Spicy Sapphic Christmas

25. Bunny

TWENTY-FIVE

bunny

Bunny’s head thumped, and her stomach roiled. But as usual, she was the first one at rehearsal. She was a professional after all.

She had laid out three sets of stapled paper on the rectangular table. They didn’t have many practices left and the show was getting closer far faster than she would have liked. But had she panicked that not a single one of the songs was one hundred percent polished yet? No, of course she hadn’t. She had spent the night forcing herself not to relive the argument with Bea yet again, and instead to list the things they needed to get perfected by the end of each remaining practice.

She took the fourth seat at the table. They still weren’t here. It was less than five minutes until rehearsal time started and not one of them could be bothered to get here early enough to warm up and be ready to go by the start of it.

Using two fingers on each hand, she rubbed small circles into her temples, trying again to stop herself from reliving that fight with Bea.

It wasn’t as though they hadn’t fought before. But something about this time felt sharp and so final. Bunny hadn’t been able to say what she wanted to say, and every time she’d opened her mouth, she had made the situation a hundred times worse than it already was.

The front door opened with the obnoxious tinkle of that damn bell on the top of it. The door hit the wall from being pushed open too forcefully, the sound echoing off the brick walls of the hallway and ringing in her ears.

The added mix of voices with the squeak of tennis shoes against the linoleum floor set Bunny’s teeth on edge.

Before they could reach the rehearsal room, she stood up from the chair and rummaged through her bag she had dumped in the corner for something to dull the throbbing in her skull. She didn’t like taking them, but she just couldn’t shake this damn headache. It felt like forever before she finally found them and swallowed them down with several big gulps from her water bottle.

They filtered into the studio room, Piper and Jo smiling and looking at each other in ways that made panic flutter in Bunny’s chest. She had known from the start that this was a bad idea. Behind Piper and Jo, Bea walked in with her face set in a perfect mask of distance.

Looked like Bunny would have to be the professional, again. It shouldn’t bother her. It was the way it had always been. But this time, it did strike frustration into her heart. This was why she normally said no to working with others. Even Piper was slipping on her work ethic.

“Finally,” Bunny said as a way of greeting when all three finally took their seats at the table. But Bunny didn’t want to sit down. They didn’t have time to ease into things, and she wouldn’t lose her own work ethic to their blasé attitudes. “There are a lot of things we need to sharpen up. Jo, your movements are too soft, you need to hit the steps on the beat, not just after. Piper, your vocals aren’t where they should be. And Bea, we’re cutting Baby It’s Cold Outside .”

“What?” Jo and Piper said simultaneously.

Bunny didn’t look over at Bea, but she felt Bea’s eyes boring into her, anger wafting off of her.

“We haven’t factored in enough time to perfect it, so we’ll be cutting that song. It’ll work better without it anyway. The show would be far too tight if we kept it in.”

“And of course it had to be that song, didn’t it? Do any of us get a say?” Piper fired back.

“You’d get a say if any of you actually took this seriously enough to show up on time.” Bunny crossed her arms and gave Piper a stern look.

“We were on time.” Piper said, her tone holding a slight edge, but Bunny also knew when she was trying to calm tension before it rose.

“It makes sense to cut that song.”

“How do you figure that? Because it’s gay and heaven forbid we acknowledge something other than heteronormative society?” Piper was in a mood today. Bunny was going to have to watch out for that one as rehearsal got underway.

“It makes sense because that’s the song that needs the most work done on it. We’re too short on time. As it is, we’re going to need extra rehearsals to make sure every single song is perfect.”

“It’s fine.” Bea stood up, the blankness taking over the fury that had flashed moments ago. That mask caused an ache in Bunny’s chest. An ache she didn’t understand and didn’t want to.

Almost stunned into silence by the agreement, Bunny held her ground instead of staggering back like she wanted to. She slipped a glance to Piper and then eyed Bea over. “Then let’s get started.”

Tension settled over the room, and everything they rehearsed piled more bricks of frustration on top of Bunny’s anger.

They were all being entirely unprofessional. But she didn’t want another round of Bunny is wrong. How could she possibly know what the world was like just because she’d been in the industry the longest?

“Bea,” Bunny spoke softly as she moved to where Bea sat at the piano.

“Yes?” Bea looked up.

Even though she seemed to look directly into Bunny’s eyes her stare didn’t connect. There was no warmth, and no emotion.

