#(also the editor was mad cuz they wanted the images)

[bulbabutt]

i think its weird that arcee is like. a core member of transformers groups now, cuz it makes her stick out like a sore thumb being the token girl when at the time she wasnt exactly supposed to be? she was part of the second generation of characters (even though I know the movie was being made first)

like it seems like modern stuff tries to do this with her

which just shows off how much that design doesnt fit and comes off like it was made to be "i am THE girl. you need no more girls we have made the one girl”

but when she was actually designed to match the movie crew, a bunch of more futuristic (the far off year of 2005) cybertronian vehicle transformers with her rounded shapes and pastel colours and she isnt even the only pink one because hot rod is also pink, albeit a much darker pink

(leaving ultra magnus out cuz he was designed to be a brick holding optimus doesnt count)

the point like yeah shes still the only girl but its less egregious when you look at what she was actually supposed to match. i dont think shes designed perfectly but i think its weird that because shes the most recognizable girl transformer she has to be pulled away from her crew and forced into a group she doesnt share the design philosophy of (let alone for her character its sad like... are those not her friends? she’s not allowed to hang out with her own friends anymore cuz she’s the only girl who’s marketable? sad)

it’s extra weird when you realize there’s this crew who were the original girl transformers shown on screen

they’re not perfect either but I like that they have the same busy more squared off shapes and more strong colours, and I just think if they got added in arcees place you could have a less skewed view gender binary for the robots

there’s also the part where it would be cool to have more than one girl in a group, but again arcee with her iconic leia space buns head fits in aesthetically better with the movie crew

[artificialqueens]

Elastic Heart Part 9/10 (Branjie) - Mia Ugly

A/N: Thanks as always to artificialmeggie for the feedback.  She’s the best, you guys. 

Brock is in Houston when the lip sync finally airs. 

He’s seen pieces of it before but that’s all. They played a clip of it during the reunion, and he only took in parts of it. He’s really not looking forward to seeing the whole build up.  

Or the way it fucking ends.

His manager wanted him to host a watch party for the episode, but a brief conversation with Brock obviously made him re-think it (Brock’s hovering on the fine edge of ‘not okay’ and it’s starting to become fairly apparent to even the peripheral people in his life.)  So he gets to take the night off. 

He thinks about streaming it in his hotel room, but then he’s also a little worried about being alone. So he finds a local club that’s screening it, dresses like his usual disheveled self, and sits up at the bar.  

The episode is ugly, a slow slide into a car accident, tires skidding on the ice. His attempts at rapping are about what you’d expect, and Vanessa doesn’t do much better (she’s nervous, though, that’s all that it is.  If he hadn’t been there, if all that shit hadn’t been going on between them, he’s sure she would have crushed it.)

Then there’s the runway, where they both turn it out but not enough to save themselves. Brock watches Vanjie’s face during the critiques, watches her close her eyes and nod (he didn’t expect it to hurt this much.)

Christ, they were holding hands when they came back on the main stage. Brock had forgotten that.  The image on TV re-awakens the memory in him, and the feeling of their hands sliding apart burns against his palm.

He grits his teeth during the lip sync, watches the moment he stops dancing, watches the devastated look that comes over Vanessa’s face (his pulse is kicking in both wrists, in his throat.) He watches their hug afterwards and can’t help but notice how much they’re both shaking.  He sees himself mouth something in Vanessa’s ear and thanks God the mics didn’t pick it up, or the editors chose not to play the audio. He doesn’t know what he would have done. 

It’s a bit like putting together the pieces after a night of heavy drinking.  Some of the things Ru says are familiar and some are like they happened to a different person.  Brock watches himself thank the judges, watches himself tilt as he sashays away (almost falling but not quite.)

And then he’s back in the werkroom, staring at the camera like it’s the scene of a crime.

Brock holds his breath. He wonders if he could hold it for the rest of the episode.  His lung capacity is pretty good, and it’s almost over.  Almost there.  

