The audition
I went to work and did sewing, mostly, for the next couple of days. I was getting a delightful assortment of pretty throw pillows for my room and I was really feeling a certain level of accomplishment, but I was getting bored and was anxious for school to start again. The decorator was in and out, and once I wandered over to see what was going on. The room had been painted in turquoise, pink, and white, a little bright for my tastes but I wasn't going to be living there and it was pretty. Deri pointed out where new furniture was going and showed me the rug, a blue and white rectangle that I really did like. "I bet it will be really nice," I said. She scowled at me.
"What would you have done?" she asked, a sneer in her voice.
"I was thinking like a bunk bed there, something big and interesting, where you could have Van for sleepovers, if you didn't want a window seat in that narrow nook, there's a great chair in the attic that could be recovered, and Grandpa Henry could have helped build an awesome desk/ bookcase assembly on the other end of the room. I know you're pretty much done playing with your dolls" (she wasn't, but she was also kind of embarrassed about that) "but there could be some shelving here where you could display a couple, then replace them later with whatever other interests you get into."
The decorator pressed her fingers to her temple, and I felt a little sorry for her. Deri looked crestfallen, looking around as I gestured, then got angry. "You should have said something!" I shrugged.
"You were the one who was all about having a professional decorator come in," I said cuttingly. "You didn't want to listen when I shot down your first ideas, and you expected me not only to do the work but also pay for it. Your loss." I turned and went back to my room.
I'd gotten some "candles" that collected light and used it to power the candles and I arranged them (hopefully) prettily on the vanity. I was really looking forward to the fall when it got cooler and I could light the real candles in the fireplace. I'd tried once in July but they put out a measurable amount of heat. I thought they were romantic and added to the ambience. But looking around, I thought that it did look a little impersonal. Maybe some kind of art on the walls? There was art up in the attic, but it was in its own locked, climate controlled room, the work of masters through the centuries. Not exactly what I wanted for my walls. I'd have to think about it. Meanwhile, on my next day off, (the next day, actually) I was going back to Mr Cal's for an audition for roles in our (very abridged) version of The Nutcracker. Miles had worked with me to develop an audition piece; he'd actually talked to one of the soloists in his company who'd been happy to give him some choreography from their version that he'd modified (Miles looked a lot like his dad and never lacked for female attention.) It was a little more difficult than what I was used to, but I wanted to stand out. Deri would be evaluated by one of the other teachers for her placement at the school at the same time. I chose the leotard I wanted to wear and tried on both pairs of Peterovs to see if I could get one more performance out of either one. My first pair felt a little more close to failure, but there was still some dancing left in them. Then I went outside for the rest of the afternoon; it was too nice to be cooped up indoors even with the window open. There hadn't been any more kidnappings and I was getting bored with the restrictions my parents had put on me. I thought about asking them to ease up a little.
At the cocktail hour, Mom and Dad sipped their drinks as they listened to Deri complain about her room and blame me somehow for not insisting on helping. Right. I rolled my eyes. Dad sighed. "I did get a call from the decorator," he said. "Deri, you had your chance to get what you wanted, and you agreed with the decorator's vision. You wanted something grown up, and that's what you got."
"But it's not fun!" she protested. Dad took a big gulp of his whiskey.
"Honey, what did you describe?" he asked me wearily.
"Bunk beds; the bottom one comes out into the room, while the top platform has the bed at right angles to the bottom one, accessed by a staircase rather than a ladder," I said. "The stairs could contain drawers, paint them white with color on the risers. Put padded panels at the head and the side on the wall, and she and her little friends can use it as a couch when there's not a sleepover. Some shelves with decorative corbels, a big desk unit with integrated bookshelves that could double as an area for her craft projects. There's a big overhead lighting fixture upstairs that has a big glass shade; she could have painted birds or something on it." I shrugged. "But I'm not a professional."
"Oh, shit," he muttered.
"That does sound fun," Mom said, a little wistfully. I shrugged again.
"She had her chance," I said briskly. "And Grandpa Henry had carved out some space in his schedule to help, but once he heard that you guys had hired a professional, he accepted another commission and he doesn't have the time." He'd described the piece, a bank of cabinets for a small luxury apartment that contained a Murphy bed as well as the closet, storage, bookshelves, and a desk. It was going to take a lot of time to do with all the small components. Deri produced a huge pout.
"She said that the furniture she was going to use was standard, not special order and could be returned," Dad said, and I rolled my eyes.