“Do you really understand?” For some inane reason, Bunny had to check. She had to be sure that Bea was okay with everything going on.

“Oh, I understand.” Bea turned back to the piano and gently tapped on the keys, not pressing them down hard enough to make the music, but just enough for the ghost of it to vibrate.

“You do?” Bunny wasn’t stupid. She could still feel the tension like a wall separating the two of them.

“Of course, I do.” Bea didn’t look at Bunny, but kept her eyes on the sheet music in front of her. But the page hadn’t been turned, and Bunny was certain Bea had moved long past where the current page had ended.

Pride warmed Bunny’s chest. Bea’s talent was refreshing. It was real and beyond a simple desire to be famous for fame's sake.

Bunny couldn’t let her throw it all away for something that could so easily be kept out of the limelight. Despite what the industry often went on about, not all publicity was good publicity.

“Bea?”

“You’re scared. You’re afraid of being judged, but more than that, you’re afraid the world might actually have moved on, and you’ve wasted all this time being angry and bitter at the cruelty of a world everyone else has left behind.”

The words exploded from Bunny’s mouth. So much for approaching this professionally. “Do you seriously think bigotry and homophobia have just disappeared? That they just went poof and vanished overnight?”

“No, I don’t.” Bea turned on the piano stool and faced Bunny. “That’s what you’re afraid of.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Then why are you so scared to even sing a single song about love just because it’s between two women?”

Their voices had grown louder, and Jo and Piper now stared at them. Jo stopped working on her dance number for song number four, and Piper now had her headphones around her neck. The strap on the guitar hung taunt on her neck, taking more of the instrument’s weight than her hands.

“I’m not the bad guy here.” Bunny moved her head quickly, scanning over all of them but not settling on any of their eyes. “You’re all acting like children. Young, naive, and with this fucked up notion that living your truth is going to save you from the vultures.”

“You don’t get to talk to me that way.” Bea’s mouth puckered up, her eyes squinting daggers toward Bunny. It was hardly an attractive expression, and yet somehow, Bunny wondered what it would be like to kiss every new shape of Bea’s face.

She shook the thoughts from her head and scoffed at herself. She couldn’t honestly be screwing this up again, and yet it was like she was watching everything in slow motion in front of her and she couldn’t stop it. Bunny was on a quick spiral down to the bottom. She just hoped she reached it soon enough so she could drag herself back up.

“Not everything needs to be about people’s sexuality. You say it shouldn’t matter. But here you are, every single one of you, trying to make a charity about single mothers of all things, into a show all about your sexuality. If you want to be successful, if you actually want to get anywhere in this business, you have to do the work and make the sacrifices. This job is about hard work!” Bunny bit the inside of her cheek, making her stop talking before she said anything else that would land her in the hot seat. And she managed to stop herself in time and to tamp down that ego that was rising up and rearing its ugly head.

“We do do the work.” Of all people, Bunny hadn’t expected Jo to be the one to speak up, especially to argue with her. Her eyebrows were pulled down and the sadness in those wide eyes made Bunny understand just a little about the web Piper was so willing to crawl into. But those eyes and that innocence didn’t work on Bunny. In fact, it proved her very point.

“Bunny!” Piper’s shock was evident, but the reprimand only fueled the fire she hadn’t been able to put out.

“Bunny what?” Bunny snapped right back.

“You don’t have to be such a bitch.” Bea’s words were laced with venom. “You’re getting what you want. But that’s not enough is it? Even when it’s your way, you just can’t help making sure we know how much better you are than us. Nothing else matters but what you want out of it, and if anyone dares to do something you aren’t brave enough to do yourself, you’ll do whatever it takes to step on their neck.”

“Is that how you see it?” Bunny’s breathing was becoming too hard and too fast. But she wouldn’t leave here being accused of being the bad guy. Because I’m not better at this than you. Those words, the ones that might have actually helped them both, died on her tongue before they could fully form.

“That’s how it is.” Bea crossed her arms over her chest, hip cocked out to the side.

Bunny shook her head as she took them all in. Bea with her anger and defiance on display. Jo with her head down, no longer able to meet Bunny’s eyes. Even Piper glared at her. Bunny had dug her own grave—much like she’d accused Bea of doing— without even seeing it. It was three against one, and she wasn’t going to be able to yell her way out of this one.

“Piper,” Bunny tried. Anything to get herself to stop acting like such a fool.

