Chapter Text
Finally, a day all to yourself! You fell down on your armchair, nursing a cup of tea and with a book in hand. You really needed this after all the chaos of yesterday.
Ah, you shouldn’t think about yesterday for too long. You had already done so all night, cringing over your ‘performance’ for so long you had barely gotten any sleep at all. This was like your embarrassing teenage concerts all over again, in the worst way possible.
You flipped to the next page in your book, skimming over the words only to realize that you didn’t even absorb the last paragraphs at all. Oh, for heaven’s sake, were you seriously still hung up on that? Let the past be the past! You had cleared out your schedule for the whole week – it was about time you got some time to decompress. You had just completed your last contract, so you were completely ready to kick back and –
DING DONG.
…Of course. You put down your book and sighed.
What were you thinking? A moment’s rest, in this place? Maybe in your dreams!
You half considered just not getting up. What if you just pretended you were asleep, or somewhere else? Would they go away?
DING DONG. DING DONG. DING DONG. DINGDONGDINGDONGDINGDONG –
Okayokayokay, apparently not! You slammed your hands over your ears and winced. What could be so important for this person to have a spasm on your doorbell?! This better be urgent!
You got up and stumbled over to your front door, opening it in a rush. “Alright, alright, I’m here! You can stop ringing now, you know!”
You stared down at none other than Sally, who had her hand poised to slam down on the doorbell again. She looked up at you like a child who had gotten caught with their hand stuck in a cookie jar, before coughing and straightening up.
“Ah, newcomer, finally! I had just begun thinking that you did not hear my call,” she said.
You exhaled. “Trust me. I heard it.”
“Splendid! I am glad that you were able to answer me, albeit a bit slowly,” she said, slightly disapproving. “We can continue to work on your punctuality when you start at the theatre.”
Your jaw dropped. “What – punctuality? I didn’t even take a minute to answer!”
“A minute is a minute too long!” Sally said, waggling her finger at you as if you were a kindergarten student. “A true thespian should understand urgency. And when I, the star, the sun, the glory, happen to bestow my presence upon you, it is the definition of urgency!”
“Huh?” you said dumbly, utterly confused. There was only one thing that Sally needed you for. “Are you talking about the whole soundtrack designer thing? I thought you said that was starting in a few days …as in, plural.”
“And it is. I am no liar,” Sally huffed. “I assure you that I wasn’t planning to come to you so soon, but something unprecedented came up.”
Unprecedented? This sounded like it would take a while.
You looked back at your armchair and freshly brewed cup of tea reluctantly. So much for a relaxing day in.
“...I suppose I’m not doing anything important right now,” you sighed. “What is it?”
Sally looked to the side and crossed her arms. She looked vaguely hesitant, and though you didn't know her that well, it seemed rather out of character. You frowned, shutting the front door behind you silently. Maybe this was urgent, after all.
“As you know, we’re on a tight schedule for production,” Sally started. “I had all the actors come in today to run through the script and practice some lines, which of course went spectacularly due to my amazing direction, but that's besides the point. The real issue arose with the singing practice –”
“Singing?” you asked.
“Interrupting again?” Sally said, unimpressed. “We really need to work on your manners, newcomer. But yes, we are practicing singing. This is a musical, after all – you do know what a musical is, I assume?”
Oh, right! Sally mentioned that in her announcement a week ago. You had been too distracted by the mysterious and conveniently-timed thunderclaps to focus, then. “Ah, okay, I remember now,” you said sheepishly.
“Yes, so of course you understand why adequate singing is important for the play,” Sally nodded. “I had assumed that everyone was already competent in that, but I suppose that wasn’t necessarily…the best foresight on my part,” she forced out. “I’ve been backed up into quite the corner.”
You raised your eyebrow. “So you need my help with, uh,” you paused, trying to understand what she was saying. “Someone’s…singing?”
“No, you fool! When did I say I needed your help?” Sally scoffed. Uh, was she not just asking for your help just now? “I simply need your counsel for a brief moment. Of course, I could do everything perfectly myself! I am the expert – why would I look for help from a newcomer?”
“Oh, okay,” you said, bewildered.
So she didn’t need you? Why was she here then? “So I can leave?” you asked, already whipping open your door again to hurry inside.
“W-wait, not so fast!” Sally suddenly grabbed your wrist to stop you from slipping indoors. “Now, I didn’t – I didn’t say that you were completely unnecessary. I mean, I obviously could do everything myself, but we’re rather busy this time of year, and I have to manage the rest of the cast and direction, and in all honesty I admit I've never actually worked with live singing before…” she trailed off, looking panicked.
“So,” you said. “You need my help?"
She looked like she had just swallowed sour lemons. “You could put it that way. Only a little, though,” she rectified, pressing her fingers together to emphasize just how little she needed you. Hold on, why were her fingertips touching?!
“Okay, I get it,” you laughed, leaning on your doorway. “But I don’t know if I’ll be very useful. I mean, I’m an instrumental musician, not a singer.”
Sally shook her head. “That’s fine. As long as you’re decent at your job, I trust that you’ll be able to tell if someone’s off-beat or off-tone. You just need the basics. And honestly, the most important part will be your presence, anyways,” she added, thoughtfully.
Your gaze wandered to the side. Did you really deserve that trust? You really weren’t exceptional in the slightest. You didn’t want to annoy Sally too much, though, so you just nodded.
“That sounds fine, then,” you said. “Who were you struggling with? And what’s the issue?”
Sally coughed, looking somewhat ashamed.
“It’s…ah. It's Poppy.”
“Poppy?” you repeated, astounded.
Out of all the cast, you didn’t expect her to be the one having trouble. Besides, weren’t Sally and Poppy good friends? They were always stuck to each other like glue. Why would Sally want you to help Poppy out, instead of just doing it alone?
Sally nodded grimly. “That’s what I said, wasn’t it? And don’t worry about the issue. She can tell you herself,” she said.
“Er, okay,” you said, feeling awkward. “I’ll head over to her house, then…?”
“Yes, please do,” Sally said, her demeanor switching back to her usual vaguely-pleased-but-still-demanding state. “Many thanks, newcomer. I appreciate your help – er, advice,” she corrected, still not wanting to admit that she needed assistance. “Keep in mind that I expect rapid results, in time for our show next month. I will accept nothing less than perfection!”
