Between the Lines

Cynthia removed the makeup from her face with long sweeps of her cleansing wipes. The cool air of the room was a balm to her skin as she removed the layers of the day. “There we go,” she muttered to herself just to hear a voice in the empty room of her master bathroom. “One long day down; about one hundred more to go.”

She shrugged off her plush bathrobe, a luxurious deep emerald green that mirrored her character’s iconic hue, letting it pool at her feet. The robe contrasted beautifully against her rich brown skin and reminded her of the nights spent stepping out of Elphaba’s world. Barefoot, she stepped into her glass shower enclosure, the brass fixtures gleaming in the warm light.

As the first droplets of water hit her shoulders, Cynthia exhaled, closing her eyes. The rainfall showerhead released a steady cascade of warm water, the temperature just shy of scalding, washing away the day’s tension. The soft sound of water pattering against the glass was rhythmic, almost meditative. She let her thoughts drift back over the events of the day and smiled faintly. It had been a good day, busy but fulfilling.

She had spent most of it preparing for the Golden Globes: sitting through hours of fittings for a gown that hugged her frame like a second skin, its black and white fabric and boxy skirt catching the light with every turn. Fielding interviews, selecting jewelry that would enhance but not overshadow her look, and sifting through scripts for potential producing and acting projects had filled the rest of her schedule.

She put in mind to remind her assistant, nutritionist, and trainer to slowly transition her workout schedule and routine towards what it once was. She had changed it while filming the movie, Wicked , and during the press run because there were only so many hours in a day.

The work that she put into playing Elphaba for the Wicked film was demanding. And as much as she would miss the character, she was glad the needs for the character no longer needed to be met. She could now focus on her own routine again instead of the routine needed for the green witch.

As she lathered her skin with a vanilla-scented body wash, she chuckled softly at the memory of her castmates’ faces lighting up during the Globes ceremony. The applause, the shared laughter, the way peers in the industry had embraced their work—it was overwhelming in the best way. Although leaving with only one award had been a little disappointing, the camaraderie and celebration had been worth more than gold statues.

Stepping out of the shower, she grabbed a fluffy white towel from the heated rack and wrapped it around herself. The plushness of the fabric was like a gentle hug. She padded over to the vanity, massaging a light layer of hydrating cream into her skin, the subtle scent of jasmine adding a soothing touch. Her bald head glistened under the light as she moisturized it with practiced hands.

Sliding on a loose, oversized t-shirt in a soft gray that hung just above her mid-thigh, paired with simple black briefs, she finally allowed herself to relax. The t-shirt, one of her favorite worn-in pieces, had been a gift from a friend and carried a faint, comforting scent of familiarity.

She made her way to her bed and sighed happily as she sank into the mattress. The city lights filtered through the sheer curtains and cast faint patterns across the room.

As was her nightly routine, Cynthia grabbed her phone from the nightstand, its weight a familiar comfort in her hand. She unlocked the screen and began scrolling through her messages. Her lips curled into a soft smile when she saw one from Ariana Grande, her current co-star and frequent partner during the relentless press run.

“Oh my God, I’m so embarrassed!” the message read, punctuated by a sweat-drop emoji.

Cynthia chuckled softly, shaking her head. The emoji was a telltale sign that this wasn’t a crisis. Ariana only messaged without them when something was serious. She leaned back against the cool headboard, fingers typing quickly. “What happened?” she replied.

A response came almost instantly. “There are viral videos of me at the Golden Globes going around looking for you like a lost puppy,” followed by two attached clips.

Cynthia opened the videos, her smile widening as she watched. The first clip showed Ariana weaving through a crowd, craning her neck with wide eyes as if searching for a beacon. In the second, someone had edited dramatic music over her frantic movements, zooming in on her expression as she mouthed what appeared to be Cynthia’s name.

Her shoulders shook with quiet laughter. Ariana’s next message popped up before she could type a reply. “Why am I like this?”