"You're kidding, right?" I said testily. "You're not really giving in on this, are you?"
"Honey, it does sound a lot more fun," Dad said.
"Gods, isn't anybody going to say no to her? Ever?" I asked incredulously. Deri smirked at me.
"The designer asked for just a couple of sketches," Dad said.
"No," I said immediately. "For one, I only had a general idea. And second, I can't understand why Deri gets so much indulgence. These changes are only creating more work for the designer, and it was set to be done this weekend. Built-ins mean a rise in the noise level, and school starts next week." Shit. Apparently my desire to rub Deri's nose in what I could have done has backfired in a bad way. Why does Karma seem to backslap only me?
"That's ok," Deri said eagerly. "She can work off that description."
"I'll talk to her tomorrow," Dad said, and I glared at him. "If she can work so that the noisy parts are done while you're at school, it should be doable. Lys, honey, we want both of you to be happy."
"What you're doing is creating a spoiled brat," I said hotly. "You guys should adult up and deal with the whining. She got what she wanted, she "won", in whatever game she thought she was playing. She should have to live with what she chose."
"Lys, you get what you want too," Mom said. "We just went shopping where you were allowed to select your wardrobe."
"In what universe is a sixteen year old getting to choose her own clothes an enormous indulgence? And I haven't changed my mind and demanded all sorts of changes. I haven't called up Uncle Steve and caused a ruckus."
"Wait, you went to Uncle Steve's?" Deri said, frowning again. "You're getting custom clothes?"
"A few pieces," Mom jumped in, eager to head off another tantrum. "Lys takes care of her clothes, unlike you, Deri. You're quite hard on your garments." Mom shot me a look for stirring up the hornet's nest. Well, tough.
"But I needed clothes for school," I said, frowning myself. "That's not the same thing as a makeover of a bedroom, which is entirely optional."
"Lys, dear," Mom said through gritted teeth.
"No. So there's what Deri needs, then what she wants and what I need are on the same level, apparently. Well, thank the gods that I did my room myself, because my wants are apparently nor to be indulged," I fumed. "You'd never have hired a decorator just for me."
"You're talented enough that we didn't have to," Dad tried to placate me, but he just riled up Deri some more.
"Lys, your wants are indulged plenty," Mom said. "You got earrings that you wanted, you take dance lessons, you keep your job even though your safety is more at risk."
"Oh, wow, I didn't think that a couple of pairs of semi-precious earrings were such an indulgence in a family worth a trillion dollars," I shot back. "And the dance lessons--Deri gets them too. And now you're saying that my work ethic is an indulgence?"
"Oh, my god," Dad muttered, massaging his forehead with both hands. "Lys, just.... this isn't the time. I'm very proud of your work ethic."
"Lysippe, this tirade isn't becoming," Mom said. "I expect better from you."
"Why don't you expect better conduct from Deri, then? But the baby can throw all the temper tantrums she wants. Nice double standard," I sniped. Then I got up and stalked out. (It really wasn't a flounce at all.) Alan, coming up from the kitchen, looked at me with a certain degree of compassion and reminded me that one of the doors to the outside was in the kitchen. I stomped down the hall, shoved some of the succulent roasted pork loin in a bread roll, put a handful of baby carrots in a napkin, and exited, going into the woods to the folly that the original owners had installed. Over time, the columns had tumbled, making it picturesque as hell. Nobody visited it much because that's all there was to the area, which was perfect for my (fully justified) sulk.
I sat on a column stump and ate, listening to the insects hum and buzz, and calmed down. There's nothing like a late summer day, twilight creeping up, the air warm and soft, and solitude to make me feel better. The only time of year I really liked better was mid-autumn, when all the trees were changing colors and the afternoon light was warm and thick, like honey. But after I'd calmed down some, I brushed the crumbs off and wandered off, ending up in the gazebo, remembering when I came here for a picnic with Aunt Amy. Maybe I should call her. I missed our lunches. I sat there watching ducks on the pond. I loved the wildlife on the estate. I heard footsteps on the stairs and looked over to see my cousin Iris, coming over with a water bottle and a reader.
"Hey, Lys," she said, coming over for a hug. "How's your summer been going?"
"Overall, pretty good," I said.
"Miles told me about your job. That sounds fun."
"For the most part, but I'm looking forward to school starting. How's your summer been?"
