CELEBRATING THE HOLIDAY EVERYONE LOVES TO HATE*
Fandom: taking back Valentine's Day since 2008!
So last year bottle-of-shine had a Kissing Battle. The last edition is here (EDITED TO ADD: this is the old battle, not the current one!). It was a lot of fun and might be known around FF-fandom circles as the best Meme ever**.
Pretty much everyone I know is stressed about something, too, so this round of the ( Read more... )
So last year bottle-of-shine had a Kissing Battle. The last edition is here (EDITED TO ADD: this is the old battle, not the current one!). It was a lot of fun and might be known around FF-fandom circles as the best Meme ever**.
Pretty much everyone I know is stressed about something, too, so this round of the ( Read more... )
No, this time, Maria was on strike. She demanded a higher salary, a bigger dressing room, and more designer dresses. The Impresario simply was not meeting her extravagant demands, so she was feigning illness. Headache. The plague. Whatever, Celes thought to herself.
The show must go on, and the show needed a star. Since Celes did such a convincing job the last time, it seemed like a simple, albeit temporary, solution.
Celes protested the first time. This time, she didn’t mind the assignment. There was no Empire. There were no more battles to be fought. What else was an ex-general with no country going to do?
Celes read through the script one more time, warming up her vocal cords. She felt as if she was already being watched, but she convinced herself it was pre-performance jitters.
She checked herself one more time in the mirror. Every detail on her person needed to be perfect, needed to be true to Maria. Every curl, every stitch of makeup needed to be just right, in order to convince the audience she was Maria.
Celes was so focused on her own reflection, that it startled her when an arm wrapped around her waist. She saw Setzer, his chin against hers, pressing against her back.
“I finally catch you,” Setzer whispered in her ear, his breath warm on her face. His other arm reached around with a big bouquet of silk roses.
“I hope you don’t mind,” Setzer said with a grin, “I know a friend who makes these, custom-made. Not the real thing, but they’ll stay beautiful forever, like you.” Setzer kissed Celes’ cheek.
Celes’s first reaction was to push him off and yell at him for messing with her make-up, but her next thought was, does he think I’m Celes, or Maria? What better way to test her disguise?
Celes put on her best Maria-voice, that high, haughty, ethereal voice, “You flatter me, sir.”
Setzer spun her around, sending blond curls flying around her head. “I’m not here to flatter,” he said, wrapping his arms around her waist. “I’m here to take you away. This has been put off for far too long. After the show, I’m going to make you my wife!”
Setzer leaned in for the kiss. He’s quite good, Celes thought to herself. If he had done this the first time, things might be different today. Maybe she and Locke would have been just good friends...
What am I thinking? Celes snapped back to reality. She broke the kiss, whispering in Setzer’s ear, “You’re very sweet, and I would have loved to be your wife, but like these roses, sir,” Celes returned to her normal voice, “I’m not quite the real thing.”
Setzer’s face dropped in horror and embarrassment, “Oh my...oh...I’m sorry! I...”
“Honestly, the whole time we’ve traveled together, I thought you would be able to tell the difference by now!” Celes scolded him, reapplying her lip-color.
“Well, you’re quite,” Setzer tried to regain his composure, his pale face a deep pink, “convincing.”
“Thanks,” Celes said with a forgiving smile, “coming from you, that’s a big compliment. I’m on. Lucky for you, Locke’s in the audience, not in this room.” Celes gives Setzer a wink. “Thanks for the roses. You really are very sweet.”
Celes, fully confident, strode through the curtain to the stage, to meet her audience.
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