Cynthia’s thumbs moved swiftly over the keyboard. “It’s all right,” she sent back, a fond smile on her face. “It’s cute. Everyone thinks so.”

This wasn’t the worst thing Cynthia had seen go viral. In fact, it was fairly tame, and she found herself entertained by the harmless humor of it all. Her phone buzzed again.

“I have to admit,” Ariana’s message read. “I did giggle a bit at this one.” She attached a link to another video.

Cynthia opened it, laughing aloud this time. The clip featured two young boys aggressively fighting over a chair with a caption that read: “Ariana getting to the seat next to Cynthia before Lena could sit down.”

Cynthia shook her head, unable to suppress her grin. She typed back. “But I’m the one who sat in Lena’s chair.”

Ariana’s response was immediate. “I know. It doesn’t make sense. But it’s funny.”

Cynthia smiled, her laughter trailing off into a sigh as she prepared to set her phone down and call it a night. But just as she placed the phone on the nightstand, it buzzed again.

“I’m sorry Lena’s getting dragged into it, though.”

Her brows furrowed as she picked up the phone again. “What do you mean?” she replied.

She was sent the link to another video of a young woman gossiping about how Lena was bitter towards Ariana and Cynthia’s relationship. Cynthia couldn’t help but to take a scroll through the comments where she saw many people eating the narrative up and mocking her girlfriend. Cynthia hurriedly exited the app. She had learned that it was best to just close the socials when she saw something that made her want to respond.

Okay…well…that was less funny.

Cynthia stared at the blank screen of her phone, her thoughts swirling. She wondered if Lena had seen the theories yet.

Probably.

Biting her lip, she navigated to Lena’s Instagram, her thumb hovering for a moment before diving in. She tapped through the stories, scrolling back to the most recent posts. None of the ones the gossiping young woman had mentioned were still up. Of course not. Stories disappear after twenty-four hours. Cynthia swiped through the newer ones, but they seemed harmless: snapshots of a production meeting, a quick clip of Lena’s favorite coffee shop, and a repost of someone praising her work. Nothing strange.

And then, like a wave crashing over her, she felt utterly ridiculous.

Her fingers flew across the screen, sending a message to Ariana. “This is insane. I’m scouring through my own girlfriend’s social media to see if the rumors about how she’s feeling are true. I need to log off.”

Ariana’s response came almost immediately: a crying-laughing emoji.

Cynthia let out a chuckle, shaking her head as she placed the phone beside her on the bed. She was glad to have someone to share these absurd moments with—someone who understood the craziness of it all. But the humor of the situation didn’t fully erase her unease.

She didn’t want Lena to be hurt by a promotional campaign. Lena hadn’t said anything to her. But she hadn’t really checked in with her about this either. She hadn’t felt that she needed to. Public interest in the relationship she had with her co-star was starting to reach a peak, and neither of them had ever dealt with anything like this before. So maybe it was time to talk about it.

She received another message from Ariana: “I’m sorry about all of this.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Cynthia replied, though her stomach was a little bit in knots. “People are going to have their opinions. We just have to ride it out.”

She got her chance to broach the subject with her girlfriend when Lena arrived about half an hour later from a meeting she was having regarding the production of a new comedy show. Cynthia perked up as Lena entered their bedroom, the faint scent of sandalwood and cedar clinging to her from the day. Lena looked as effortlessly stylish as ever, dressed in a tailored androgynous suit in a rich charcoal gray that emphasized her sharp features. The subtle shimmer of a silver tie clip caught the low bedroom light as she loosened her tie with practiced ease.

“Babe,” Cynthia called softly, watching as Lena crossed the room.

“Yeah?” Lena glanced over her shoulder, her expression warm but tired. She sat down on the other side of the bed, letting out a small sigh as she slid off her polished oxford shoes. One hand reached out instinctively, resting on Cynthia’s bare thigh, her thumb stroking slow, soothing circles against her skin.

Cynthia took Lena’s hand in hers, threading their fingers together and turning to face her fully. She shifted to sit up straighter, her nerves buzzing under her calm exterior.