You winced. For a moment there, she almost sounded like your piano teacher! Well, if Sally was indeed such a perfectionist, you better help Poppy quickly, lest she suffer Sally’s wrath.
“I’ll try my best,” you replied.
You stepped back into your doorway, intending to get ready before heading over. Before you shut the door behind you, though, you heard Sally call out to you again.
“Oh, and, newcomer?”
“Yeah?” you replied absently.
“Don't you dare be too harsh on her.”
You blinked, taken aback. “I, uh, wasn't planning to?”
“Good!”
Sally nodded approvingly, turning around to leave. You watched her slowly fading figure for a bit before closing the door. Jeez. As if you, of all people, would be a harsh teacher! It’s not like you were the one saying you wouldn't accept ‘anything less than perfection!’
Honestly. These neighbors were nuts.
***
“Hello, Poppy?”
You knocked on the door to no response.
“Hello…? Is anyone home?”
Agh, it was just your luck to catch her at a time when she wasn’t there. You had expected Sally to have warned her beforehand – though, now that you were thinking about it, it was probably a last minute request on her part.
You sighed. Hey, at least you tried. You had wanted to help your neighbors out, especially Poppy, who had been nothing but pleasant to you, but you weren't just going to stand outside of her door waiting like some sort of lost child.
You gave the door one last final knock, not expecting much, except this time, a loud crash resounded from within the house, followed by several panicked squawks.
The door burst open with a flurry of feathers before you could even react. Poppy rushed out, bowing deeply and repeatedly at you.
“Oh goodness! I am so sorry to keep you waiting, Sally, I…um…uhh. You're not Sally?”
“Nope, I’m not,” you affirmed, wiping feathers off yourself. “Surprise?”
Poppy squeaked, looking mortified. “Y.N.! I’m so sorry, Sally told me to expect a visit and I thought she was going to come over, how embarrassing! And, ah, your face!” she cried, leaning over you and brushing the top of your head. “These feathers get absolutely everywhere, I am so sorry!”
A horde of feathers tornado-ed into your face as Poppy frantically tried to wipe you off, only managing to displace more of them onto you. You choked as you were nearly smothered, and quickly pushed her wing away. “Okay, okay, Poppy, it’s fine! Seriously.”
“Oh dear, did I just make everything worse?”
She did.
“No, you’re good,” you reassured instead. You brushed yourself smoothly, making all the feathers fall off you and onto the grass. “See? No big deal,” you shrugged.
“Oh!” Poppy laughed nervously. “That was a lot easier than I thought…um, thank you! Would you like to come inside?”
You nodded gratefully. She held the door open for you, and you stepped indoors.
“Woah…” you said, mesmerized. “Your house looks amazing!”
You had never seen a house like this before. It was styled like a barn, with a very high roof to accommodate Poppy’s height, evidently. A large, comfy looking L-shaped couch was laid on a thick rug on the left, with a gorgeous fully-furnished kitchen and adjoining island to the right. A wooden staircase led to a lofted bedroom area on a higher floor, and a variety of paintings fitting the mood were scattered across the place. Comparing her decor to yours, you almost felt envious.
Poppy ushered you over to the couch. “Thank you, dear! Just a bit of a bird's touch makes all the difference. Oh, but I won't talk your ear off about it. Come sit down!” she said, gesturing to the soft, soft looking chair. “I'll get you a cup of tea.”
Ah, it was refreshing to talk to someone who knew what was up! You hummed in thanks and sat down heavily on the soft couch, practically melting into its cushions. You could get used to this.
Hmm, the view was nice, too! You watched the fall leaves swirling to the ground through the windows, the birds chirping softly in the distance. If there was one thing you were glad for since you moved here, it was certainly the scenery.
“Sorry for the wait, dear. Here you go!”
“That was fast,” you noted, gratefully taking the cup of tea from Poppy’s hands – uh, wings? “Thanks!”
You took a sip of the tea to find it disappointingly lukewarm. You looked down at it in confusion. Was this really how she took her tea…?
“How is it?” she asked, sitting down across from you.
You gave her a strained smile. “It’s, um, it's good.”
She let out a relieved breath. “Thank goodness! I was worried it would be too hot.”
Too hot? What? Was she worried you would burn yourself? You blinked in bemusement and set the cup down on the coffee table, electing to not ask any questions. You were here to do something else, after all.
“So,” you started, “how’s the play going?”
Poppy jumped a little, laughing loudly and nervously. “Oh, that? It’s going good, of course it’s going good, why wouldn’t it be going good?”
You looked at her, raising your brows.
She nodded vigorously. “Yes, it definitely…um…” she paused, suddenly deflating at your scrutinizing stare. “Um, actually, to be honest, it might not be going the greatest.”
“How come?”
“Where do I even start?” she sighed. “I honestly don’t even know why Sally chose me for this role, I mean, I’m grateful, but it just doesn’t make any sense. I’m really not a good actor at all. Like today, when we were practicing our singing lines, I couldn’t even say a single one…embarrassing, isn’t it?” she laughed softly, ashamed.
“You couldn’t say a single line?” you said. “What do you mean?”
“I don’t know, it was just like the words were on the tip of my tongue, but they wouldn’t come out!” she said. “I totally messed up. Sally’s going to replace me, isn’t she?”
Your jaw dropped. “What? No, of course she isn’t! That’s the whole reason why I’m here right now – Sally’s the one who asked me to come help you out,” you chuckled. “She definitely wants you to be in this play, don’t worry!”
“She does?”
You nodded. “Certainly! What songs are you singing? Let's listen and see what we can do!”
“R-really? Thank you!” she said gratefully, before picking up a cassette tape covered in yellow star stickers and handing it to you. “The song I’m singing is on here…I can play it for you, dear, if you’d like.”
She inserted the tape, and you two both listened to it intently as it played. You weren’t too familiar with musicals, but it sounded pretty standard to your ears – a typical song about infatuation, with a catchy beat and just one tricky-sounding high note near the end.
“Well, it doesn't sound too difficult,” you mused. “What would you say your singing skill is?”
“Um, singing? Probably, uh, well I wouldn’t say I was bad , but certainly compared with someone like Sally,” Poppy said wistfully, “I’m nothing special.”
