’d be glad to know her ‘mother tongue’. Ellie’s mom would never know that the day finally came, if only so she could give a light laugh at Juliet’s sudden dive into Korean. It wasn’t a mocking laugh; Ellie’s laugh sounded like it came from the throat, a husky chortle that matched her normal ‘husky smoker but a teen’ voice of her day to day.
“넌 내 취향을 모르잖아, 자기야”At first, Juliet looked almost insulted. It was almost as if not disclosing that she spoke Korean was the most insulting thing Ellie had ever done. Then, it was like a switch turned in her head and Juliet’s demeanor shifted a bit. Even her tone of voice changed, dropping the silky smooth customer service voice she’d used for most of their encounter as she stepped forward and tilted her head to the side,
“오, 진짜?” A voice that was quiet enough it was meant only for Ellie’s ear, lilted from Juliet’s lips. Her voice was sing-song; angelic or devilish, depending on who you asked.
The smirk she wore said it louder than her words. Each step she took forward resulted in Ellie taking one backwards. When Ellie’s back touched the wall, Juliet held up and wagged a finger. She didn’t talk though, because what needed to be said was best said silently. She stepped up to Ellie and stood on her tip-toes, very suddenly pressing her lips against hers. By the time she let the kiss break, her arms had found their way around Ellie’s neck - though they dropped as Juliet pulled away from her.
She ran her tongue along her upper lip, commenting.
“Blue raspberry? I thought you’d like cherry.”It was over before Ellie was backed against the wall. Juliet had taken control and Ellie was just along for the ride; the bassist wasn’t even aware of the kiss at first, but once the taste of candy flowed onto her tongue, Ellie was kissing back as if they weren’t in the middle of a store where eyes could fall upon them with all their scrutiny. When Juliet broke the kiss, Ellie was still puckering towards the air, like she wanted to keep the kiss going, and there was a gentle flush of embarrassment when she realized she was still wanting more. She didn’t have a sweet tooth but Juliet’s lips were the tastiest thing this side of a blue slushie.
“I’m a size eight.”“Oh good. Then you’ll be able to try on what I want you to be wearing when you pick me up for the dance. And I want shotgun.”“Shotgun’s yours, 애기야.”“Oi, this is a place o’ business, nae pleasure, yeah? Take it outside or outta sight.” Shauna’s dulcet brogue snapped Ellie out of the candy reverie she found herself in. Ellie promptly looked away, cheeks red, while Shauna looked at her watch.
‘Five minutes? Not bad, Newbie.’ Her internal thoughts were giving Juliet a thumbs up even if all she could do physically was nod to the new girl, Stepping out from behind the counter, Shauna headed for the fitting rooms where the first two girls had been.
“You ladies all good in there? Just checkin’ on ya.” “Yeah, no, it’s fine! We’re fine! Just trying to see the fits!”Indy Adams was lying. She wasn’t really fine. She looked fine. That was a given. She was very good at looking the part, even more so now that she had the tools and tricks of the Hive in aiding that goal. But inside her head, there was chaos.
What the proprietor had said, about window shopping and everything, Indy knew what she was talking about. It was almost embarrassing to be read by the Irish woman with the ease of a kindergartner flipping through a pop-up book. She knew the desire that Indy held inside, but it was never about Indy. While there was growing evidence that a move made on Angel would result in positive reactions for both of them, it didn’t matter when it appeared there were so many gates ready to slam down in the way should Indy get caught off guard. Naomi. Levi. Mami Vasquez. They all would have things to say if word got out about Indy’s attraction to Angel, and they wouldn’t hurt the blonde nearly as much as they could hurt the brunette. Indy was already the vagabond, the traveler who would move on to her next destination and put BHHS behind her like she did so many other stops in the world. Angel, as far as Indy knew, didn’t have that luxury. She wasn’t even sure of any alternate family members in the area that would take Angel in should her mother act as expected should she find out her daughter kissed a girl. There was potential for Angel to have to leave Los Angeles entirely.
