Chapter Text
September 15th, 2018.
Angela would never ever fall for a stupid text message scam. If she did, she'd be embarrassed for life and never hear the end of it, especially from a certain brother of hers.
Unless it was a text message from Vicki Kawaguchi, apparently.
In her defence, the message actually turned out to be Vicki. And she texted like her, anyway. However, Angela thinks of the idea of potentially being scammed because of how quickly she actually believed her, especially considering how famous she was now. Angela wasn't surprised when she heard she made it as a ballerina—She was determined from the start, and Angela liked that. (She wasn't really a fan of how she heard it through a news article over Vicki herself, as if she still had her number, but whatever.)
Angela isn't sure how she got her number. She doesn't ask when Vicki had asked to meet up with her. Hell, she doesn't ask why Vicki wants to meet up with her after so long. All Angela asks is for proof that it's her, and Vicki delivers it through a video specifically addressing Angela and describing the exact situation. She figures she can ask about it in person.
So, Angela agrees to meet up with her at a dessert parlour about an hour away next Sunday.
September 23rd, 2018.
Vicki is the same, in a way.
Her smile hasn't changed. She has the same bangs she's had since they were kids, with the only difference being that there are gaps through some strands of her where Angela can actually see her forehead, though her hair is significantly longer and is now tied into a bun. She's actually a bit taller than Angela last remembered, but not taller than Angela herself. Vicki still loves pink, it seems, because underneath her dark blue jacket is a somewhat frilly pink dress that reminds Angela of the tutu she used to always wear, even when they were playing baseball or basketball or whatever else they were playing that season. That calming demeanour of hers seems to have stuck through and through, too.
It's almost like they never stopped talking with each other.
Her laugh is the same, as well. Hearing her laugh whilst digging into the cake she ordered, Angela can clearly remember the exact same one she heard when they were in high school; maybe even as kids.
Oh, and that's another thing. Vicki still adores cake. Especially cheesecake.
But, Angela can obviously tell she's grown. She doesn't mean to keep linking back similarities, but maybe it's just easier to think about the stuff she's familiar with, rather than the idea of Vicki being a complete stranger.
“Is everything okay?” Vicki suddenly asks. “You've barely touched your milkshake.”
Angela takes a glance between Vicki and her drink. She then shakes her head, waving a hand and smiling awkwardly. “Yeah, I'm fine. Just tired, I guess.”
Vicki frowns slightly. “If you were tired, we could've just met up another time.”
“No!” Angela yelps without thinking. The two of them share a couple of blinks before she laughs nervously. “Sorry, I mean. No, because I'm sure you're soooo busy. Like, wow. Vicki Kawaguchi actually became a ballerina. It's impressive, you know,” she rambles.
Vicki giggles. “Thank you.” After a pause, she asks, “What about you? Are you doing anything for work, or…?” she trails off, leaving Angela room to answer.
Although hesitant, she eventually replies with, “I'm an elementary school teacher for the third grade.”
“A teacher? That's amazing, Angela,” the ballerina praises. She then adds, “I remember you mentioning about considering teaching.”
Angela's eyes widened a bit. “You actually remembered that?”
“Obviously. Why wouldn't I?”
She shrugs, leaning back a bit. “I don't know. I guess I just assumed that it's been a while, so you'd probably forgotten about it.” She takes a pause to sip on her drink. “And it's not like I mentioned it much.”
“I have a good memory,” Vicki claims. “I could probably remember every single thing from, let's say… December 24th 2001.”
Angela raises an eyebrow, intrigued. “Go on.”
Vicki opens her mouth for a moment, and then clicks her tongue. Angela tries to stifle a laugh.
“Shush.” Vicki attempts to make a whack at her hand, but fails. “I'm thinking.”
Eventually, Vicki says, “Okay, well. It was Christmas Eve, obviously, and it was snowing. I wanted to build a snowman, so Kenny and I went into our backyard, right? We made it, and then, after a couple of minutes—” She takes a bite out of her cake, “—Our dog comes out. You remember him, right? Little, old Woofer.” Angela nods, humming. “Anyways, I thought it'd be fun to play with him in the snow and stuff. Anyways, I find some of his toys and we play, and at one point, he jumps on me. I fell over because he was way bigger than me, and I ended up falling right in the snowman! Kenny came out and he was honestly a bit annoyed, mainly because we were using his hat and scarf and all of that for the snowman, since I didn't want to use mine. But we remade it, so it was all good,” she shrugs, grinning. “Oh, and don't tell him I said this, but I kind of made it look like Woofer did it all on his own, rather than me having something to do with it.”
Angela laughs again. “Really?”
“Yes, really. Do you think I made that up?”
“Well, did you?”
“No!”
“Just checking,” Angela teases. “The Vicki I remember was a bit of a liar, you know. And she was always saying, ‘But don't tell!’. Hey, ya even did it right now!”
“As if you're any better,” Vicki remarks light-heartedly. “And it was for the greater good.” Angela rolls her eyes, but the smile doesn't leave her face.
“How's he doing, anyway?” Angela asks, before clarifying, “Kenny, I mean.”
“Oh, same old,” Vicki replies, waving her fork around. “Always tinkering away or DJing. It's fun watching him, though. What about Tony?”
Angela groans. “I don't even want to think about him right now.”
“I'm guessing he's the same as well,” Vicki chuckles.
“Basically,” Angela grumbles. “We don't need to talk about him. He's still as lame as ever.”
“Then we won't,” Vicki assures her. She glances around, trying to figure out what to say next, until her eyes widen slightly in realisation. “Oh! You know, I was meaning to ask… Are you free next week? Saturday night?”
Angela is caught off guard by her question. It takes her a moment of processing it, before she replies with, “Uh. No, no, I'm not doing anything important. Why?”