“That’s fine. I think as long as you know how to carry a tune, learning your songs will be a piece of cake!”
“Really?” She said incredulously.
“Uh…” you trailed off. In reality, you were not sure in the slightest about how long singing training needed, but you supposed that with enough hard work, anything could happen. “Yeah! Of course! Don’t you worry one bit about it!”
You slapped your knees with finality and said with all the confidence you could muster, “Now let’s hear it!”
Poppy nodded determinedly and promptly…turned the tape back on?
“Um, no,” you said hesitantly. “I meant your singing.”
“Bwa–huh? M-me? Now?”
Who else would you be talking about? A bit confused, you nodded.
“O…okay then…” She said reluctantly. You waited patiently as she took a deep breath of air, gearing up to belt out the beginning note.
And you waited.
And waited.
“You can start now, you know…”
She jumped and laughed nervously. “Oh, yes, right right! Here goes nothing!”
She took another deep breath. Then, she released it. And she took another deep breath. And then released it.
“Poppy? Everything alright?”
“Oh, I’m good! Let me just…ah…” she trailed off, growing a bit red from embarrassment. She looked like she was chewing on a sour lemon as she struggled to get the words out, and you were starting to get a little worried.
“Is there a problem or something?” you said hesitantly.
Suddenly, she burst out in a frustrated exclamation. “I’m so sorry, Y.N.! I just can’t do it!”
Oh, ah, oh jesus. She was really struggling with something, that was for sure, from the way she had hunched over on herself, practically pulling her feathers out of her head. You panicked, grabbing at her hands and holding them away from herself. “H-hey, what are you doing? Stop that!”
She changed from grabbing at herself to covering her face in shame, and oh god, was she crying? You weren’t qualified to deal with this!
“Um,” you said eloquently. “Hey, it’s okay! Let’s just start over, yeah?”
“I-I don’t know why,” she started, “but I just can’t! Oh no, I’m going to ruin all of Sally’s hard work!”
“What?! That isn’t true at all!” you said, shocked. Uh, how did asking her to sing a song turn into all of this?
“I appreciate it, I really do, but you don’t need to comfort me. I just know I won’t be able to do this,” she said sadly. “I’ll just have to talk to Sally and let her know that I’m going to drop out…”
You froze. She was going to quit? No, she couldn’t – you had promised Sally you would get her up to speed!
In a panic, you set a hand on Poppy’s shoulder in a last ditch effort to make her feel better. “H-hey, you don’t need to do that. I honestly think Sally would have my head if she found out I let her leading lady go.”
“Sally wouldn’t do that,” Poppy sniffled. “She’s nice.”
You would beg to differ, but that wasn’t the point. “Aha, of course she is, but you still shouldn’t bow out so fast, don’t you think?”
“Well, no, but I don’t have what it takes, so why should I waste everyone’s time?”
Your jaw dropped. She would really just throw in the towel? Now? When she hadn’t even started? “So you’re just going to quit?” you said, incredulously.
She nodded, looking guilty.
“No, you shouldn’t do that!” you said, urging her to consider giving it another shot. “Listen, no one gets better unless they try! With enough hard work, anybody can do it, even you.”
“But, Y.N., I really–”
But you were already shaking your head, a plan starting to formulate in your head. “Trust me,” you said, already full of determination. “All you need is a little bit of faith!”
You looked around, grabbing a nearby blank notepad and pen sitting on the coffee table. “See?” you said, scribbling down a practice regimen onto the paper. “I can come over twice or three times a week, whichever works for your schedule, and we can have hourly long practices to train your voice in time for next month…”
“H-hold on.”
“Yes?” you said, barely looking up from where you were laser-focused on your diagram.
“Actually, Sally said she wants us to have our singing ready by…next week.”
“What?” you gasped, pen falling limp in your hand. A week? For Poppy to go from no experience to performance ready?
“...yes, ah, it’s probably not possible, dear –”
But you were already muttering madly to yourself, crossing out your previous diagram and redrawing a larger, more complex one in its place. “Okay, okay, that’s fine,” you said, “We'll just have to meet every single day then, no exceptions. How do afternoons, 12 pm to 5 pm sound to you? Wait, ah, actually…let's do 12 pm to 6 pm.”
“Wait,” Poppy said. “Y.N., I really appreciate you for doing this, b-but are you sure this is okay? Don't you have work to do as well?”
You waved her off. Personally, it somehow felt as though helping out your new friends was more important than your actual job, likely because of this place’s lax style of payment. “It’s fine,” you replied. “Work has been light recently.”
That sounded way too good to be true. As a small musician, you weren’t used to having your ends met easily. You furrowed your brows, feeling like something wasn't exactly making sense.
“You're absolutely sure?”
“Huh?” You said, startling out of your reverie. “Oh, yeah, of course.”
You turned your written schedule around to show Poppy. It was completely filled to the brim. Her eyes visibly widened as her jaw dropped.
“What do you think?” you said cheerfully.
Poppy chuckled a bit. “Um…ah…it’s uhh. great!”
Ahh, that’s good to hear! You were worried she would think it was too difficult, but luckily Poppy was more of a go-getter than you expected. You beamed at her.
“By following this schedule you're sure to be ready in time! Oh, and, speaking of which,” you turned back your notebook to examine your words. “Today is the first day of the week. Let's begin our training now!”
You turned back to the record and turned it on, pausing after the first measure.
“The first note is an A chord, if that helps any…”
And sure, you might not understand a thing about singing, but you were confident that Poppy would be ready in a week. You two had the whole day ahead of you, after all!
***
The next day, you were awake before the sun rose, pacing your bedroom floor in deep concentration. “What should I do, what should I do, what should I do…”
No. Progress.
You almost couldn't believe it. A whole afternoon of practicing, and…nothing! She still couldn't utter an eep of a word that entire time, and you had left the same as you had started – completely hopeless.
Well…you didn't necessarily think that she was hopeless , but it was already one seventh of your allotted time and, at the rate you were going, you would be lucky to get her to sing a single line by the time you were done.
But that didn't mean you were giving up. In fact, you were even more determined to push Poppy to her limits than ever before. For her sake, and for Sally's play, you would do anything to make sure she'd become the star of the show!
The only question was…
How?