“I’m - in love with him,” Brooke Lynn says on television. “Oh my God.”

Oh my God.

Brock’s entire body flinches, and he knocks his drink to the floor.  The sound of breaking glass is buried beneath the cheers and applause of bar patrons, reacting to Brooke Lynn’s stunned confession.

“Shit, shit - I’m sorry -” 

Brock said he loved him, he fucking said it on television, he didn’t know -

“It’s fine, no worries.” The bartender is coming around with a rag, bending to pick up the broken glass.  “Happens all the -” He stops. Blinks. “Holy shit, are you Brooke Lynn Hytes?”

“I’m just going to - okay -” Brock leaves too much money on the bar to cover his tab, and gets out of there as if an angry mob is chasing him. Oh my God.  Oh my God.

Somewhere across the world, Jose is probably watching this episode.

Oh my fucking God. 

His phone is ringing but Brock doesn’t answer it.  Text notifications are going off like mad and Brock doesn’t look at them.  He keeps walking down the sidewalk and when that isn’t enough, he breaks into a run.  He doesn’t know where he’s going, just knows he needs to get as far away from everything as possible. The show, the bar, himself. 

How did he not remember that? How did he not know?

How could he have been so -

(The first van ride back to the hotel, Brooke ends up in a seat beside Vanjie.  It’s crowded and loud, everyone still full of energy from the photo-shoot, from their first day of filming, as if there isn’t a hammer swinging gently above all of their heads. Brooke is fully in silent concentration mode, staring out the window at the blurred streetlights of L.A., thinking about her paint for tomorrow. It’s got to make an impact but it’s also got to show them who she is, and –

“Ooops, sorry girl.” Vanjie elbows her as she tries to get her jacket off.

“It’s fine.” Brooke smiles, falls back into her thoughts.  It’s not easy when Vanjie is as loud as a brass band right next to her, shouting into the backseat at a queen named Honey about some show they did together in New York.

The van turns a corner and Vanjie slides against Brooke, their shoulders pressed together tightly.

“Sorry, baby. I’m all up in your space. Honey, why you say that? You know that’s a damn lie!”

Brooke thinks about wigs. Short and blonde, maybe, really push the superhero couture. Or maybe bombshell, waves and – but that’s not really Detox. But it’s got to be -

“You sent me a message, you remember? After Season 10?”

It takes Brooke a moment to realize that Vanjie is talking to her.

“Oh. Yeah, I did.” 

“I gotta thank you for that.  I was feelin’ all sad and shit, feelin’ embarrassed.  It meant somethin’ to hear from people.”

Brooke can remember watching that first episode, thinking Vanjie was hilarious and bizarre, feeling sick when she was the first one sent home. She remembers the voice more than anything, and it was surreal hearing it in the werkroom today. Still doesn’t feel like real life. 

“If I knew you looked as fine as this, I mighta messaged you back.” Vanjie gives Brooke a slanted grin, and Brooke feels herself - horrifyingly - starting to blush. What is she, fucking thirteen? It has clearly been way too long since since she got laid. 

“I’ll include some pics next time.”

“I am here. For. That.” Vanjie claps it out. “You can make up for it by sendin’ me some now.”

“You’ll have to wait until the show’s over and they give us our phones back.”

“I just gotta use my imagination. Y’all hold still.”  Vanjie stares at her intently for a moment, and then blinks. “Click. There, real nice. I’ma throw a filter on it, give you cat ears or somethin’.”

“Whatever you want,” Brooke laughs. “Just don’t post it anywhere.”

“Vanjie could you like move over one fucking inch?” The skinny queen on the other side of Vanjie – who is… not Yvie - Scarlet, yes! Brooke’s brain hasn’t completely shut down – shoves into Vanjie, who in turn gets pressed up against Brooke once again.

“Hey, bitch, it ain’t my fault I got hips! Unlike some of y’all.” Vanjie glances at Brooke. “Sorry baby. Not tryin’ to get all up on you.”