“Have you seen the stuff online?” Cynthia asked carefully.

Lena raised a brow, her movements pausing as she looked at Cynthia curiously. “What stuff?”

“People shipping me and Ari and saying you don’t like it.”

Lena rolled her eyes, her expression flat as she pulled her hand away to finish loosening her tie with both hands. The silver fabric caught the faint glow of the bedside lamp. “Yeah,” she said with a sigh. “I’ve seen it. People just pulling shit out of their asses.”

“Does it bother you?” Cynthia asked carefully, watching Lena’s face for any flicker of emotion she might be trying to hide.

“I’m gonna be honest,” Lena said, her tone steady but measured.

“Please,” Cynthia interjected quickly, leaning forward.

Lena paused for a moment, as if weighing her words. “It didn’t bother me,” she admitted finally. “But people projecting shit onto me? That bothers me a little. And now I can’t help but get a little annoyed when you and her are all over each other because I know I’m gonna get some bullshit coming my way.”

Cynthia winced, the guilt settling heavily in her chest. “I’m sorry,” she said, her voice thick with sincerity. She shifted closer, closing the small distance between them. Her hand came up to Lena’s shoulder, her fingers kneading gently into the tension she could feel there. “I know it’s not fair. But you know nothing’s going on, right? It’s just a bunch of people online letting their imaginations run wild. Ari’s just…a touchy person. She’s like that with everyone.”

Lena sighed, her posture softening under Cynthia’s touch. “I know,” she said, her tone quieter now. “I’m not worried about that.”

Cynthia smiled, glad to hear it. “It’ll all blow over once the press run ends.”

Lena snorted lightly, her lips quirking into a half-smile. “A press run that’s gonna last a whole ‘nother year.”

Cynthia groaned sympathetically and let her chin fall onto Lena’s shoulder. “I know. But we’ll get through it.” She was silent as she considered. She was hesitant to speak her next words, but she wanted to show Lena that she respected her feelings. “Maybe I can tell Ari to cool it a little with the touching.”

Lena shook her head, and Cynthia couldn’t help but to feel relieved. “Nah…” Lena said. “Don’t do that. Then people are gonna start overanalyzing how y’all are being awkward around each other or some shit and rumors are gonna start from that . Just…keep doing what you’re doing. Don’t let any outside talk change you. I know you’re just doing your job. I’m okay.”

The conviction in Lena’s voice made Cynthia smile. She met Lena’s eyes, warmth blooming in her chest.

Lena leaned forward, pressing a soft kiss to Cynthia’s lips. It was gentle but grounding, a reminder of the solid foundation they shared despite the noise outside.

“Now,” Lena said as she pulled back, her voice lighter. “I’m gonna get up and take a shower. You gonna wait up for me?”

Cynthia glanced at her phone, lighting up the screen to check the time. 12:24 a.m. The glowing numbers seemed to taunt her.

“Umm…” she began, her tone betraying her hesitation. “Yeah, sure.”

Lena gave her a knowing smirk as she stood, shrugging off her blazer and draping it neatly over the back of a chair. “You’re so full of shit. You’re gonna be knocked out when I come back.”

Cynthia laughed, unable to deny it. “Probably,” she said, lying back onto her pillow. “But I’ll try to stay up.”

Lena chuckled again, the sound warm and familiar, as she tapped Cynthia’s thigh before heading off to the bathroom.

Cynthia sighed contentedly and sank deeper into the plush mattress. Her schedule had been relentless lately, leaving little room for quality time with Lena. She realized it had been about a week since they’d been properly intimate, and guilt nudged at the edges of her mind. She made a mental note to carve out time for Lena—maybe on her birthday, which was coming up soon.

As she mentally rearranged her schedule, considering what commitments she could shift or cancel, her eyelids grew heavier. Her thoughts blurred as her body succumbed to the pull of sleep. Her breathing slowed, deepened, and just as Lena had predicted, she was fast asleep before the soft padding of her girlfriend’s footsteps returned to the quiet bedroom.