***
You could barely contain your excitement as you politely knocked on Poppy's door. “It's Y.N.,” you called.
The door creaked open, Poppy peeking from the other side sheepishly.
“H-hi again, Y.N.,” she said, voice weak. “Are we doing another lesson today – ?”
You barreled past her, a pep in your step as you pushed the door fully open. “Of course we are!” you said triumphantly. No question about it! You would never abandon an up-and-coming musician in need.
“Oh…” Poppy said. “...Great!”
She didn't exactly sound happy about it, but you were glad she was trying to put on a strong face despite it. That was a sign of great potential!
“I have good news,” you proclaimed, turning on the cassette to listen to the tape once more. “I think I might've figured out the problem!”
“You – you have?” Poppy said incredulously. “What is it?”
“Well, it's because it's kind of awkward singing with no backing track, right?” you figured. “That's why you're having trouble starting!”
“Is it?” she asked in surprise.
You blinked at her, at a sudden loss for words.
“Er, well, I was asking you,” you clarified.
“O-oh! Well, um, I guess that makes sense?” she stammered.
You raised a brow. Why'd it sound like she wasn't sure herself? Was your thinking off?
“Alright,” you said, a little unsure. Well, it shouldn't matter regardless. One lead was better than none. “I have a solution for that!”
You slung the case you were carrying over your shoulder, bringing out your trusty acoustic guitar. You strummed a few chords to the rhythm of the song as practice.
“I'll just play the backing track for you!” you said. “All you need to do is add the vocals. Easy, right?”
“E…easy,” she nodded, eyes trailing off into the distance.
***
It was not easy.
In the light of the setting sun, you let out a slightly disappointed sigh, shaking out your raw, aching fingers. Ouch. Even though it was your profession, you still weren't used to playing continuously for so long.
“I'm so sorry, Y.N.,” Poppy apologized. “I don't know what's wrong with me.”
You shook your head, even if you did feel at a loss for other ideas. “It's okay,” you sighed. “Just a normal part of the process.”
You weren't lying, because starting off was always a tricky thing, but – did it really take this long to pick up music? You tapped your foot anxiously, trying to think of how long it took you to start playing piano. You were certain even you had been faster…
“How do you do it?” Poppy sighed.
“Huh?” you said, startled out of your thoughts. “How do I do what?”
“I mean, I just wish I were more like you,” she said wistfully. “You never have trouble starting off a song.”
Your jaw dropped incredulously. “M-me? What gave you that impression?”
She blinked at you in confusion. “Well, you know, you're talented.”
“Talented?” you laughed. “No, I'm not talented at all. If you want talent, you should talk to my sister,” you added coldly.
“B-but, whaaat?” Poppy gasped. “Y.N., don't be so down on yourself! You're much better than me. You were even able to play Sally's song after only hearing it once!”
You shook your head. “Well, first of all, I heard that song on repeat for several hours yesterday,” you pointed out, making her flinch. “Also, that isn't talent, that's just hard work!”
“I'm sure it's a mixture of the two,” Poppy tried to reassure you.
“No, it's not.”
You sighed, letting out all your frustration in one large huff of air. This was a sore topic for you, but you didn't want to release all of your irritation on someone who was just trying to cheer you up.
“Look, Poppy,” you said, pinching your brow to stave off an oncoming headache. “You don't need talent to be a musician. That mindset is going to hold you back if that's your goal. Trust me, as long as you work hard, “talent” is completely worthless.”
She looked at you with a intimidated stare. “O…okay!”
Oops. That had come out a lot more bitter than you had wanted it to. You coughed awkwardly. “What I mean is, if you put in the hours, I'm sure you'll be able to do it. You have nothing to worry about.”
“Oh, um, that’s good to hear...”
The two of you stood in silence for a while, both of you at a loss for words. Suddenly, you were hit with the realization that even if Poppy was nice to you, and you were tasked with helping her out for the play, you didn't actually know anything about her.
You rubbed the back of your neck self-consciously. “See you tomorrow, then?” you asked.
“Of course,” she agreed. “See you tomorrow, dear.”
You nodded briskly and left her warm house, stepping out into the chilly evening air.
After the door shut behind you, you slapped a hand against your face and groaned. Great. That wasn't awkward at all, Y.N.! Good going! You would be lucky if Poppy didn't absolutely hate you after that, surely.
***
As the door shut behind Y.N., Poppy delicately sat down on the couch and picked up one of her various soft pillows, bringing it up to her face. She promptly began screaming into it.
Oh, dear. If Y.N. wasn't frustrated enough with her already, they sure were now, all because of her big mouth! Poppy didn't really know what she had said wrong, but the look Y.N. had given her, gosh! They totally hated her!
Despite all of Y.N.’s kind efforts, Poppy had made zero progress. Zilch. Nada. She could see from the look on their face that they were getting awfully frustrated with her – they had to be! She was a total failure!
And what's worse, when she wanted to cheer them up a little by telling them how much she looked up to them, she totally flubbed it. Goodness, she should've said “skilled,” not “talented!” What was she thinking? Creatives always had those pet peeves, it was so obvious now that she was replaying that conversation on loop in her mind, gosh, Poppy, you were a mess!
If only Sally were here…
Poppy sighed. Sally would know what to do – she always knew what to do. She was so cool, and strong, and confident, and somehow, she believed in Poppy. Well, she did believe in Poppy…until now.
Poppy fell back on the couch with a sad exhale. After this, there was no way Sally would ever want to be around her again, not after knowing how much of a mess up she was. Sally was already trying to pull away from her – after all, why would she not let Poppy attend the regular training lessons with the others? Why would she send Y.N. to teach her separately? It had to be because she was too nice to say what they had all been thinking: Poppy wasn't good enough to be in this play!
She should've just told Sally beforehand that she was no good for this role. The lead actor? Her? That was…that was just a daydream, wasn't it? But at the time, she had been so touched that Sally had such a high opinion of her, she had already accepted before she could properly think it through!
“What have I done?” she muttered softly. “...Should I still back out?”
Ah, that was just wishful thinking. There was no way she could back out now, not with everything Sally and Y.N. had done to support her. She appreciated their help, honestly, but she really, really didn't have the talent to do this kind of thing!
Wait.
Talent?