She straightens up, but – and it might be Brooke’s imagination – she doesn’t seem to pull away as much as she did before.  Her hip is still warm against Brooke’s, her bare arm against Brooke’s shoulder. 

Brooke feels something internal stutter at the contact, like stones shifting somewhere underneath her ribs.)

He doesn’t look at his phone for two days.

The first call he returns is his sister’s (“Why didn’t you tell me things were that serious? Okay, I know what an NDA is but I’m your sister and you had your heart broken - no, mom’s fine about it, we’re just worried about you - well, you have to talk to someone, Brock -”)

The next person he talks to is Nina.

“Oh good, you’re still alive,” she says as she answers. “How does it feel to have broken the internet?”

“I - haven’t really looked.”

“Haven’t looked? At the internet? Just, in general?”

“I couldn’t yet. I’m going to, I just -”

“People are kinda freaking out about that episode.  You’re going to have offers of marriage from like, governors and stuff.  Tell them I’m single, by the way.”

“Have you talked to her?”

“No.  And she’s not saying anything. Her PR team must be circling the wagons, coming up with a statement.  Making sure this doesn’t look bad for her.”

That stops Brock’s heart for a moment. “Do you think it will?”

“Well, I mean, people love her. But they love you too. I’m sure her team just doesn’t want this to become about, you know, that bitch who broke Brooke Lynn’s heart.”

“Oh my God.” Is this what a heart attack feels like? Brock doesn’t know what else to say, can’t even fathom putting a sentence together.  Fuck, fuck, fuck - everything is terrible and complicated and this episode just made it all so much worse.

“Brock,” Nina says gently. “I have to say - I didn’t know. That you were so serious about her. It was all shiny and fun, I thought, I didn’t know -”

“It’s okay,” Brock stops him quickly.

“But I’m sorry about it. Sorry you didn’t feel like you could tell me.”

“I -” And what can Brock possibly say to that? “I’m sorry about that too. About a lot of things. I was kind of out of control near the end there. You should have made it to the Top 4.”

“It’s okay, I’m just going to sit by the phone with my hair in curlers, waiting for AllStars to call. Oh God, what if they’re calling RIGHT NOW?”

Brock laughs, even though his eyes are hot with tears. “I’m sure they will.”

“So what are you going to do? You have to say something. Everyone’s -”

“No.  It’s got to be up to her, she needs to decide how she wants it to go.  We were supposed to figure this out but -” He starts coughing then, which is embarrassing but unsurprising.  It lasts too long, and after he’s finished, Nina responds with a pointed silence.

“Sorry, sorry.  Smoking too much.”

“I don’t want to seem critical or patronizing or anything but - it’s um, getting a little self-destructive.  You know that right? This whole - thing.”

(“I’ll be around longer this time, bitch, believe it,” Vanessa is saying in the seat next to Brooke, too close and too warm. “Gonna show ‘em I’m not just a joke or nothin’. You best reserve this seat cuz I ain’t goin’ nowhere.”

“Good,” Brooke says automatically. Then she stiffens slightly because that might have been - not the right thing to say.  The word just came out of her mouth, she didn’t think about it and now she’s afraid to turn her head, afraid of what she’ll see if she looks at the queen beside her.

When she finally does, Vanessa is studying her.  There’s an odd little furrow between her eyebrows.

“Yeah?” Her voice is quiet, barely audible in the chaos of the van.

And Brooke does something totally stupid, reckless and embarrassing but – fuck, there’s no controlling it.

“Yeah,” she says, then watches Vanjie smile all slow and pretty, like someone who’s just heard an awful secret. 

“Huh.” Vanjie chews on her lower lip, and Brooke tries not to look anywhere near those teeth or that mouth. “Anyway, it – is – you know, whatever. Um.”