***

Cynthia managed to clear her schedule so that she could spend the evening with Lena after the National Board of Review gala. The night was exactly what they needed—a private dinner at an upscale restaurant followed by sparkling waters back at their hotel suite.

Later, as the city lights twinkled faintly beyond the window, they fell into each other’s arms. The world outside melted away as they shared stolen kisses and fevered touches. Clothes were shed in the dim light of the room, and whispers of affection filled the air. For a few hours, they rediscovered each other, a reconnection of hearts and bodies that left Cynthia feeling grounded and whole.

But their tranquility was short-lived. News alerts began rolling in, reports of wildfires breaking out across Los Angeles dominating their phones. Cynthia, sprawled across the bed with Lena beside her, frowned as she scrolled through the updates.

“This is insane,” Cynthia said, her voice tinged with concern as she scanned the worried messages from friends and colleagues.

“Yeah,” Lena agreed, her tone grim as she glanced at her own phone. She sighed and finally set it aside. “We should probably get some sleep, head back tomorrow, and see what the damage is.”

Cynthia nodded. “Okay,” she said softly, following suit and placing her phone on the nightstand.

The lights went out, and she closed her eyes, willing herself to drift off. But the peace of slumber was elusive. She tossed and turned, the weight of the news pressing against her chest.

Was it hot? She felt hot.

She pushed her half of the blanket off her body, seeking relief from the sudden heat prickling her skin.

Then, a faint vibration broke the silence. Her phone buzzed against the nightstand. Cynthia reached for it instinctively, her fingers fumbling in the dark. She was privately relieved she hadn’t remembered to set it to Do Not Disturb—it gave her an excuse to stay awake, to distract herself from the storm of thoughts swirling in her mind.

Cynthia smiled when she saw a message from Ariana waiting for her.

Hey, girl. You up? 😏’

Cynthia giggled quietly, the absurdity of the message pulling her out of her restless thoughts. “She’s so stupid,” she whispered to herself with a small shake of her head.

‘You did not seriously just send me a ‘you up’ text.’ She messaged back, following it with: ‘But, yes, I am.’ After a brief pause, she added, ‘The fires are keeping me up.’

Ariana’s response was almost instant. ‘Same. I’m worried about my friends and family in LA.’ Another message quickly followed. ‘And I’m just sad.’

Cynthia’s brow furrowed in concern. She hesitated for a moment before typing back. ‘Why?’

The indication that Ariana was typing appeared on the screen but disappeared just as quickly. It came back again. And disappeared. Cynthia watched it happen a third time before a message finally came through.

‘Come over?’

Cynthia glanced at the time on her phone: 1:17 a.m. Late-night outings had become a rarity for her. These days, she only ventured out for special occasions or work-related events. Otherwise, her downtime was sacred—an opportunity to recharge in the midst of her relentless schedule.

She turned her head to check on Lena, who was fast asleep beside her, her breathing soft and even.

The thought that she was up alone made her itch. It seemed Ariana was up alone as well.

‘What the hell,’ she thought.

‘Okay, sure. I just have to get dressed,’ she messaged back.

Ariana’s reply came with enthusiastic speed. ‘Yay! I’ll send a car. Half an hour?’

Cynthia sent back a thumbs-up emoji and sighed quietly.

She scribbled a quick sticky note for Lena— “Stepped out. Be back soon.” —and stuck it to the nightstand before heading to her closet to slip on a pair of black joggers, a loose white hoodie, and her favorite pair of sneakers. To combat the January chill, she grabbed a soft knit beanie and tugged it down snugly over her bald head. Large square-rimmed glasses completed the look.

***

“Happy birthday!”

The door to Ariana’s home opened to a burst of energy. Before Cynthia could even process what was happening, she was engulfed in a warm, tight hug. Ariana, dressed in cozy pink sweats, beamed up at her, holding a cupcake with a single lit candle balanced on top.