Poppy paused her mental breakdown, thinking back to what Y.N. had said before with that scary, thunderous expression. They had said that working hard would make up for a lack of talent, right?
Was that really true, or were they just saying that to make her feel better? The terrifyingly determined glint in their eyes made it seem like they believed it, but then again, she had been working for hours these past few days with no improvement, at all!
Or…did that not count as “hard work”? What if just a few hours was considered barely anything? That did make sense, being a musician was a full time job, they all probably practiced day and night – and here she was, thinking that she could just waltz on in and become a great singer in just two days!
So what if she also practiced day and night? What had Y.N. said again?
“if you put in the hours, I'm sure you'll be able to do it.”
Poppy stood up, feeling a bit more hopeful than she had before. She knew she wasn't a great talent, and she also had no idea why she couldn't seem to get the words out in front of other people, but if she practiced more before tomorrow, maybe she wouldn't waste Y.N.’s efforts.
She walked over to the tape recorder and pressed play, getting ready for a long night of singing.
Everyone was putting in so much work just for her – she had to pay it back, somehow. And maybe, if she could manage this role…Sally would talk to her again, too.
***
“Poppy, did you hear me?”
Heh? What was happening?
Poppy blinked her bleary eyes open, suddenly blinded by the morning light shining through her curtains. Wait – huh– morning?! That couldn't be possible, the last thing she remembered was practicing the song when it was still dark out! Did she really stay up all night?
“Poppy?”
She looked down to see Y.N. kneeling in front of the cassette tape, looking up at her in confusion. Oh, dear! Y.N. was here already? B-b-but she didn't even finish her “hard work” yet!
“Are you okay?” they asked. “You seem a bit out of it…”
“I'm fine!” she squawked hurriedly. No need to make them even more frustrated with her than they already were. “Sorry, um, you were saying?”
“I was just asking if you'd like to start the song again. But, uh, are you sure you're doing alright? You keep zoning out.”
She was?! Oh, how rude of her! “I'm so sorry!” she gasped. “W-we can start now! Sorry for holding you up!”
“You're okay, don't worry about it,” Y.N. chuckled nervously. “You sure though? Is there anything you wanted to talk to me about, or…?”
“No, I'm good!” she stammered, even though she, for some reason, didn't really feel too good. She took a deep breath and gathered all her (very little) resolve despite that.
“I'm ready,” she said.
Y.N. nodded, still looking a little concerned, and picked up their guitar.
“Alright,” they said, “then just follow my lead, okay?”
They started strumming to the song, experienced fingers dancing along the strings as Poppy struggled to sing even half of a word.
Come on, Poppy, you could do this! She sucked in a deep breath as she tried her best to concentrate. She had practiced all night for this, and she swore she could do it! She even sang the whole song to herself just a few hours ago – why couldn't she do it now? Goodness, shouldn't this be easy? It was just singing!
But her mind felt oddly fuzzy, and her mouth moved but made no sound. What was happening? She could do it just fine before! Now, though, she couldn't think of the lines she had previously memorized even if she tried.
And oh, dear. Y.N. was looking at her weirdly now. She had missed her cue, hadn't she? She definitely had. She had waited way too long and now she looked like a crazy person with her mouth gaping wide open! How was she supposed to fix this? Should she interject now? But, hold on, this wasn't the right time anymore, but if she waited any longer, it would be even worse –
“Okay,” Y.N. said, stopping their playing. “Okay. Let's stop here.”
Poppy felt cold seep into her body, suddenly jolting wide awake. No! Did she just mess up her last chance? Was Y.N. finally fed up with her? Stupid! If only she had practiced more last night!
“-- Clearly, this isn't working,” Y.N.’s voice said, finally filtering into Poppy's ears. She blearily blinked her eyes open to find them pacing across the room, a stressed look on their face. Oh, shoot! They were speaking now? Why why why couldn't she just pay attention?
“I'm so sorry!” she cried, defaulting to the phrase she knew would help smooth things over. “I keep messing up. I-I really don't think I can do this.”
She squeezed her eyes shut, bracing herself for Y.N. to tell her that she wasted their time by being absolutely hopeless. But, surprisingly, they didn't.
“No, it's not you,” Y.N. mused. “It’s the way we're going about this – I need to think of something to address the actual problem at hand. Talk to me. What's the issue?”
“I don't know,” she admitted. “I practiced all night just fine, but when it comes down to it, I can't do anything,” she said, ashamed.
Y.N. shot her a surprised look. “All night?”
She nodded. “Yeah. You said that hard work could help, so I figured that I would practice more…”
Now, she didn't think Y.N. would necessarily be impressed by her, but they looked practically horrified. “I didn't mean that,” they said, taken aback. “You really stayed up all night?”
“I did,” she said. Did she do something wrong? Was she not supposed to?
“...I mean, I don't blame you,” Y.N. sighed. “I've done my fair share of all nighters too. But it's really not good for you – keep the practice in the daytime from now on, yeah?”
They zipped up their guitar case and slung it over their shoulder, walking over to the front door.
“Where are you going?” she asked sluggishly.
They looked back at her. “I'm leaving.”
W-w-what?! They were leaving? Now?! But it wasn't even 6 pm yet!
“Huh?! Why? Was it something I did?”
“What? No!” they said. “You don't actually want to have a six hour practice after pulling an all-nighter, right? Get some rest and I'll be back soon.”
B-but wait, if she wanted to star in this play, she'd need all the practice she could get! “No, wait, I can still do the lesson! I feel fine!”
“You feel fine,” Y.N. repeated incredulously. “Poppy, you zoned out no less than five times when I was talking, and just – look at yourself! You can't even stand straight!”
On cue, Poppy’s legs grew weak and she toppled back onto the couch with a thud. These dreadful legs, they betrayed her! She looked down at them with a glare.
“See? Just rest. You'll thank me later.”
“Dear, wait,” she said, one last desperate attempt to get Y.N. to stay. “Didn't you say that hard work can make up for anything? Because without today's practice, I-I really don't think I can do it.”
She meant for that to be persuasive, but it came out more like a plea. Y.N.’s eyes furrowed.
“What? Did you think that I was leaving for good?” they asked. “No, I'm coming back later today, in about, uh – let's say two hours. That should be enough for a quick nap.”
