The Little Barmaid

by Holloway, Taylor

  “We’ve been working on this production for the last several months,” Derek was telling the audience. “It’s been a true privilege for each and every person attached to this film. We’ve put all our combined talent, perseverance, patience, and love into this movie. Blood, sweat, and tears were shed. And we’re so proud to finally be sharing it with you.”

  The audience applauded him eagerly. They were spellbound. Derek Prince had that effect on people. He’d definitely had that effect on me.

  I’d been such an idiot to think that he would love me. Maybe he did, a little. Maybe it was like Ursula said. When I was in the room, I was probably the only thing that he thought about. But when I left, he forgot all about me. There was a Doctor Who villain like that, if I recalled correctly. An alien that could only be remembered when you were staring right at them. The Silence, they were called. I was The Silence of girlfriends. As long as I was in the room, I existed. But once he couldn’t see me anymore, he forgot that I’d ever existed in the first place.

  Ursula had won. Despite everything, she’d totally and completely won. I might have managed to fix my money issues, and my contract issues, but now that I was standing here knowing that I’d lost Derek, it felt like I’d only won the battle. Ursula had won the war.

  Tomorrow, unless Ursula got wise and did it sooner, the story would break. The world would find out that Derek Prince, currently Hollywood’s favorite singing and dancing heartthrob, was cheating on Ursula Jones. Their picture-perfect relationship had been ruined by a homewrecking little redhead named Ariel Cross who got it in her conniving little head to sleep with Derek. He wouldn’t come out looking great. But I’d come out looking far worse, even if Clint the spooky studio guy didn’t come at me like a honey badger. I didn’t trust him.

  But none of it mattered. I’d be in Sacramento by this evening. My bags were packed. I did it all yesterday. The little studio apartment above Sebastian’s was empty and the sign that said ‘room for rent’ was back up in the window. After tomorrow, the only times I would ever see Derek Prince would be when I went to the movies. I shook my head against the thought of never seeing Derek again and tried to focus on what he was saying.

  “We’ve had a couple of technical difficulties here on set today,” he told the eager faces of Hollywood’s press corps. “Nothing we can’t handle, but I want to let you know that just behind that curtain there,” he gestured behind himself at the curtain, “our choreographer Mia is actually playing the piano.” It would also be where I’d be singing. “We’re one hundred percent live and authentic for you today with no backing track and no auto-tune. So be gentle in your reviews!” The audience laughed.

  One hundred percent live and authentic? Please. We might be live, but we couldn’t be less authentic if we were all computer generated. The fact that I was about to sing live and have Ursula lip-sync was a deep and painful blow to my pride. I almost hated Derek for it, although he was only nominally to blame. It was really just bad luck.

  “The first number that we’re going to perform for you today comes from the beginning of the film. I’m not going to give too much of the plot away. That wouldn’t be fun at all because nobody likes spoilers,” he said, pausing for the audience reaction, “but I can tell you a little bit. We’re at a nightclub. It’s the year 1933. I’m an undercover FBI agent trying to root out a criminal element. Ursula Jones is a nightclub singer with a shady past and a complicated present. And we’re just about to fall in love.”

  That was the cue for the chorus girls to come on stage. I was omitted from this number now, standing on the sidelines and watching them come out with Ursula to sing the song. She was just dancing in this number, it was Derek doing the singing, but it felt extremely weird to be sitting here with the microphone.

  The number started and Derek started to sing. I fell in love with him all over again, despite my better judgement. His voice was so beautiful, and watching him dance with Ursula with the whole chorus in the background singing and dancing to back them up was like something from a very different, more elegant age of Hollywood.

  The number was complicated. It started out as a simple ballad, but then, in the middle of the first chorus, Ursula and the chorus started to syncopate the rhythm. Soon, the slow, melodic music turned upbeat. Derek’s character, a stoic and otherwise square FBI agent, was swept up in the music. Conveniently, he also happened to be an excellent tap dancer (this was a musical after all). Soon, the entire chorus line and Derek and Ursula were performing an entirely different number than the one he started. It was exciting, lively, and toe-tappingly catchy. Derek could dance just as well as he could sing. More importantly, he could dance while he sang. He sold the audience that it was love at first sight for him and Ursula. If people hadn’t believed their relationship before, watching him sing to her and lead her and the chorus through a tap routine was proof enough.

  The number ended with a huge duet performed by Derek and Ursula. He swept her up in his arms and flipped her, spinning her around and then dipping her low in a series of steps that looked more like swing dancing than tap dancing. Then the music abruptly ended with them holding hands and staring at each other as if the stars had just aligned to bring them together, and no matter what, they would figure out a way to make that happen. Even though he was an FBI agent and she was a gangster’s reluctant girlfriend. Luckily, they had the whole rest of the movie to figure that out.

  The audience was stunned. They erupted in rapturous, resounding applause. It was only one number and they were already on their feet and begging for more. It was just what we all had been hoping for. Success.

  Eventually the audience died down. The chorus left the stage. Derek gave the cue to Mia.

  It was time for me to do my part. I walked out behind the curtain to where Mia was waiting. I nodded at her to start playing.