That was the conundrum Indy faced. Would the short-term pleasure be worth the potential long-term pain of being denied such joy ever again?
At least right now, the outfit was proving to be the least of her problems. After swapping the bomber jacket for the suit jacket that was indicated by Shauna, it looked like it would do the job, provided she got rid of the red tank top underneath. Red was not the color to be paired with such a stark white. This wasn’t Valentine’s Day. Yet Indy’s heart was still fluttering like it had a couple arrows in it.
“I don’t know if this would be better with a black top underneath, or the silver one, or if I just go full white. But I know red isn’t it,” she stated to Angel.
“I like black,” Angel quickly responded, mirror-gazing at her features, inside her dressing room, right next to Indy’s.
“You should pick black.” Turning to her side, to check how the back looked, she could see how beautiful the dress accentuated the best parts of her, like her lithe form, and how it showcased her legs.
“My mom… would not like this,” She said to herself, too low for Indy to hear. It wasn’t often she felt this pretty. Naturally, in the Hive, she had no choice but to be creative so that she didn’t gross her peers with her conservative wear. But to wear whatever she wanted? Without getting scrutinized for it? The thought was liberating.
Turning to face the mirror once more, Angel pulled her hair back and tried to imagine hairstyles with the fit. Once she returned home she would need to call Dahlia to see if she’d allow her to get ready at her place. Angel wanted to go to the party too but the only way she’d be allowed away for the weekend was if Dahlia’s mother was tagged in for distraction. There was a spinning vortex in her stomach at the thought of deliberately disobeying her mother. All her life she was told what to do, how to speak, who to interact with. Her father was a bystander to all the verbal abuse and there were times, she felt like doing exactly what her mother wanted was good for her. If it weren’t for her mother, she wondered if her father would try to slip in her bedroom at night. The way he looked at her sometimes, especially after he drank, made her exceedingly uncomfortable. Perhaps that’s why she decided to turn to video games originally. To add color to her prison cell.
“I’m coming out.” Stepping out of the dressing room, to show Indy the dress Shauna picked out, Angel anxiously rubbed her sides and asked,
“What do you think? Is it too much?” Her mother said that dressing like this would get her raped and killed, and part of her was worried she’d be asking for it but she’d be lying if she said she didn’t like it on her.
At the sound of her shopping partner announcing her unveiling to the store, Indy emerged from her own stall to get a look at just how that idea of darkness and lace would look on her friend and she was not disappointed. It was almost sad to think Angel was unable to show off her body like this due to her mother’s overbearing presence, because the world needed to know what it was missing out on. The lace was in all the right places, accentuating the tan skin and making sure the fabric was where it needed to be. The revealing cuts showing off that little bit of midsection and a lotta bit of leg, paler compared to the arms, and that wide neckline at the top, it was the way Angel was meant to be shown. She looked like a beautiful shadow, hidden by the “light” of the world but emerging now to taunt and tease and hint at what she could do if set free.
Indy didn’t say any of that out loud though. Maybe Shauna’s warning hadn’t taken hold yet.
Instead, she opened her mouth and then closed it. Holding back the torrent of praise she wanted to give. Holding back the confessions that were springing to her mind finally seeing Angel in something that expressed something akin to her true feelings, not those imposed upon her by the threat of some beardy man sending her to a pit of fire for daring to have a thought that wasn’t devoted to his praise. Shoot, Lucifer themselves might show up at the Pearly Gates to claim this dark Angel for their own collection before Peter told them to shove off.
This was a true test of Indy’s restraint.
Finally, after what seemed like an eternity in her mind, she spoke.
“Nah, I don’t think it’s too much. I think it meets you, like, you seem like you’re made to wear that. I mean… it looks really good on you.” Indy looked down at herself.
