Teresa Marjory Spinks (feelup) wrote in cuaditchic, @ 2020-05-17 21:49:00 |
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15 May 2020 | Squealing Snitch Stepping from the front of the house to the small area backstage, Teresa greeted her Uncle Becket who’d summoned her from her socializing with Garrick Summerby. The older man looked annoyed by the news he was about to bestow. “What’s wrong?” Teresa asked having recognized the nod he’d given her from across the room. “Your sister has arrived…. early…. but she’s… you know.” “Oh god,” Teresa rolled her eyes and downed the rest of her martini. “Where is she?” “Greenroom, but probably shouldn’t engage her at the moment,” Becket Spinks offered as he took the empty glass from his niece. “Then why else did you call me back here?” Teresa asked unimpressed with his poor attempt to shelter her from the tornado that was Lisa Spinks. To be entirely honest the now-30-year-old was surprised the younger woman showed up at all let alone earlier than usual. She stepped into the small narrow greenroom to find the twenty-five year old was primping what looked to be mascara stained eyes. “You alright?” Teresa greeted. “Oh Merlin, of course, you’re back here to gloat,” Lisa expressed with a childish roll of her eyes. The woman refrained from facing Teresa choosing to make eye contact using the mirror. “What?” Teresa seemed thrown off by the accusation. “I’m just checking on you… What’s wrong?” “I’m fine. It’s fine… everything is fine.” “Did you and Wagtail get into it again?” “Urgh, no... I haven’t spoken to Myron for months. You’d know that if you kept in touch.” “Right…” Teresa resigned to sitting on the couch arm as she watched the pop star clean up her face. With Lisa’s back to her, Teresa noticed the half-empty bottle of firewhiskey next to the woman’s luggage. She glanced at her kid sister as Lisa began casting charms on her makeup bag that went to work applying various layers of female war paint. Teresa allowed the long silence between them without remorse. “I’m just tired, alright?” Lisa finally admitted with a disgruntled tone. “I just port keyed over in the middle of my America’s tour to be here. I’ve been on the road for the last twelve days straight. And I guess I’ve got the port-spins or something.” “If you really didn’t want to come you could have just said,” Teresa countered with an annoyed sigh. “Why are you being like that?” Lisa’s tone was less dramatic now that Teresa had taken the bait. “I’m here because you asked me to perform and now I’m the bitch because I’m a little tired?” “Dooon’t do that,” Teresa lulled her head back and then forward again as if to give her the forward motion to stand. “If you don’t want to perform Lisa - don’t. I never asked you to do that - you volunteered. And if you’re so tired, just go home for a few hours and come back later.” “Oh, right,” Lisa gawked, “And have people talk about how I didn’t come to my wannabe-famous sister’s 30th birthday party?” “Wow. Are we really going to do this again? Today? Right now?” Teresa asked with a stern tone not wanting to spiral into the same old argument about who understood fame the most. For whatever reason Teresa’s concession that Lisa won on the popularity front was never enough and to be quite honest she hated having to boost her famous kid sister up every bloody time they interacted. “Do what?” Lisa asked staring at her older sister through the mirror - still unable to face the woman face to face. “You know what?” Teresa threw up her hands. “I’m not doing this with you. Not today. You get every other day of the year, Lisa. But today… I’m taking this one. Either you cut this shit out and enjoy the party. Or you can wallow in self-pity about the life you dreamed of somewhere else. I’m not buying into the drama tonight.” “What is that supposed to mean?!” Lisa finally spun around. Her floating foundation and eyeliner moving out of the way. “You don’t know anything about my life, Teresa. You’ll never understand what I have to put up with!” “You’re right, and tonights not the night I’m going to spin in circles trying,” Teresa backed to the door. “Well, maybe I’ll just leave then,” Lisa tried to shoot back with a harsh tone realizing her attempt to get attention wasn’t working. “I’d like you to stay tonight. As my sister,” Teresa informed as she opened the door. “But if you feel safer coming or leaving as the pop-star that’s your choice.” There was a beat between them before the elder sister nodded and Lisa looked to her hands as they picked at her acrylic nails. Their lack of words was Teresa’s signal to close the door behind her. Close by Becket was standing with two glasses of scotch. “You alright?” their uncle asked. “Course,” Teresa answered before she threw back the entire first scotch. “It’s my fucking party and as usual Lisa’s going to cry if she wants to.” The man smirked and handed his niece the second scotch, “She sticking around?” “Probably,” the woman nodded. “She’ll likely hide in there all night until it’s convenient for her to show face. I’ll see if they can add a second green room for the other performers and get mum to check in on her.” “I can do that,” he rubbed the woman’s arm as she downed the second scotch. Pulling her into a sympathetic hug, “Get back to the fun stuff, yeah?” “Right,” Teresa forced a small smile as she moved back to the front of house. |