Chapter Text
"No. Absolutely not. I’ve told you before, I don’t want to work with Kaoru Seta.”
"Miss Shirasagi, I advise you to consider this opportunity more deeply." The agent gave her exasperated talent a searching look. "It may be time for a change of pace. Breaking back into live theater would be an excellent way to make you more accessible to your fans, in the way that your old band did. Television just doesn't have the same personal quality. As for the show itself, Moulin Rouge is familiar, approachable. This could only lead to good things for you."
Chisato sighed. "I know." Of course her agent was right. She couldn’t deny it.
The opportunity to work with Kaoru arose reasonably often, considering the fact that they were two acting talents living in the same town with a long history together. They’d been through this process so many times. They'd be cordial for the bulk of rehearsals, and then Chisato would just get...angry. For reasons she couldn't understand. And that made her feel confused - distracted. Being around Kaoru made her feel guilty about something she couldn’t put a name to, and that wasn’t conducive to a focused mindset. No, she wouldn't fall into this trap. Not again.
-
Chisato fell into the trap.
Again.
She’d let her agent talk her into a meeting with the director, mostly as a concession after the woman’s continued insistence. Deep down, she agreed that this was too important an opportunity to refuse outright, but she definitely wasn’t happy about it.
"Fuehehe...hey, Chisato! Long time no see!"
Chisato balked at the unexpectedly familiar voice. "Maya?"
She barely recognized her old friend and ex-bandmate at first - her hair was cut much shorter now, and she was dressed in a sharp pants suit - but Chisato couldn't mistake Maya's unique laugh.
To Chisato's mild embarrassment, the other woman pulled her into a hug. "It's been way too long! How are you doing?"
"Well enough. How about you? How's Eve?"
Maya beamed, fiddling with the wedding band on her finger. "She's great. She misses you. We both do. We really should get the band back together more often."
Chisato hummed in polite agreement. She loved her old bandmates, she really did - but seeing them always left her feeling a lingering sense of emptiness that took longer to fade than she could afford.
She was no stranger to loneliness. She'd spent her entire life coping with it, framing it as an advantage. In the end, the only person you could really count on was yourself. That was doubly true in show business. Still, she couldn't help feeling like she had found something truly unique with that band, and she'd let it slip through her fingers.
She didn't have time to get stuck in the past. Nostalgia and regret wouldn't solve any of her problems, and God knew she didn't need to create any new ones.
"So, um, Maya...are you working on the production? I'm here to speak with the director."
Maya grinned slyly. "Speaking."
"W...what?" She couldn't help the outburst. "You? You're directing?"
"Hey, c'mon! Is it that shocking? I'd like to think I'm pretty good at it, too!" Maya huffed playfully. "Especially since I finally landed a gig this huge."
"Sorry, I just..." Chisato laughed in disbelief. "Wow. Congratulations!"
"Fuehe, thanks." A slight blush had appeared on Maya's cheeks as she averted her eyes sheepishly. There was the Maya that Chisato recognized: humble as always. "But listen, Chisato, kidding aside, I really need to talk to you about the show."
"Alright. I'm listening."
"You're the perfect actress for the role. Honestly, when I worked with the scriptwriter, I had you in mind the whole time. I can't imagine a better Satine." Maya paused, thinking carefully about her next words. "As for Christian, it has to be Kaoru.”
Chisato raised an eyebrow. “A woman?”
“Well, yeah, that’s kinda my niche. I take romantic musicals and adapt them for two female leads.”
“Ah.” Chisato thought for a moment. If Maya was insistent on casting a woman as Christian, she honestly couldn’t argue that Kaoru didn’t fit the bill.
Maya continued. “I know that you two have some...personal history, but I’ve seen your chemistry onstage together. It’s really something special.”
“...All right.” Chisato sighed, defeated. “I’ll try.”
-
“Chisato! Darling!”
Kaoru blew into the cafe looking the same as she always did: chic, fashionable and perfectly in her element. Her dedication to her immaculate image was impressive, to say the least. As usual, several adorers gawked furtively, whispering excitedly amongst themselves.
Chisato took a sip of her coffee. “Hello, Kaoru. Thanks for coming out.”
“To what do I owe the honor? It’s been quite a while, hasn’t it?” Kaoru sat down across from her, resting her elbow on the table and her chin in her palm.
“I want to talk to you about the show. Moulin Rouge.”
Kaoru’s face lit up. “You’re going to do the show?”