"Busy, I was interning at Valkyrie with Aslyn. It's really interesting, but I'm also looking forward to going back to school. I'll be living on campus this year." Her pretty face, a daintier version of Miles and their dad, brightened up.
"Lucky," I muttered, and when she prompted me, spilled about Deri.
"Ugh," Iris said with distaste. "I hate rich princess types. But your room sounds cool. Can I come by sometime to see it?"
"Yeah, of course." And we chatted a bit. Then I heard my dad shouting my name and made a face. She patted my shoulder.
"Courage," she said, standing up with me and giving me a quick hug. I slogged off to meet my father.
He studied me as I came up to him. "Did you get some dinner?" I nodded. He sighed. "Lys, honey, right now things are a little difficult. Your mom is going off next week for a couple of weeks for her work at the museum, and I'm going to be having some late nights at the office getting a merger ready. Next month I've got to go to New Babylon for the paperwork, the signing, all that. There's also some league business for your mom; the UN has asked Wonder Woman to be a UNESCO Special Ambassador promoting culture and development in the service of peace, respect and human dignity. And we've got some movement on the Avengers team, some retirements coming up and slots on the team to fill. It's just easier right now to let Deri have her way on this particular thing."
"Except that it's not just this one thing. She's been pulling this crap steady since she got back from camp. I don't know what happened there, but it sure wasn't improving for her. And I'm not getting cut the same slack. Or is Mom up confronting Deri?" Dad was silent. "I don't even know why you bothered to have two kids. It's obvious that Deri's your favorite. I don't know even what I did."
"Lysippe, listen to me. We love you very much. You're a different person from your sister, quieter, more introspective. I respect that and I think that you're mature for your age. But I also expect more of you because you're older. Look, when I get back next month--"
"There'll be something else," I said dully. "There's always something else." We reached the house and I went inside and up the stairs to my room. I poked around, straightening things, making sure that the dance clothes I wanted to wear were clean and ready. Since they were new, yeah. My door opened and Deri came in.
"Knock first, and get out," I snapped.
"Can I see your earrings?" she asked, and rather than waste my breath on a negative, pulled a Nerf water pistol out of my bookcase and shot her a few times. She sucked in her breath in disbelief at the big spots of water on her midsection.
"Get out. Don't come in without knocking and receiving express permission," I said, and when I pulled the slide back again, she left without an argument.
That made me feel a little better.
The next morning I dressed in my audition outfit, packed my bag, and had a light breakfast. Mom came in as I was heading out. "Where are you going, Lys?" she asked. "I thought we were going to the studio together."
"I'm going to work afterward," I said coolly. "I got a call last night asking me to cover Candace's shift, she's got a family emergency." She stood there a moment.
"Well, good luck on your audition, dear," she said, sounding slightly defeated. "I'll see you at the studio." I turned away and heard her shouting for Deri.
"So what's up, Lys?" AI Tony asked as we started off down the driveway. "You seem down, but you were really looking forward to the audition." Sometimes it feels like the AI unit of my pod is the only one really interested in me, and wasn't that just pathetic. I told him about the upset last night.
"And school starts next week. It's still going to be hard, even if I have a new nickname, starting over, finding friends. What if Anna is as crap as Lys is?" The little AI figure pinched the bridge of his nose.
"Look, Lys, you're not crap. You're laboring under some handicaps, is all," he said, and proceeded to give me a very vigorous pep talk. I was glad to pull up to the studio to halt it, actually. "Can't wait to hear how you do," he said bracingly, giving me a thumbs up as the door lifted. I exited hastily and the pod rolled away. I dropped my bag in the changing room and went to the studio to warm up and stretch.
"Good, glad you're prompt, Lys," Mr Cal said as he came in with a pad that would record the audition. "So what music would you like to dance to?"
"Dance of the Sugar Plum Fairy," I said with a smile, and he pulled up the audio file I'd sent and sat back. I wasn't going to be so bold, but Miles said why not go for it, make it clear what I wanted, so I did. He had some notes and corrections for me, and I ran through it again, incorporating his notes as best as I could, and he nodded thoughtfully when I finished.
"Nice work, Lys," he said, and I dropped a little curtsy and went to change. I could hear faint music in one of the other studios as I left. I felt a lot better after the performance and got to work early. I spent the time poking around, hoping to find some fabric I liked for the bed curtains, but I was coming up empty. No rush, though, it was still summer and too hot to be enclosing myself in the bed nook.