“You are?”
“Of course,” they shrugged. “You said it yourself – you need the practice. If you have any hopes for this role, we should be willing to do what it takes. Uh, let's refrain from doing all nighters though…that'll just make you less productive,” they added hastily.
“Oh, um, yeah, of course,” she nodded. “Thank you very much, I-I don't know how I can repay you!”
“You can repay me by getting some sleep.”
She nodded vigorously. “I will! Thanks again!”
“Mm, no problem. See you soon.”
And they were gone. She sighed. She knew she wanted to practice more and get better…but, why did she kind of dread it, also? She felt a little nauseous thinking about having to wake up two hours later and practicing while Y.N. looked at her with their worried glances.
Ah, that was probably because she was tired! Two hours was kind of short, but Y.N. thought it was enough, so she was sure that she would feel better after. Urgh, but her bed was so far away, maybe she could just sleep on this big…soft…fluffy…couch…
She was dead to the world before her head even hit the armrest.
***
You banged on the door, feeling a little worried that Poppy wasn't coming to open it. It had been two hours, right? She was usually very punctual – had something happened?
“Should I just…?”
You set your hand on the doorknob, noticing that the door was unlocked. No, wait, you shouldn't just barge in like that – that was rude! Also, maybe vaguely illegal? You weren't really sure, but it didn't feel right.
But you had promised her you would return after two hours, and you didn't want to seem unreliable by not showing up. Would you seem unreliable? She was probably still sleeping. You could not show up and she would be none the wiser. In fact, you could even get a few hours of much needed sleep also…
No, stop. What were you thinking? You still shouldn't go back on your word.
Mind made up, you creaked open the door, stepping inside the dark room quietly. “Poppy…?”
Ah. You were right. She was still sleeping.
Looking down at her prone form curled up on the couch, you were struck by a sudden spike of irritation. You had thought that she had finally understood the importance of hard work, and here she was now, snoozing the day away. How was she ever going to be ready by the end of the week? It was already halfway over!
You went to shake her awake, but then paused as she suddenly snored. Oh…she was really tired, wasn't she? Maybe this was your fault in the first place, after going on a deranged rant about hard work with no mention of proper boundaries. Not that you were good with those, anyways.
You sighed, sitting down on the couch beside her. “Ah, whatever,” you muttered. You'd let her sleep for a little while longer. She looked like she needed it.
***
Poppy woke up feeling pleasantly rested, yawning sleepily as the final dredges of sleep finally slipped away. Ahh…how nice! She could almost fall back asleep, but she felt like she was forgetting something, for some reason…
Wait! The singing practice!
She sat bolt upright, swinging her head from side to side, disoriented. H-huuuh? This wasn't right, it was all dark! Y.N. said they'd come back in two hours! Why was it suddenly night? Did she oversleep?!
“Y.N.?” she called out, eyes slowly adjusting to only the faint slivers of moonlight peeking through her windows. Oh, goodness, this was not good, not at all! They probably left her when they realized she wasn't dedicated enough to even wake up at the right time!
“Hmm? …What is it…?”
A tired voice called out from her left. Poppy whipped around, finally noticing the slow moving shadow sitting next to her. “Y.N.? Is that you?”
“Yeah, it's me,” they yawned. “Hm? It's dark out? Damn…I must've fallen asleep,” they muttered, rubbing their eyes.
“Y-y-you – why are you here?!” she squawked.
“Huh? Oh, I'm here for our practice. Or, I guess –” they cut off, shooting a look at the lack of light outside. “I was here for our practice.”
Sudden shame coursed through Poppy as she realized that Y.N. must've been waiting all this time for her to wake up, only for her lazy, useless self to keep them waiting until the sun set. “Why didn't you wake me up?”
They shrugged. “You looked like you needed it.”
What? “That's, um, very kind of you,” Poppy said, feeling slightly confused. Sleep, over practicing? But she could sleep any day of the week! “B-but I'd be okay if you had. Isn't the practice more important?”
Y.N. stood up from the couch, stretching their arms out above them. “Yeah, but it's only one day,” they said. “We can make up for it by working harder later.”
“I guess so, but…” she trailed off, still feeling guilty.
Y.N. didn't say anything to that, face unreadable in the darkness. Poppy felt horrible. They had been so accommodating to her, and this was how she repaid them? She was supposed to be the more experienced neighbor, the caretaker of the group – and look at her now. She wasn't brave, wasn't confident, wasn't a good singer. Why did she even try?
She walked Y.N. over to the door as the two of them basked in silence, crickets somehow only emphasizing how awkward she was as she held open the door for them. She half expected them to just walk out without a word, and she wouldn't blame them for that either, but surprisingly, they turned back.
“Hey, Poppy?”
She jumped a little, not expecting to be acknowledged. “Y-yes? What is it, dear?”
“Be honest. Do you actually want to star in this play?”
She blinked. That was an interesting question – one that she thought they would already know the answer to. “Of course I do,” she said.
Y.N. shook their head. “I’m not talking about what you think Sally wants, or what your friends want, or even what I want,” they clarified. “What do you want?”
What did she want? That was pretty simple, right? She wanted to do good in this play so Sally would be proud of her, and believe in her…oh, wait. Um, that wouldn't work. She didn't want the neighbors to think that she had let them down and – hold on, no, she couldn't think about the neighbors either. W-well! She also wanted to prove to Y.N. that their efforts paid off…ah! Gosh! She couldn't think of anything else!
Why did she want to do this play? Honestly, she didn't. She had been saying it from the very start. She was always trying to get Y.N. to let her go, telling Sally that she wasn't good enough – only, nobody seemed to want to listen to her. But that was just how it was, right? She never knew what was best for herself, but Sally did, so she just followed wherever Sally led. That was just how her world worked.
Some days, she wished she could be more like Sally. Someone strong. Someone tough. Someone like Y.N., who could return to a person's house again and again to help them even when they don't make any progress at all. But she wasn't like that. She was the kind of person to get scared of her own shadow, the person to quit at the drop of a hat, the person who had to rely on others for even the smallest, most inconsequential things.
She desperately wanted to be strong. Every day, she watched Sally and wished she could gain even a fraction of her brilliance. And right now, she wished she was the kind of person with the guts to tell Y.N. – I don't. I don't want to be a part of this play.