“I’m considering it. I spoke with Maya. It seems important to her, and I can’t deny that her casting choices were apt for the script.” Almost too apt. Chisato briefly wondered if she should be offended that Maya saw her as a caged bird, cynical of true love and imprisoned by the entertainment industry. She decided she was probably overthinking it.
“Satine really does you perfectly. I’d love to see you all done up in diamonds, glittering on stage. You’d steal everyone’s breath away. Mine, certainly.”
Chisato made a noncommittal noise. “Kaoru, listen. I need to talk to you. Really talk to you. Okay?” She continued without waiting for a response. “If I’m going to do this show with you, I need you to promise that you’ll stop this...you know, fanservice thing you do. At least with me. It makes me feel like we’re not really communicating with each other.” It made her feel a lot of other things, too, but she couldn’t articulate them out loud. Honestly, it hurt. It made her feel like Kaoru didn’t trust her, like she was just another swooning fan in the crowd - and for some reason, Chisato couldn’t stand that.
Kaoru’s expression was complicated. “I’m not sure I understand what you mean.”
“It’s me, Kaoru. You don’t have to dazzle me. I’m just Chi-chan.”
“Just Chi-chan, huh.” Kaoru looked a little embarrassed, but it was obvious that she was genuinely considering Chisato’s words. “I don’t mean any harm by it, but if it makes you uncomfortable, I’ll tone it down.”
Chisato was a bit taken aback. She’d expressed general annoyance at Kaoru’s theatrical flattery before, sure, but this was the first time she’d brought it up in a serious conversation. She hadn’t expected such a considerate response. Would it have always been this easy?
-
“Alright, we’re going to start with a readthrough of the script in 15. If anyone wants a last-minute refreshment, hurry up and grab one before they’re gone!”
The rehearsal room was a little less spacious than Chisato was used to, but it didn’t lack any of the necessities. Half the space was set aside for blocking and choreography practice, empty of furniture except for a piano against the wall. The other half was crammed full of an eclectic mix of sofas and chairs of all types, arranged into a circle. A folding table was set up against the non-mirror wall and covered in assorted breakfast items, a coffee machine, and a water cooler. As a director, Maya clearly prioritized a comfortable atmosphere over professional sterility. It was unfamiliar to Chisato, but not unwelcome.
She briefly considered getting up for a scone, but decided it wouldn’t be worth losing her prime couch spot. Just as she was thinking this, Kaoru sat down next to her, a plate of scones in hand.
“Here, I got enough for both of us. You like these, right?” Kaoru balanced the plate across Chisato’s thigh and her own.
“Yeah. Thank you.” Chisato offered a little smile. Despite all the drawbacks of working with people she knew, there were a few plusses, too.
Kaoru selected a blueberry scone to munch on while leafing through her script. Chisato noticed that it was already full of handwritten notes. Kaoru was capable of beautiful penmanship, but her personal notes were nearly unreadably sloppy. It was a little charming.
“Were you up late last night?” Chisato leaned over to look at the other woman’s script, their shoulders touching. “Exhaustion doesn’t exactly lead to good acting, you know.”
“Ah, well...” Kaoru looked sheepish. “I can’t help but want to read it myself before the first readthrough. I want to be familiar enough with it to make an impression.”
“I know what you mean.” Honestly, Chisato had done the same thing, reading and marking up her own script late into the night. “This isn’t an audition, though. They asked for us by name.”
“That means they expect the best.” Kaoru flashed a confident winning smile, but Chisato could tell by her body language that she was slightly nervous. It was nearly imperceptible, and she doubted anyone besides herself would notice.
“You ladies ready?” Maya strode over, a clipboard containing her own script in hand. “This is just gonna be a quick readthrough to assess the cast and chemistry. No songs yet, just the spoken parts. Nothing unfamiliar to either of you, I’m sure. I’ll be more concerned with watching the auditionees. I’m counting on you two to set the bar. No pressure!” Maya’s exaggeratedly serious tone indicated that she was joking, but there was definitely truth to her words. All eyes would be on them.
The director flitted off as quickly as she had appeared to herd everyone else into the couch circle. Moments later, the room was quiet, everyone anxiously scanning their scripts and scarfing down the last of their breakfasts.
Maya was seated in a particularly deep armchair, legs criss-crossed beneath her. “Thank you all for your time and hard work. Let’s get this thing started!” She nodded at Kaoru, who placed the now-empty plate beside her. The director had been right. All eyes were on her. She sat forward, tucked a strand of dark hair behind her ear, and dove into Christian’s first line.