Cynthia blinked in surprise but quickly fell into the rhythm of Ariana’s enthusiasm. The cupcake was nudged towards her face, and she instinctively leaned down to blow out the candle.

Ariana clapped her hands together, her smile as bright as the candle had been. “Yay!” she cheered. She pushed the cupcake into Cynthia’s hand.

Cynthia laughed, the sweetness of the gesture warming her despite the chill of the night. “Thank you,” she said, unable to suppress a grin. “What is all this?”

Ariana grabbed her arm and gently tugged her into the living room, which was dimly lit with string lights and the faint glow of candles. “You didn’t think I was gonna let your birthday slide without a little celebration, did you?”

“And there’s something else~” Ariana sang, her voice teasing as she darted away with an exaggerated bounce in her step. She returned moments later holding a neatly wrapped gift box, her grin wide and mischievous.

“What’s this?” Cynthia asked, her brow arching with curiosity as she took the box. Gently, she removed the lid to reveal a sleek leather-bound journal and an elegant, brand-name rollerball pen nestled inside.

“I know you like to journal sometimes, so…” Ariana said, her tone suddenly softer, almost shy.

“Aw, thank you,” Cynthia said, her voice warm with genuine gratitude. She reached out and pulled Ariana into a tight hug. “I wasn’t expecting you to get me anything.”

“I know,” Ariana said, her words muffled by Cynthia’s shoulder. She pulled back with a small shrug. “I usually just take you out to dinner or something, but I don’t think I’ll have the chance this time.”

As they moved further inside, Cynthia glanced around while shrugging off her jacket. The space was cozy and inviting, with the faint scent of vanilla from lit candles. “Where’s Ethan?” she asked, scanning the room for Ariana’s boyfriend.

The dramatic roll of Ariana’s eyes was almost comical, but it made Cynthia pause. “Oh, that’s not a good look,” Cynthia said, her tone playful but tinged with curiosity.

“He’s pissing me the fuck off, Cynthia,” Ariana blurted, crossing her arms as she flopped onto the couch with a huff.

Cynthia’s brows knitted together in concern. “Why? What happened?” she asked, sitting down beside Ariana and taking her hand gently to coax her into opening up.

“He has short man issues, I don’t fucking know,” Ariana grumbled, her tone half-frustrated, half-defeated.

Cynthia fought the urge to laugh, pressing her lips together as she urged, “Explain.”

Ariana shifted, eventually lying down with her head in Cynthia’s lap, their hands naturally intertwining as if seeking comfort. Cynthia absentmindedly stroked her fingers over Ariana’s knuckles while the younger woman spoke.

“He had FOMO from missing the Golden Globes,” Ariana began, her voice taking on a venting rhythm. “So he was really pestering me to take him to the National Board of Review Gala. I decided to go with him because I figured, what the hell—this might help take some of the heat off of you and Lena.”

Cynthia nodded, her expression calm and encouraging as she listened.

“So we did that,” Ariana continued. “But then we came back home, and he still found something to be upset about. I think he’s really letting all of the online noise get to him.” She let out an exasperated sigh and fidgeted with Cynthia’s hand, her fingers idly tracing over the older woman’s nails.

Cynthia let her finish before offering her perspective. “First of all,” she said, her voice steady but reassuring, “you don’t have to worry about me and Lena. We’re fine. And Ethan needs to get his shit together.” She was completely fine with standing firmly on Ariana’s side even though she didn’t have both perspectives. That’s what female friends were for. “He knew what he was getting into when he started dating you,” she continued.

“That’s just it. I don’t think he really did,” Ariana responded. “I don’t think he realized how much of my life has to be planned out, scheduled, and sanitized. Even right down to our relationship.”

“Hmm,” Cynthia murmured in acknowledgment, her voice calm and grounding. She used her free hand to gently stroke a stray piece of Ariana’s hair away from her forehead, her touch reassuring.

“You and Lena match so well,” Ariana said, her tone softening. “She’s completely fine keeping your relationship private and just supporting you from the sidelines.”