Vanjie’s the one who breaks eye contact first, looking down at hands that are clenched tight in her hoodie. “Lookin’ forward to getting’ to know you proper, and. Scarlet I swear to God you’re halfway on my lap, ho. I’ma kick you outta this van you don’t shove over.”

Brooke goes back to looking out windows, tells herself that this is not going to happen. Whatever that weird moment was, it was just a moment. Crumple it up like tissue and throw it away. 

She’s not too worried about it, honestly. She doesn’t do that sort of thing much, doesn’t have the time for it. And she’s never dated another queen before, it’s not really her thing. Vanessa’s cute as hell, but both of them have too much to prove here and Brooke’s worked too hard to get here to be distracted by the first pair of dewy brown eyes she sees.

Brooke has walls around her heart, anyway, and no one gets past those.  She’s not in any danger.

She wants that to be true.)

“So maybe. Stop it?” Nina says. “I don’t know.”

“I legitimately don’t deserve you.”

“Who does? Haven’t met him yet. Probably will soon, though, like on the set of AllStars 5. I’m coming for you, Drag Race romance. Oh shit, what if it’s the Vixen?”

“I’ve changed my mind. You’re the worst.”

“She’s a fighter, I’m a loverrrrr.”

“I’m going to hang up on you.”

“You say that, but you never do.”

When they eventually say goodbye to each other, Brock realizes he has three missed calls from his manager, and two passive aggressive emails.  They want him to say something, make a statement, set the record straight. Reporters are calling for interviews (Christ, and they haven’t even see the reunion yet.)

Jose also hasn’t called or texted.  Not once.  And that’s fine.  It makes sense.  It’s fine.

Instead of doing the responsible, professional thing (he might need a new manager by the time this shit is finished) he dials a number his hands would recognize in the dark.  There’s no answer.  He contemplates hanging up (throwing his phone into the sea) but instead grinds his molars together and stays on the line.  Waits for the beep.

“Hi, it’s uh Brooke.  Brock. We should probably talk, hey? About - that. That thing that happened. Anyway, when you’re up for it, give me a call.” (Oh my God, I’m in love with him.) “Anyway.  Hopefully - talk to you soon.  Okay. Um. Bye.”

Brock waits for his heart to restart, waits for his jaw to unlock just enough to breath. 

Then he goes on social media.  It’s all a bit of a blur after that.

* * *

After the lip sync, Brooke doesn’t go home. 

They move her to a different hotel in L.A. because she’s going to be back in a few days anyway for the reunion and the finale taping. She’s silent and robotic as she packs up her stuff, ratings poison.

She isn’t going to write anything on the mirror, but a producer basically won’t let her leave until she does and Brooke wants out of the werkroom so much she can barely breathe; she scrawls “My heart will go on,” barely legibly.  Then she draws a little ship underwater.  

She doesn’t read the letters the girls leave for her. Not at first.

She waits until she’s in her new hotel room, a couple drinks in to give her the necessary emotional buffer. The new room has more of a view than the last one, and she can see the ocean off of her balcony. Dusk is falling over L.A., smog mostly blocking out the sunset, and Brooke chain smokes (not good) and tries to meditate half-heartedly before she can bring herself to touch the folded papers.

In the end it doesn’t matter.  Because Vanessa didn’t write one.

Brooke laughs out loud when she realizes it, and doesn’t recognize the sound of her voice. Of course Vanessa didn’t write her a letter. After an exit like that, what the hell was she supposed to say?

The days leading up to the reunion are like weights around her wrists and ankles. Brooke goes to the hotel gym for hours every day, and follows it up by jogging on the beach. She throws herself into everything physical, tries to exhaust her body so much that her mind will shut off. She can’t think about what she’s done. Can’t think about what’s going to happen.  How it’s going to look.

And she hates that public perception is such a huge part of her concern, but fuck it, that’s how she makes her living.  And now she has no control over it, can’t remember most of it, and is going to have to do some wild amounts of damage control when the season airs.