But she wasn't that kind of person. So instead, she plastered a smile on her face and lied through her teeth.
“I want to do this.”
And she knew she was truly weak, because she felt happy when Y.N. gave her a relieved smile at her response. She had said the right thing. She was making other people happy. So, why did she also feel so…pathetic?
“I’m glad,” Y.N. said. “I'll be back tomorrow, then. I know you can do this, Poppy. Don't worry – I'll do anything to make sure you succeed.”
Backlit by the shining moonlight and eyes brimming with determination, they really looked like they believed it. They looked like they would go to the ends of the earth and back, just for her. And she really, really knew she should be grateful, but deep down, she didn't feel grateful at all.
“O…okay,” she said, at a loss for words. “Thanks…”
They nodded and left, and she absentmindedly shut the door behind them. It was dark. She didn't know what to do.
If only she were someone else, she thought bitterly. If only she were Sally.
***
A knock on the door startled her from a decidedly un-restful slumber. She blinked her eyes open, somehow more tired than she was before she fell asleep contemplating all of her life choices. Oh. Maybe that was why?
Another knock this time startled her into almost falling down the stairs. Who was it? It was just dawn, so it couldn't be Y.N…could it? Or did they decide to start ramping up the hours after yesterday?
With a vague feeling of dread, she opened the door. “Good morning. you're here early…”
“Well, hello hello there to you too, Poppy!” a boisterous voice called out. She rubbed her eyes blearily to see Howdy standing in front of her.
“Wait – Howdy? Why are you here?”
“Why, to give you your weekly groceries, of course! Don't tell me you forgot,” he chuckled. “Were you expecting someone? Sally, perhaps?”
“Ah, no,” she said, embarrassed. “I actually haven't spoken to Sally in a couple of days…”
His jaw dropped at that, and if he didn't have four arms he would've certainly dropped her groceries too. She jumped back in fright. “Really?” he said incredulously. “I thought she was giving you private lessons on the side since I didn't see you at our regular ones!”
“Oh, no!” she said, aghast. As if Sally would waste time to privately train her! “No, actually, Y.N. is the one training me to sing.”
“Hmm, I see,” Howdy hummed. “Well, I'd say you're in pretty good hands then, ain't ya? Now Y.N. ain't the funniest fella on the block, but if there's one thing I can tell they are, it's dedicated!”
Poppy laughed softly, nodding her head. That was the perfect word to describe them…maybe even too perfect. She had never met anyone so, um… invested , apart from Sally herself.
“They aren't pushing you too hard, are they?” he said, resting his lone unoccupied hand against his chin.
“W-what?” she startled. “No, of course not!”
He blew out a sigh of relief. “Phew! Thank goodness for them. I was gonna say, Sally would have their teeth if she caught them mistreating you!”
She would?! Poppy paled. Ah, poor Y.N.! She would have to work even harder now to make sure they didn't catch any fire!
“Now, here's your groceries for the week!” Howdy said cheerily, handing them all over to her. She stumbled, barely managing to balance them all in her arms. “And no need to pay. It's on the house!”
“R-really?” she said. “You came all this way, though.”
He shook his head. “I'm sure you're working hard enough as is, Ms. Lead Role!” he winked.
She looked down guiltily. He didn't know about all her failures…it was like the only thing she could do was leech on other people's kindness. “No, no, I insist,” she said. Please, Howdy, just let her do this one thing!
He crossed his arms, contemplating. “Hmm, well,” he thought. “Actually! I just remembered that Julie is hosting a pre-play party in a few days. She'll probably want some thematic treats for that. Why don't you help her bake some?”
She immediately perked up in relief. “Ah, that's perfect! Yes, I'll do that right away! Thank you so much!”
She rushed to put the groceries away in the kitchen, ecstatic that she could finally do something that she knew she wouldn't mess up. She heard Howdy chuckle fondly from behind her.
“Alrighty! I won't hold you up any longer, then. See you in a few days!”
She waved at him happily as he left, wondering distantly why he was going to see her again so soon. Was she forgetting something?
Well, probably, but right now she had to focus on the task at hand: baking some treats for Julie. Ah, it felt nice to be useful again for once! The party was going to be that sort of “scary” theme, so maybe she should do something fitting, like spiders, or witches, or ooo, maybe even ghosts…
***
She wasn't answering the door again.
You sighed, glaring at the doorknob. Were you really going to waltz in without permission – again? Really?
Well. You had already done it once…and she didn't seem to mind then. Maybe she had just lost track of time! That was likely the case. You would need to remind her that you two needed to step up your game if she planned to be ready in a few days.
Mind made up, you opened the door. “Good after…noon…?”
Immediately, your ears picked up something you never thought would be coming from her house.
Singing.
Someone was singing the words to the song Sally had composed for Green, which meant it had to be Poppy, right? But how? She couldn't even say anything for the dozens of hours that she had spent practicing!
You walked over to the kitchen, peering around the corner to make sure you weren't hallucinating. No, that was definitely Poppy. She was whisking something in a bowl, bouncing her head to an invisible beat with her eyes shut.
“And even though they say not to, I still think I might loooove you…”
You rubbed your eyes in disbelief. The high note…she had hit the high note! Were you still dreaming?
Even with all your bluster and talk, deep down, you were deathly afraid that you wouldn't be able to train her in time, and she would have to go up to Sally underprepared and unconfident and have to humiliate herself in her greatest passion.
But she wasn't underprepared. She was – she was a star! An absolute natural! And you shouldn't have worried at all, because all along –
“I knew you could sing!”
Poppy screeched at the top of her lungs, jumping nearly to the roof and dropping her bowl of batter all over the ground. You stared at her blankly, registering what had just happened. Wait. Maybe you shouldn't have just exclaimed that so suddenly during a moment she thought she was alone, because you had absolutely crept up on her, and you had also basically let yourself into her home uninvited…
Shit.
“Y.N.! I am so –”
“I am so sorry!” you cried, bowing into a full 90 degree angle. “I didn't mean to frighten you, let me help clean up!”
“No, wait, dear, I'm the one who's sorry,” she said, practically prying you off the ground from where you had grabbed a wad of paper towels and were trying to soak up the mess. “I completely lost track of time, again! And I got batter all over you,” she added, horrified.