Cynthia smirked. “Well, that’s because she’s not a grubby, spotlight-hungry actor.” She grinned as Ariana laughed just as she’d intended. “I mean, she acts, but she likes producing more. So our careers are just…very compatible.”

“Well, there we have it then. I need to date behind-the-scenes,” Ariana quipped, a teasing edge to her voice.

“There you go.”

“Or we could give our fans what they want,” Ariana said, her lips curving into a playful smile, “and I could date you .”

Cynthia chuckled, shaking her head at the younger woman’s audacity. “You lowkey love that we’re being shipped, don’t you?”

Ariana grinned, unabashed. “I stayed up for four hours last night scrolling through posts of people being delusional over us,” she admitted, her tone equal parts amused and sheepish.

Cynthia laughed heartily, the sound filling the cozy room. “Maybe that’s what had Ethan so mad,” she said.

A barely-contained laugh burst from between Ariana’s pressed lips. “Maybe,” she said. “He really is bothered by it, you know.”

“What, you and me?!” Cynthia asked, her brows shooting up in disbelief.

“Yeah,” Ariana said, sitting up and settling back against the couch. “My team was talking about how I get more positive reception when I’m with you than when I’m with him. He stormed out like a little kid.”

“Oh, shit,” Cynthia said, leaning forward slightly. “Should we tone it down then? I don’t want to cause any problems for you.”

“Tone what down?” Ariana asked. “We’re just acting like normal people! I’m not gonna start overthinking every action I take with you just to make other people comfortable. Hell no.” She suddenly turned toward Cynthia. A devilish smirk lifted her lips. “I was actually thinking we should play into it.”

“Oh, no,” Cynthia said, narrowing her eyes but unable to suppress her own amused smirk. “What trouble are you trying to get us into, Ari?”

“No, listen,” Ariana said, her tone brimming with excitement as she leaned closer. “It would be so fun! There are no downsides. Our fans would love it. It would be great Wicked promo. Hmm. Elphie?” She playfully poked Cynthia’s cheek, which earned her a lighthearted swipe in return. Ariana grinned, undeterred. “We all win. Well… just get Lena’s permission first. And then we all win.” She finished her pitch with a wide, confident smile.

Cynthia shook her head, not in refusal but in a mix of amusement and disbelief. The fact that she was actually considering Ariana’s wild idea made her laugh internally.

It wasn’t as if they’d need to do anything drastic. The smallest, most innocent touch between them already had fans concocting elaborate fantasies. And Lena had already told her to keep doing what she was doing and not overthink it…

“What the hell,” Cynthia said finally, her voice tinged with amusement as she decided to lean into the chaos. “Sure.”

Ariana’s face lit up like a child on Christmas morning. She squealed, bouncing up and down on her knees like an excited puppy, before grabbing her phone. “I’m going to let my team know the angle!” she announced.

“Oh, my God,” Cynthia said with a chuckle. “Is it that serious?”

“It is!” Ariana exclaimed, already typing away furiously. Her fingers flew across the screen with an energy that bordered on manic.

Cynthia leaned back on the couch, watching Ariana with a mixture of amusement and trepidation. “I’m a little scared now,” she admitted, arching a brow. “We’re not making any grand announcements, right? We’re not saying we’re dating or anything like that. We’re just… doing as we normally do. Being a little coy, a little flirty—and that’s it.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Ariana replied, barely glancing up from her phone. “Of course. It’ll be fine. I promise.” Her voice was casual, but the glimmer of mischief in her eyes told Cynthia she was already scheming something bigger than she was letting on.

‘ Well… this should be interesting ,’ Cynthia thought, chewing the inside of her cheek as she watched Ariana hit “send” with the flourish of someone who had just set a plan in motion. She wondered, briefly, if she should have given this whole thing more thought. But impulsiveness was part of her nature, and Ariana had a way of amplifying that side of her.

It was fun, intoxicating—and dangerous.

And Cynthia didn’t mind it one bit.