  50

  Derek

  The piano arrangement of the second song, the show-stopping love ballad from the emotional climax of the film, was not as impressive as the backing track with the full orchestra would have been. But the stripped-down, minimalist accompaniment did mean that all attention was on Ursula when she started to sing. Predictably, when Ariel’s voice rang out through the theater, the audience was totally stunned.

  This was a song of longing and redemption and Ariel’s sweet soprano voice soared through the verse like it had been written just for her. Ariel was one of those few performers that had no break in her voice, she could go straight from her midrange up into her head voice without the slightest resistance or effort. As she lifted up the scale into the chorus, I felt the audience take an audible gasp. She was phenomenal. Transcendent. They couldn’t even believe their ears and I could tell by the dumbstruck looks on their faces that they wanted more, more, more.

  I knew the feeling. Ever since I’d first laid eyes on Ariel, I’d wanted more. It was only natural that they should too. The only problem is that the audience wanted it from Ursula and not Ariel. Their adoration was misplaced.

  There wasn’t any dancing in this number. It was too vocally challenging, for one. For two, it would only distract. This song was so powerful, so emotional, that dancing during it would seem odd. It was a song that demanded one’s full attention whether you were listening or performing. Ariel certainly had my full attention at the moment, even though it was Ursula I was staring at.

  My part of the song started halfway through, after the first chorus. I sang my verse staring adoringly at Ursula, hitting my own high notes and trying to impart all my notes with the genuine love I felt for Ariel. This song came at the point in the story where we both thought that all hope was lost. But this song wasn’t about losing love. It was about finding the will to keep fighting for it. It had certainly inspired me to do just that.

  When my verse ended and Ursula’s next verse began, I started inching my way toward the curtain. I had to hand it to Ursula, she was a world class lip-syncher. She really sold it. If you didn’t know the truth, you’d think sh
e was really performing. She even timed her breaths right. And she was so focused on selling the act that she didn’t even realize that I’d drifted off stage left and given the signal to the stagehand I’d bribed to send the curtain skyward.

  Woops. What a weird accident! Oh well, too late now.

  Ariel and Mia looked panicked as they were revealed to the audience. Ariel blinked into the bright lights and stared.

  Ursula was so caught up in her virtuoso performance that she didn’t even notice as the audience gasped. She probably assumed that they were just spellbound by her moving transition from the verse back into the high note sprinkled chorus. Surely it was just her incredible performance that had them standing up and taking pictures. Obviously, it was just her stunning talent that had them whispering behind their hands. It wasn’t until Ariel stopped singing and the piano cut off a few bars later that she even paused in her act.

  Ariel was frozen on the spot. Still wearing her chorus girl outfit and clutching the microphone, she stared at me, then at Ursula, and then out at the audience. Her face flushed as crimson as her hair.

  Ariel looked like she was two seconds from bursting into tears. If only she knew that this was all about to be so much better. This moment might be awkward and unexpected, but it was going to buy us both a lifetime of joy if we played it right. And I was determined to play it right.

  Ursula, however, didn’t know how to play it at all. Realizing the jig was up, she turned the color of puce and bolted off the stage in a hurry. As soon as Ursula moved, Ariel did too, but in the opposite direction—down the front stairs of the stage and through the house to the exit. It was the fastest way out of the theater.

  Crap.

  Stop running!

  I had not been expecting that.

  “Stop that woman!” I yelled at the audience. “Please! Please everyone! Stop her from leaving!”

  The audience assisted after a silent, stunned moment, standing to flood the aisles with their cameras, microphones, and bodies. The house went from quiet to cacophonous in a sudden, startled instant. What they’d just witnessed was beginning to sink in and they all had opinions about it at once.

  “I have an announcement to make,” I said, reaching out to Ariel and gesturing to her to come back on stage. She shook her head at me urgently. She wanted to run. “Although it looks like we’ve had some additional technical difficulties with the curtain,” I wasn’t going to advertise that I’d orchestrated it, of course, “I might as well be the one to introduce this incredible performer here today. Everybody, please meet and welcome Ariel Cross.”

  Ariel was surrounded by people out in the theater aisle. She looked up at me with a mixture of wonder, fury, embarrassment, and shock on her face. I reached my hand out to her and she shook her head. Then she looked behind her, reevaluated her options, and reluctantly returned to the stage. Her way out was blocked. She had nowhere else to go. Up on stage with me, Ariel hung her head.

  I smiled though and projected my joy into my voice at seeing Ariel finally be recognized for her work. “Ariel here is the voice that you’ll be hearing in ‘She Done Him Wrong’,” I told the audience. “She recorded all of Ursula’s songs for the film as well as dancing solos in the chorus line. She’s really something, isn’t she?”

  The audience clapped excitedly. They were, after all, press. This was a story if there ever was one, a story delivered live in front of a few hundred cameras.

  Ariel stared at me, looking like she either wanted to murder or kiss me. I wasn’t sure which, but it was a very intense look. I smiled back at her encouragingly.

  “What have you done?” Ariel whispered to me. Just offstage, Holden and Clint were both staring at me, stunned. I wasn’t sure if their ultimate reaction would be good or bad, but it was too late now for them to intervene. They knew this situation was under my control now—I had the mic. There was nothing that they could do but watch.