You looked down at yourself. Huh? Wiping a hand down your now sticky button down, you stared at your batter covered hand in confusion. You hadn't even noticed that…
“It's okay,” you said. It was your fault, after all, and you could always buy new clothes – these ones weren't expensive anyhow. You looked up at her again and jumped to see her also covered in batter. “Um, you got a little on yourself, too.”
“I-I did?” she squawked. “Oh, goodness, what a mess!”
The two of you stood there, in complete silence, surrounded by batter on the floor, all over the counter, in Poppy's beautiful feathers and your clothes and even your goddamn hair. Feeling embarrassed, guilty, and the most hopeful you had felt ever since you moved here, you suddenly started laughing. Hard.
“Y.N.? What's funny?”
“It’s just,” you laughed. “There’s dough everywhere. How much – how many things were you making?”
A blush bloomed over Poppy's face. “Maybe I went a little…overboard.”
You doubled over, clutching your stomach as you gasped for air. You didn't even know why you were laughing, but for some reason, the whole situation was funny. Here you were, trying to teach an eight foot bird who you hardly knew how to sing, when you didn't even know how to do so yourself. And now you two were standing in an absolute mess, right when you realized that the eight foot bird you were teaching knew how to sing all along. What an absolute joke!
“Dear, are you okay?”
“I'm fine,” you said, the final waves of laughter petering out. You stood up and clapped a sticky hand on Poppy's shoulder, making her jump. “Let's get this cleaned up.”
“You really don't need to – I can –”
“Nope, I'm helping, whether you like it or not,” you said, already on the ground and back to picking up the wet paper towels that were now completely soaked through. “Where's your mop?”
***
Oh, god! She had really messed up now!
What in the world had she done? She had completely forgotten about practice, spilled raw batter all over Y.N., and what's more, she might've made them go completely insane!
She eyed them nervously from where she was wiping the counter, watching them mop with a smile on their face. Why were they so happy? Why did they laugh so terrifyingly? Were they crazy? Did the raw egg from the batter turn them into a supervillain? D-did they get salmonella?!
“I didn't know you could–”
“Y.N., I'm really –”
They both paused. Oh, dear, now she was interrupting them too! “You can go,” she stammered.
“Oh, um, sure,” they said. “I was just going to say, I didn't know you could sing.”
“Sing?” Poppy asked, worried. When was she singing? Was Y.N. hearing things? “You mean, during our lessons?” She wouldn't exactly call that singing . More like…attempting, at best.
“No, I mean just now. You were singing to yourself while baking,” they explained, face turned to the ground while scrubbing the floor.
“I was?” she said. She hadn't even noticed! The song must've been subconsciously stuck in her head after practicing all night.
Wait, wait, wait! What did Y.N. think about that? She tilted her head to try to get a peek at their expression, but since they were looking at the ground and were shorter than her, she couldn't tell what they thought. They were probably mad, weren't they? They had spent so long trying to teach her, only for her to pull out the “haha, I actually knew how to do it all along!” card. Not that she was trying to hide anything, or that Y.N. was a bad teacher, but it sure looked that way! Oh no, what if they decide that she already knew what she was doing and left to let her fend for herself? She would be – not to be crude – but she would be unbelievably screwed!
“I'm so sorry for that too, I just –”
“Why are you apologizing?”
Y.N. set the mop gently in the corner of the room, whipping around to finally face her. They were absolutely beaming. “This is great news!” they said. “I was almost thinking that we would miss the week’s end, er, not that I didn’t have faith in you, of course, but you know how it is with deadlines. And since you already know how to sing, I don’t have to teach you any of the basics!”
They slammed their hands on the kitchen island in excitement, making her step back in barely contained fear. “So…you’re not mad at me?” she asked, not quite understanding. “Even though I’ve done so horrible in all of our practices?”
“No! No, I’m not mad at all,” they said. “I mean, I am confused, but certainly not mad. At least this lets me know that we need to go about this a different way.”
They paced around the room, humming to themselves. “Why don’t you try singing that song again?” they asked.
“Right now?” she said, looking around the kitchen in confusion.
They nodded, leaning on the counter and looking up at her expectantly.
She took a breath, trying to think about what she had done before. It had come so naturally then, the words just spilling out of her mouth without even thinking, the tones and lilts already on her tongue before she could even consciously form them. So…why wasn’t it happening now, when it mattered the most?
She glanced down at Y.N., who was still there, looking at her and – oh, goodness. They probably thought she was a complete imbecile. They probably thought she could never do this play, not in a million years. They probably wished that they were anywhere else right now, not putting so much effort into mentoring a dumb, worthless bird who couldn’t even do something as easy as singing!
Before she knew it, she was opening her eyes to find herself crouching on the floor, gasping for breath. Y.N.’s hands were on her shoulders, shaking her gently. “Poppy! Poppy, look at me, are you okay?” they asked, brows pinched in worry.
“I can’t do it.”
Hot, frustrated tears slipped past her eyelids. She knew she could do it. She did do it! But it was all because she was so worthless, so fragile, so weak , that she couldn’t.
She looked at Y.N., expecting them to be disgusted, but instead, they looked like they just had a sudden epiphany. “It’s me, isn’t it?” they said.
“W-what?”
“It’s because of me that you can’t sing.”
“No,” she said, alarmed. “No, it’s not your fault, it’s mine.”
They shook their head. “If you could sing just fine alone, but can’t when I’m here, then it’s obvious that it’s because of –”
They suddenly groaned, dropping their head in their hands. “God, I’m so dense!” they laughed sardonically. “All along, your singing was just fine – you’re struggling because you have performance anxiety!”
She blinked. “Performance…anxiety…?”
“Yeah. You’re scared to perform in front of people, right?”
Just imagining it made chills run down her body. “Y-yes…” she said, embarrassed.
Y.N. smiled supportively. “It’s nothing to be ashamed about. I’m sure every performer has felt it at some point. Yes, even Sally,” they added, noticing her about to object. “What’s important is that we now know the issue. With enough hard work, I’m sure you’ll be able to overcome it.”
She nodded shallowly, not entirely sure still, but willing to give it a try.
“Now come on!” Y.N. smiled, offering her their hand. “Let’s get to practicing!”