Chapter Text
“I’ve always been more of a ‘no rust build-up’ man myself,” he joked, a genuine grin painting his features.
The casting director had never had much doubt when he had been called in to work on a small-scale production of Heathers in Strongsville (fittingly enough a small town in Ohio). Three names from the student body were practically perfect for their roles.
Jamie Derrick definitely had a dark sense of humor, and tended to stay at the sidelines while cracking some of his tamer jokes every now and then. He rolled his eyes at ‘popular kid culture’ and didn’t exactly mind being excluded from it. Not only that, he also looked the part, tall and lanky with short, dark hair. His initial response to the roll call was along the lines of “Sure, sounds interesting,” but as he actually looked into the show he grew more and more invested. During rehearsals he’d act the part even outside of his lines, having a bit too much fun staying in character.
“Wow, okay, don’t be a dick, that stuff’d kill her,” Ellie shot back, looking at him with calculated shock. She’d rehearsed these lines many a time.
Ellie Carpenter, a dorky seventeen year old girl, was another perfect match. She had been one of the leading forces behind getting the school to greenlight this production in the first place. She had gravitated towards the musical because she saw herself in Veronica: a girl who had spent most her life at the sidelines, but who had made a turn toward the social side as of late. It started with the musical, then the movie (which she honestly preferred,) and eventually she was pulling all the strings she could reach to bring it to life.
Jamie’s grin didn’t falter. He looked over at her and poured the drain cleaner from its container into the glass, drawling out “Thus, ending her hangover!” He heard the fizz as it settled, and he guessed that they had chosen a carbonated drink as the prop liquid. His Slushy cups were filled with Mountain Dew: Baja Blast, after all, so it wasn’t too far out of the question.
The show went on, liquid cleaner poured from the glass to a ceramic mug, placed on the counter, then grabbed by Ellie as they kissed.
“Prairie Oyster! Chop Chop!” Ellie suppressed a smile as she heard the voice of Hayley Campbell. While not quite a mythic bitch, the girl definitely held a candle to the flame of Heather Chandler. She did not rule with an iron fist, yet she was not exactly to be trifled with. Most importantly to Ellie, she was her girlfriend.
“Good morning, Heather.” She reminded herself to be awkward, as the role demanded. For a girl like her, it was surprisingly hard to channel whenever she was around Hayley. “Aw, Veronica… And Jesse James, quelle surprise…” Hayley hardly needed to feign disdain for the man who stood clad in black. She had always took him for a creep, something about him just made her uneasy. A similar thing was true of Jamie, playing up his annoyance at the ‘perfect’ girl in front of him. “Well, let’s get to it,” she continued, “Beg!”
Ellie cursed that sing-songy voice. The first time they had run the scene, she had fallen her knees immediately. Hayley had cackled, she had turned bright red, and Jamie had scowled—she excused it, she knew he just didn’t like her. “Okay, um…” she actually had to take a moment to collect her thoughts after reminiscing, “I think that last night we both said a lot of things that we–”
“I actually would prefer you did this on your knees. In front of your boy toy here.” Hayley’s grin spread from ear to ear, casting a fiendish look over at Jamie. He bit back a remark as Ellie spared him a glance as well, then turning back to Hayley. “Oh, I’m… I’m really sorry–”
“Do I look like I’m kidding? Down!” She was on her knees. She knew she was supposed to wait for Jamie to look away, but she never could. Disobeying once was struggle enough. The man gave a scowl matching that which he gave the first time she had fallen on her knees.
“Nice,” Hayley noted with feigned indifference, leaning down into Ellie’s face. Ellie looked away, because she knew if she looked into her eyes she’d have the urge to kiss her. “But you’re still dead to me.” She then stepped back, facing the audience as she brought the mug to her lips. She downed it quickly, and immediately she was struck by a feeling that something was very, very wrong. It was sour, sour that burned, sour beyond belief, sour to the degree that it made Toxic Waste seem like watermelon gummies. She didn’t know what was going on as she clutched at her throat, scrambling over toward Ellie. Her lines forgotten, she choked out something like ‘help me,’ before falling to the ground.
Despite his opinions of the girl, Jamie had to silently compliment her acting skills. The same was true of Ellie–the shock on her face seemed all too real, staring down at the limp body beneath her. “Holy shit!” His exclamation turned into a chuckle, leaning down to get a closer look at Hayley. That girl really was good!
Ellie looked into the mug, sticking a finger into the blue residue at the bottom and feeling it burn. Her shock turned into full-blown panic, speaking much too quickly. “Oh my God,” she exclaimed as she pulled Jamie aside to kneel before Ellie, staring into her dead eyes. “Oh my God, don’t just stand there, call 911!”
“It’s a little late for that,” he answered, still going along with his lines. He heard Ellie sputter out something, a two-syllable name starting with H, as she brought her face inches from Hayley’s own. Eventually she pulled away, staring beyond the crowd, her voice going weak. “Oh my God… I just killed my girlfriend.”
“And your worst enemy,” Jamie was quick to spit back, before Ellie turned, slowly, to face him. His grin faded as he saw the hurt in her eyes.
She wasn’t acting.
He was laughing. Nervous laughter, because the alternative was facing the fact he had just killed someone. He shut his mind, compartmentalized the panic and guilt, and steeled himself once more. Just a while more.
“Okay. Okay, she’s dead… Okay… what now?” Unhealthy or not, he channeled the cool confidence and carelessness of his character. Ellie, meanwhile, was far too distraught to take it. “How can you just–” He interrupted her, stopping her with hands on her shoulders. “We can’t panic, El–Veronica. We can’t panic.” He spared a glance at the audience, who at the moment were very confused at the divergence. He hoped she would get the message.
Ellie took a moment to try and collect herself. With a sob, she nodded, then looked to the body of her girlfriend on the ground. “What… what do we do with her? We can’t just leave her here.”
Jamie racked his brain, thinking about an excuse that’d work for the audience. “Uh, bathroom. Put her in the bathtub. You get the drain cleaner and put it next to her, lid open. I’ll go wash the mug, make sure there’s no residue. We meet back here when we’re done. Got it?”
A nod. That was all he could hope for. They went over and, together, carried Hayley’s body offstage. Improvising, one of the stage hands turned out the light.