  I shrugged. “I’ve decided to tell the truth,” I answered in a low voice. “No more secrets. No more lies.”

  “Let’s all hear it for Ariel,” I said, gesturing to her. The audience roared its appreciation back at us and I could see Ariel start to be won over, just a little bit. They loved her. I knew they would love her. I’d always known it, because I did too.

  “I know you’re going to love Ariel. She has done an incredible job on this film and I happen to have one more revelation for you to take back to your viewers and readers,” I told the audience. “Thankfully, now that we’re getting everything out in the open, I want you to hear it from me first—I love Ariel Cross.”

  The audience went wild. Ariel’s flushed face turned pale and then flushed again. I reached out my hand and she took it, staring at me like she wasn’t sure that any of this was even real. I grasped her hand tightly and pulled her to me, kissing her for the whole world to see and photograph. I wanted the whole world to know.

  51

  Ariel

  “What have you done?” I stuttered, staring at Derek as the curtain went down in front of us.”

  My body was still resonating with the sound of the audience applause and the kiss Derek had just given me for all the world to see. Like a bell, I was ringing with it. Shaking from it. I worried I might shake myself apart.

  They’d liked me. All those people out in the audience had clapped for me. My whole world was different now than it had been a moment ago. And Derek loved me. He said it in front of everyone.

  “Derek,” I repeated. “What in God’s name have you just done?”

  “Me?” he asked innocently.

  “Yes, you!” I hissed. “What was that?”

  Derek simply shrugged his broad shoulders, smiled, and held my hand in his. “Nothing. It just looks like we’ve had a few technical difficulties is all.”

  I wasn’t able to come up with a response. I literally couldn’t make words come out of my mouth. For the first time in perhaps my entire life, I was completely and totally speechless.

  Derek had just revealed me to the entire world. He’d revealed everything. I felt like a fever had just broken all around me as the secrets were laid bare. It was freeing. But it was also terrifying.

  Surely there would be consequences now. Big ones. But I couldn’t think that far ahead. I was barely even able to process what had just happened. Trying to think into the future felt borderline impossible.

  “Well played,” Clint said, coming out from the wings now that the stage was out of sight. Holden was with him. “I think you managed that situation in the best way you possibly could.”

  “Thank you,” Derek said, smiling and shaking his hand. “I appreciate that.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “It’s odd that both the sound equipment and the curtain would malfunction that way.”

  “Live performances are always so unpredictable. I trust this will eclipse any other news you might have become aware of.”

  “Any news?” Clint asked.

  Derek’s voice dropped an octave. “You know what I mean.”

  Clint and Derek stared at each other. Whatever was going on between them was probably well above my pay grade. But whatever it was, whatever the secret communication said, Derek won. Clint looked away first. “I do. Well,” he said, “at least all our PR problems are solved as far as this movie is concerned.”

  I blinked. “They are?” I asked. I knew that Clint the studio guy probably didn’t want to talk to me, I was still far beneath his notice, but he nodded.

  Derek nodded too. “Yeah, we should be in the clear now,” he explained. “The pictures that Ursula had of us are worthless now. They’ll never see the light of day.”

  Clint sighed. “Fine.” He took a deep breath and looked at his watch. “I better get going,” he said. “Try not to create anymore headlines for a bit, would you?”

  “I’ll do my best,” Derek said, smiling.

  He squeezed my hand. “Ariel, I’m sorry. Although I didn’t like it at the time, I know that you were right to stop letting
these lies and secrets keep building up. I’m sorry for everything.” He looked down at me seriously. “Ariel, I’m sorry I lost my temper yesterday. I— I love you.”

  I kissed him and cut him off. “It’s okay,” I told him. “I lost my temper too. We were both under a lot of pressure.”

  He frowned. “We were, but that hardly justifies it.”

  “I think you kind of made up for it today,” I told him, looking around at the stage where my life had just changed. “I can’t believe this just happened.”

  “I’m sorry I had to surprise you like that,” he said, pushing a curl back from my face to look into my eyes. “I needed to make it look like an accident.”

  I blinked up at him. “So, it wasn’t technical difficulties?” I asked.

  He shrugged. “It might have been.”

  I sidled up to him, reaching my arms around his neck and pulling him closer to me. “But was it?”

  He shook his head. “No. I wanted the world to see you. I wanted them to love you as much as I do. And now they will.”

  I took a deep breath. “Things are going to be different now, aren’t they?”

  Derek nodded. “Yes, they are. They’re going to be a lot better.” He paused. “You still love me, right?”

  I laughed. “Of course, I still love you. Don’t you remember? I’ve loved you since I was fifteen.”

  He grinned at me. “I’m a big fan of yours too.”

  Epilogue

  Ariel

  “Do you want to sing?” Derek asked me, nodding toward the little jewel-box of a karaoke stage. His blue eyes caught the lights from the stage, and I was momentarily transfixed. I’d been slowly coming to terms with the fact that he was going to keep on striking me speechless and making my heart pound with just his looks forever. I certainly didn’t mind.