They send a van to drive her to the theatre for the filming of the reunion. She arrives late and rattled, but is relieved to see Nina and Plastique and a bunch of the other queens already in the dressing room, getting into drag.  It feels good (for a moment) to be hugged and smiled at by people who don’t know how spectacularly Brooke Lynn just fucked up. She has to take these moments while she can, because God knows it’s all going to come out in a few hours.

Soju’s cyst is healing nicely, so there’s that.

“I can’t believe you’re here,” Nina says to the mirror, as Brooke pins her wig in place. “I thought you’d be Top 4 for sure.”

“You and me both.” Brooke tries to smile, brush it off. “Hoped you’d be up there with me.”

“So what happened? Can you like, mime it or something? Was it all those burner phones of yours? All the strange men you were smuggling into your room at night?”

Brooke laughs but the sound is like ice-cracking. “I’ll let Ru tell you all about it.”

The Top 4 queens get dressed somewhere else, so Brooke doesn’t see Vanessa until they’re making their way onstage (she tilts slightly, almost falling but not quite.)

Vanessa is flanked by Silky and A’Keria, and she’s wearing that electric orange/red again, a cocktail gown with huge feathered shoulders, a high neck and no back. She looks the best she ever has on the show, and Brooke feels the ground sliding underneath her heels as Vanessa meets her eyes from across the stage and quickly looks away.

Brooke bumps into Ariel as they find their seats. She can’t stay upright.

“Welcome back ladies.” RuPaul takes the stage in a neon orange patterned suit, smiling brightly. Brooke thinks she’s smiling back, but she can’t be sure.  Her face is not in control of itself when Vanjie’s in the room.  

The reunion is a bit of a blur after that.  But Brooke remembers the important parts.

[Transcript: RuPaul’s Drag Race Season 11: Reunited

Time stamp: 00:34:18

RuPaul Charles: Now, every year on Drag Race we know that the queens competing connect with each other in important and lasting ways.  But this season, for the first time in Drag Race herstory, two queens had a very special kind of connection, right from the start.  Let’s take a look at some footage of - what the kids are calling - ‘hashtag Branjie.’

[A compilation of Brooke Lynn and Vanessa’s interactions is played. The queens onstage smile and ‘aww’ over particularly cute moments.]

RuPaul Charles: So Brooke.  Vanjie. Did you two know each other before the show?

Vanessa Mateo: [pause] I’ve talked about this before, like, we didn’t know each other.  He messaged me after Season 10 and I’d seen, you know, photos of him -

Shuga Cain: Girl, we’ve all seen those photos of him.

[Laughter]

Vanessa Mateo: But we never met or anything until we did the show.

RuPaul Charles: So the show brought you together?

Vanessa Mateo: [pause] I mean. Yeah, like you’re in this situation where you’re going so hard and there’s so much pressure, and then you meet someone and there’s this feelin’ - I don’t know. Someone make that make sense. Edit that.

RuPaul Charles: Brooke Lynn, what was it like for you? Was there a spark right away?

Brooke Lynn Hytes: [does not respond]

RuPaul Charles: Brooke Lynn?

Brooke Lynn Hytes: [pause] Yes. There was.

RuPaul Charles: What was it like having that sort of chemistry but trying to balance the pressures of the show, the challenges, the runway…

Brooke Lynn Hytes: [pause] Um. Difficult.

Vanessa Mateo: [pause] From the get-go, we said ‘we gotta keep this thing to the side.’ You know? Like it wasn’t gonna affect the competition. 

RuPaul Charles: But ultimately it affected the competition in a big way, didn’t it? Let’s take a look at one of what is - I would argue - the most dramatic lip syncs in Drag Race history. 

[The final moments of Brooke Lynn and Vanessa’s lip sync is played.  The queens on stage are visibly shocked.]

RuPaul Charles: Brooke Lynn, what was going through your head at that moment?

Brooke Lynn Hytes: [pause] I - don’t know.