“I don’t know if there’s a black top here that will match with this. I don’t think I have one unless I really do just want to wear a bra to the dance… I almost thought that would be too much, but if there’s a party afterwards, at least that’s an easy change. I can just bring a different top to put over it.” She heaved a sigh.
“Sorry, I’m rambling. No, it is not too much.”Again, Indy was lying. This was becoming a bad habit. However, admitting that the sight of Angel in that dress was overloading her mind was not the thing to say. Not right now.
“Right… cool, yeah,” Angel replied, pushing some of her hair behind her ear, aware of how exposed she was. The fact that her friend said the outfit was made for her caused somersaults in the pit of her stomach.
“I’ll get it then,” She agreed, feeling awfully bashful. That was until their shared moment was disrupted. Inside her dressing room, her phone began to ring. A Spanish gospel
song signaled her mother was calling. It was a song her mom heavily suggested to be her ringtone and by suggestion, her mother ripped her phone from her hand and put it in for her. Evangely didn’t have a wrist watch but she knew it wasn’t eight yet. They weren’t in The Mermaid’s Closet
that long. Although this place certainly did feel timeless.
Apathetic and seemingly unbothered, Angel quietly left Indy’s side to return to her private room. Picking up the phone, she listened to the woman on the other line,
“It’s game day… I told you yesterday... ¿Alguna vez te he mentido?” Momentarily, there was silence coming from Angel’s dressing room. Putting the phone down on a small bench in the room, exasperated, as her mother continued to yap on, Angel began to change and put on her casual wear. Leave it to her mother to ruin a good time. Taking earbuds out of her backpack, she placed them in, transferring the audio from one device to the other.
“No puedo volver a casa, cada vez que se pelean.”Exiting the dressing room, black dress hanging in her arm, Angel texted Indy, who she assumed was in the other room. She continued to listen to her mother complain and in response, she tried her best to talk in a calm tone, hoping it helped the older woman off the ledge.
To: Perla
register.
The sooner she got home, the less likely her mom would strip her away from anymore highschool experiences, like the dance tomorrow. Somehow, someway, Angel needed to guarantee her freedom tomorrow. Missing the game was one thing but missing the first party? That was unacceptable behavior for a member of the Hive. Angel disappointing her mom continuously was one thing. She was used to it. Disappointing Naomi and Levi was a whole different thing. She didn’t need to add them to that list and commit social suicide. Nor did she want to let Indy and Lottie down by worrying one and being ‘so lame’ to the other. If things went her way, tomorrow, around this time, she would be at school watching her peers dance poorly. Then she’d head to the party likely in the backseat of Naomi’s car and her mom would trust that she went straight to Dahlia’s to sleepover.
To: Muñeca
sos.
tmr. get rdy at ur place?
SOS was all Angel needed to send to her childhood friend for her to understand what was needed.
To: Joyita
wanna play league?
Putting her worry aside, deciding to take this adventure as a win — she got a new dress and she felt closer to Indy — Angel focused on what was next on her list. Getting home, decompressing, and playing games all night. She hoped Jade was down. Angel needed to release her frustration. What better way than to have fun with friends while improving her competitive needs? That was honestly the best way.
To: Joyita
give me 30
Indy had finished putting her school outfit back on, denim shorts returned to the ensemble now that she was out of the withering glare of Naomi Davis, and was ready to claim at least the suit before wondering where she could find the final pieces to her Homecoming Dance style when she got the text from her shopping partner. She knew it wasn’t time for Cinderella to leave the castle but the wicked mother’s powers dwarf that of the fictitious step-mom. She sighed, not really wanting this trip to end yet but surely there would be others who could help her finish the task of making sure she didn’t shame the Hive at the event tomorrow. Maybe Shauna would be able to figure something out. It was her job after all. Either way, she did want to make sure Angel was going to be all right with her jailer. Going through all this and not being able to enjoy seeing the fruits of this trip under the strobe lights and whatever decorations were planned for this sort of thing? That would be a true sin.
To: Dark Angel
See you there.
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