Piper shook her head, arms crossed, and her shoulders set. “You’re acting like a bitch. Bea’s right.” The parroting of Bea’s words did nothing to cool the embers of shame burning inside of Bunny.

Bunny couldn’t find words. How could she? She’d been exactly what they’d called her out on, and she still couldn’t force her body to do anything about it. Her feet wouldn’t move, her tongue wouldn’t make words, and her voice wouldn’t carry to their ears. Bunny was frozen in fear and shame.

Bea snorted and threw her hands up in the air. “Then I guess I understand fully now.” She stood up and stalked toward the door, without even tossing a look over her shoulder.

“Where are you going?” Bunny called out, worry edging into her voice and her body. Was Bea really leaving? For good this time? Bunny wouldn’t be able to handle that, would she?

“To another practice room. Any other practice room. I’m not your student, and seeing as we don’t need to practice anything together, I don’t need to stay and be lectured, especially by you. And who knows, maybe I’ll even find a little scrap of professionalism somewhere.” Bea walked out and left the other three staring after her.

Bunny ignored how dry her throat had gotten, and the hitch and wobble in her voice. She stood in silence and shock, staring at the door Bea had just walked out of. But she could barely breathe. How long did she stand there? Because when she turned back around to figure out what to do next, Jo was singing beneath her breath as she moved in step to the rhythm again and again. She didn’t look up or stop.

And Piper shot her a glare while she stretched. If sewing her mouth shut for a few more practices and a one-time only show was the price to pay, she could handle that. She just needed to get herself together again.

At the piano bench, where Bea had sat, Bunny put her fingers onto the keys. As always happened the moment she heard that first note, Bunny felt the tension fall away from her shoulders. At least, she expected it to, but it didn’t work this time. This was why she wasn’t going to risk everything she had worked for. The life she had built up, all because the youngest new group in town decided being out was the only way to live.

Bunny kept playing and playing. Her fingers ached, but the rest of her body finally released a small amount of the tension after hours sitting there. Her mind clearer, she walked over to her bag to get a drink. Only then did she realize her headache had finally gone.

And so had Jo.

Jo had left without saying goodbye. Had Bea left as well? Had Bea even stayed? She probably hadn’t. She probably stormed off in a full tantrum, which frankly, she deserved to. Bunny had been a bitch to her particularly. Bea had borne the brunt of Bunny’s wrath.

Bunny was surprised Piper was still there. Surprised but relieved to see that not all of Piper’s dedication and work ethic had disappeared because of some big eyes and similar energy. But also surprised because Bunny’s temper tantrum had exploded on everyone that morning, and she deserved to be left in the dust that day, left and made to think about her actions and words. That shame clutched her heart again, and she couldn’t shake it—not that she thought she deserved to.

Bunny went back to her music. She was still playing when Piper tapped her on her shoulder.

“Hey,” Piper said, no smile accompanying the greeting.

“What’s up?”

“What’s up? Seriously?” Piper cringed, her face squishing up and tightening.

“Everything we do has to be done with the business and its future in mind. You know that, Piper.”

“Yeah, I do,” Piper agreed. “So why did you treat me, and Jo and Bea, as though we’re wayward children caught sneaking out in the middle of the night?”

“Because it’s how you’ve been acting.” Bunny was too tired to be tactful. She was too defensive to even try to push into her shame and allow Piper to see it like she normally would. She was too hurt to even think about letting someone else see her wounds.

“Be careful, Bunny. Or you just might get your wish.” Piper met Bunny’s eyes, a sad look in her ever-youthful and happy face.

“And what wish is that?”

“The one where you’re the only professional in the room.” Piper stepped past Bunny after a pointed look and snagged her bag off the floor, putting it over her shoulder to carry it out. “You might want to think about what you’re doing all the extra homework for, because it certainly isn’t that you think we haven’t perfected the performance yet. Get over yourself, and quit while you’re ahead. Or no one is going to be here when you’re done, including me.”

“What are you talking about?” Panic clawed against her throat, and the words came out tight. Bunny couldn’t lose Piper. She was the only person Bunny had left in this world.

“I’m talking about you only making stupid messes when you’re in love.” Piper’s lips thinned and she shook her head.

Bunny’s lips parted, but no words formed again. She sat frozen on the piano bench, trying to figure out what exactly to say. But she couldn’t come up with anything. Piper was right. And so were Bea and Jo. When she went to finally tell Piper that, she was gone.

And Bunny was alone.

Well and truly alone.