RuPaul Charles:  Well, it seems like at some point you made a decision to stop competing.  And to many people you were considered one of the front-runners of the season.  So what happened?

Brooke Lynn Hytes: [pause] I - I just stopped. [pause] I’m sorry, it’s my first time seeing it.  It’s all a bit - I’m having trouble.  Putting it together.

RuPaul Charles: I can see that. Vanessa, maybe you’ll have better luck.  What was going through your head when Brooke stopped dancing?”

Vanessa Mateo: [pause] You know I - I didn’t want to see that. I didn’t know what she was doing at first, and then I realized - I don’t know. It wasn’t good, I tell you that. Not a good feeling.

RuPaul Charles: Why’s that?

Vanessa Mateo: It felt like maybe - she felt sorry for me? And I didn’t want that. I wanted to prove that I deserved to be here, you know, I didn’t want to be given nothing.

Brooke Lynn Hytes: No, it wasn’t like - 

RuPaul Charles: Do you have something to say about that, Brooke?

Brooke Lynn Hytes: [pause] No. She should - say how she feels, sorry. 

RuPaul Charles: You know, during the season there was a lot of discussion about your lack of personality, your being ‘closed off.’ How do you feel about those comments?

Brooke Lynn Hytes: [pause] I - don’t know.

RuPaul Charles: You don’t know, or you’re not going to talk about it?

Nina West: Brooke and I have known each other for years and I think that at this point it’s pretty obvious that she has a personality. People were kinda being hard on her, but being a quiet person, being shy or thoughtful is also a personality, and -

RuPaul Charles: I guess it’s just not one that’s particularly fun to watch.

Nina West: I don’t know, you get a bit of vodka in her, and it is extremely fun to watch. [laughter] Occasionally disturbing, frequently sexually confusing, but always fun.

RuPaul Charles: Brooke, do you agree with Nina? That people were too hard on you this season?

Brooke Lynn Hytes: No. 

RuPaul Charles: Do you think you owe some of the other queens here an apology? Because I know you all worked really hard to be here, and then you chose -

Plastique Tiara: I don’t think Brooke owes us an apology.

Nina West: No. Absolutely not. She doesn’t. That’s -

Rajah O’Hara: I think she does. If she wanted to go home so bad she could’ve taken my place.  She didn’t want to dance against Vanjie, fine, I would’ve.  She should have sent her own self home Week One. That’s how I’m feeling.

Yvie Oddly: Girl, come on. That’s bullshit.

Rajah O’Hara: We all busted our asses to get here, we all of us have friends on this show, we have people we don’t wanna send home.  But we do it anyway, and to see someone just throw it away pisses me off.  It’s how I feel, I’m not gonna apologize for that. 

Scarlet Envy: But props to Vanjie. I mean, whose dick do I have to suck to get into the Top 4?

[Vanessa Mateo gets up, takes off microphone.]

RuPaul Charles: Vanjie -

[Vanessa Mateo leaves the stage.]

Scarlet Envy: Oh my god - it was a joke.

Silky Nutmeg Ganache [standing up]: You want to come for my girl, you come for me too.  Okay? She ain’t deserve that, that’s the fucking tea. That’s some shady ass -

Scarlet Envy: It was a joke!

RuPaul Charles: Silky, I know that emotions are running high but -

Silky Nutmeg Ganache: Nah, I’m serious -

Rajah O’Hara: Bitch, this ain’t about you!

[Brooke Lynn Hytes takes off her microphone.  Brooke Lynn Hytes leaves the stage.]

RuPaul Charles: Well. Okay. [pause]  Anyone else have somewhere to be?

[End transcription]

Brooke runs in the direction Vanessa left, through scattering P.A.s, over lighting cables and through the back stage area. She ends up in a hallway, sees Vanessa stomping it like it’s a runway down at the other end. Brooke hurries to catch up with her.

“We have to talk.” When Brooke touches her arm, Vanessa shrugs her off.

“No, we don’t.”

“Yes we do! I need to explain -”

“Explain what?” Vanessa looks up at Brooke and the hurt in her eyes is like lightning. “I came here wanting to show I was more than just a joke, that I was somethin’.  And now that’s done. That shit that Rajah said back there, that shit Scarlet said, that’s what everyone’s gonna say!  I’ma be the bitch who didn’t make Top Four on her own -”

“No. No one is going to think that -”

“They already do, Brooke!” Her hands are moving wildly. “You think I needed this? That you had to throw it for me?”

“No.” Brooke will swear to the grave that she never once thought that.  That she went into that lip sync with no intentions and then in the moment - the moment she saw that fucking tear run down Vanjie’s face - everything stopped.  “I know you could have done it, I’ve seen you dance and you’re fucking fierce.  I’m the one that fucked up, I’m the one that made a choice -”

“You made the wrong choice!” Vanjie’s angry now, in a way Brooke hasn’t seen since Untucked. “I didn’t ask you to do that!  I didn’t want you to do that!”

There is a camera person and a security guard moving silently down the hallway toward them, and Brooke cannot have this conversation be part of some reality show available to the fucking world. She takes Vanessa’s hand and pulls her around the corner, down another hallway and out of an emergency exit. The door slams shut behind them and they might be trapped outside in an alley for the foreseeable future, but at least they won’t be on camera. 

“I’m sorry,” Brooke says.  Vanessa has her arms folded.  She looks smaller than usual, even in her three inch heels. “I’m so sorry. I know you didn’t ask for this.  And I didn’t go on that stage with any sort of - plan, it just -”

“You felt sorry for me, right?”

“That’s not true -”

“That’s what it looks like, though. That’s what everyone is gonna think!”

“Let them think what the fuck they want then.  Does it matter? You’ll know -”

“Does it matter? You say that to me - it’s my life, my life they’re gonna be talkin’ ‘bout! Me as a queen! My career - everything -”

“It’s my career too.  It’s my whole life too,” Brooke’s voice is rising with frustration - frustration with the situation, with Vanessa - but most of all with herself.  “I have friends, family, they’re going to see that episode and they’re going to be fucking furious at me for what I did. I worked hard to get here, I worked damn hard, and when people find out that I just gave up -”

“Am I supposed to feel bad for you now?”

“Well, I didn’t makethe Top 4.” Brooke regrets the words immediately (Vanjie’s eyebrows knit together and it’s the end of the fucking world.) 

“So what do you want? A thank you card?” Vanjie’s hands are so tight on her arms that Brooke can see her acrylics leaving indents in her skin. 

“No. Jesus. I just - don’t know how to fix this.  Would you be any happier, would this all be okay if I had sent you home? Is that what you wanted?”

“So that’s what woulda happened, hey? That’s the only other option here?”

“No but – I don’t know what you want me to say! This was my dream, Vanessa. Okay? I’m still a little fucked up about it, and I don’t know -”

“I didn’t ask for your dream. I didn’t want it!”  Vanessa wipes away a tear, and Brooke is taken violently back to that moment on the main stage right before everything fell apart. “You can’t put that on me.” 

“I’m not putting it on you, I’m just trying to explain.”

“Explain why, then.” Vanjie pins her flat with her gaze, the way she did that first time she looked at Brooke across the werkroom (and every damn time since then.)  “Why did you do it?”

A hundred thoughts go through Brooke’s head. A hundred moments between her and Vanessa: passing each other in hotel hallways, sliding folded letters under doors, kissing in shadows like they were starving for each other, could never get enough.  Brooke opens her mouth and wants to scream these moments out of her chest, take them, take them, they hurt too much. She tries to put it into words.  Tries to piece it together like a mosaic made of glass shards.  She tries.

“We’re done,” Vanjie says quietly, and then her eyes squeeze shut. 

(There is something howling beneath Brooke’s skin, a wounded animal.)

“Jose -”

“Nah, nah, I can’t - do this right now.  You don’t even - we’re done.”

“Don’t -”

“It’s done.” Vanessa takes a step back. She doesn’t say anything else, just moves cautiously around Brooke until she gets to the door.  It opens and Vanessa goes inside and she’s gone then.  She’s gone.  It’s done.

At some point, Brooke slides to the ground.  She doesn’t know when, doesn’t feel herself moving, but she’s on the ground just the same.  

At some point, she hears the door slam shut. She has no idea how long she’s been out there., maybe minutes, maybe days. When she finally looks up, she sees A’Keria Davenport leaning against the brick wall, single eyebrow raised.  

“Everyone’s looking for you on the inside,” she says, “The pair of you sure know how to make a scene.”

Brooke doesn’t have the strength to respond. 

“Mama Ru was not happy everyone leaving her set, no ma’am. Thought she was goin’ to flip her wig when you took off after Miss Vanessa.” A’Keria pauses, and then she laughs.  It’s a wholly unexpected laugh, warm and without judgment. The pearl beading on her gown clicks together as she moves.  “Next season probably no one’s gonna even show for the reunion.  They’ll just all be off dealin’ with their drama somewhere.”

Brooke might laugh but then things might escalate, and any emotions are potential threats at this point.   

“Shouldn’t be sittin’ on the ground in chiffon, girl.  Show some respect.”

A’Keria offers Brooke her hand, and Brooke reluctantly lets herself be pulled to her feet.  She dusts off her gown through sheer force of habit.

“You gonna come inside? Or you live here now?”

The thought of seeing anyone else is paralyzing. Brooke doesn’t know if she can manage it.

“Maybe – a few more minutes. Is Vanessa –“

“She and Silk are off somewhere, don’t you worry ‘bout it. We’re takin’ care of her.”

“I’m glad she has you.”

“She is a lucky bitch, that’s true enough.” A’Keria gives Brooke a gentle touch on the shoulder. “But you got people too, Miss Brooke. Don’t forget that.”

From somewhere on her incredibly ornate dress, some magical secret pocket, she produces a cigarette and a slim silver lighter. 

“Shouldn’t be encouragin’ your nasty habits, but I thought you might need somethin’. And – when it comes to Vanjie –“

She looks thoughtful, the way she looks in the werkroom when she’s sewing, quiet and focused while Silky and Vanjie spout all manner of nonsense beside her. It strikes Brooke suddenly that of all the queens this season, A’Keria might be the one she knows least of all.

“You know, some people are better at gettin’ stepped on than gettin’ lifted up. See what I’m sayin’? You get stepped on enough, you start to think that’s how it goes.  So when something good happens, like someone gives you somethin’ you didn’t even know you deserved -  you don’t know what to do with that. It messes with that story in your head. The one that tells you what you’re worth.” 

“I wasn’t trying to give her anything. I know she could have made it without me -”

“Girl, you really think I’m talking about the show?” A’Keria moves gracefully back toward the side door. “I’m sayin’ she ain’t mad at you.  Not really. She just don’t know what to do with – all this. It can be a lot to hold.” She smiles, a bit sad. “I’m goin’ in. You take care now.”

Brooke thinks about A’Keria’s words long after she’s gone.  She stays outside and smokes that cigarette down to the tips of her burning fingers and then steps on it, crushes it between the pavement and her heel.  She counts to twenty-five, then thirty, then forty in her head.

She goes inside.

At the live finale, Brooke watches from the audience as Nina West is named Miss Congeniality, and Vanjie lip syncs for the crown.

Then she flies back to Nashville, alone. She feeds her cats, she works, she travels. She calls her mom, she jogs along Cumberland River, she dances at bars with men she doesn’t want.

She smokes too much, and doesn’t sleep enough.

She dreams.

She doesn’t see Vanessa for five months.