“Well, if nothing else comes up, I was wondering…” Vicki proceeds to reach into her bag, taking out a ticket and sliding it across the table. “…If you'll come to one of my performances?”
Angela immediately swipes the ticket. “Yes.”
“Only if you're free!” the ballerina reminds her.
“I'll clear up everything, Vicki, seriously—”
“Don't say it like that! I'd feel bad if you missed something like this.”
“First of all, it's you, soooo obviously I'm going no matter what; nothing's more important than that. Second of all, ya literally got me a free ticket— It says prime seating, Vicki, holy shit! Even if you were a complete stranger, I'm not just giving that up! Do ya think I'm crazy or something?”
Vicki stares at her blankly, but it doesn't take long for that warm smile to come back. “If you insist… Thanks. It means a lot. Sorry I didn't get one for your partner, though.”
Now it's Angela's turn to stare blankly at her. When Vicki notices this, she keeps that smile on her face as her gaze travels down to Angela's hand, even leaning in a bit closer, catching Angela off guard yet again.
“You shouldn't be acting so surprised,” Vicki whispers jokingly, a sweet giggle along with it. She's sure she has seen this exact scene the times they would hide out in the school bathrooms together and escape into their own world, gossiping about whoever and whatever. “Come on, Angela, just tell me already! Who's the lucky one?” she asks, gesturing to Angela's hand with a nod. Angela, confused for a moment, looks down at her own hands.
Shit, she thinks, I forgot about that.
“If it's meant to be some super underground secret, I won't tell anyone,” Vicki adds.
Angela waves a hand again. “It's not like that. It's just my fiancée.”
“Just your fiancée? You make it sound like it isn't a big deal.”
“You know I don't mean it like that. To be honest, I don't really know what to say about him,” Angela admits. “He's a nice guy. Stable job. Nice sense of humour sometimes.”
When Angela looks back up at Vicki, there's this strange expression on her face that Angela can't make out, as if what she said was meant to stun her. Angela squints her eyes, but she quickly loses her opportunity to ask about it.
“He sounds wonderful,” Vicki murmurs. “You should introduce us sometime.”
Angela is quick to shut it down. “We can talk about that later, right? I think we're already making too many plans. Let me at least watch your performance, and we can talk about a meet-up like that afterwards.”
“Ah. True,” Vicki agrees. “I can wait.”
The conversation diverts from there, mainly about any other plans the other had coming up, work, and the like. Angela pays the bill, even though Vicki begs her friend to let her pay it instead (“Are you insane? You literally brought me a ticket to a prime seat like it was nothing,” is Angela's attempt at reasoning with her, which eventually works), before the two part ways.
It's only after Angela gets home does she realise she forgot to ask Vicki how in the world she managed to get her number after so many years, but she's too tired to even lift up her phone to ask her. Maybe later, she figures.
June 22nd, 1997.
Angela vaguely remembers when she met Vicki for the first time, though they never actually talked. And it was nothing fancy, either. Literally all it was was that they just so happened to be drafted on the same baseball team for that season's backyard games.
She kind of remembers the line-up. Stephanie, Sally, Dante, Gretchen, Luanne, Ernie, Dmitri, and then herself and Vicki.
What she does clearly remember, though, is the moment Vicki was chosen to be on this team. When she walks up to the others who had already been picked to stand with them whilst they wait for the coach to decide the final placements, she notices Angela, smiling and waving at her randomly, to which Angela did the same before the two of them just stood silently with the others.
September 23rd, 2018.
Although Vicki and Kenny don't live with each other anymore, and haven't for a good while by now, Vicki still finds herself coming to his apartment way more than she originally anticipated, to the point that both Kenny and his roommates just treat it as any normal day when she walks through the door, unannounced or not.
So, when Vicki finds out that Angela Delvecchio has a fiancée—a guy, at that—the first thing she does after hanging out with her is barge into Kenny's apartment, whilst trying her best not to look as if she had dunked her entire face into a bowl of water. Of course, at this point, Kenny considers it a routine. He doesn't even glance up from whatever he's working on and greets her, and doesn't think to do so until he hears Vicki's wobbly voice greet him back. By the time Kenny turns around to ask what's wrong, Vicki had already escaped into his bedroom, and by the time he dropped everything he was doing and followed her, he found her sitting by the side of his bed on the floor, sobbing as quietly as she could.
“Engaged?”
The two of them are now sitting next to each other at his computer after Vicki had washed herself up, playing a new save file for the Sims 4 whilst Vicki rambled away about the whole situation.
“That's what I said!” Vicki yells. But then, more quietly, “In my head. But I still said it.”
“I mean,” Kenny clears his throat, “it's been a while, hasn't it?”
Vicki pouts. “What's that supposed to mean?”
“…Before I say anything else, don't get mad,” her brother warns her. Vicki doesn't look away from the computer screen, but she raises her eyebrow as she clicks through all the customisation options for the Sim she was currently making.
And, Vicki doesn't mean to, but her voice rises a bit once again. “And what's that supposed to mean?”
“I told you not to get mad! I haven't even said anything yet,” Kenny scolds her. Vicki lets out a long, drawn out sigh, and her silence afterwards prompts him to carry on, but the way he speaks is as if he's hesitant to bring it up now. “But I already said it, I guess. It's been a while. I doubt Angela was going to be the same when you last saw her.”
“…I know that. I just didn't expect for her to be, you know.”
“Well, we're all getting older now. Not surprised that some of us are moving on to stuff like that.”
“Would she look better with blue or pink hair?”
“What?”
“My Sim. Does she look better with blue or pi—”
“Blue.”
“I knew you'd say that,” Vicki remarks.
Kenny gives her a look at that comment, but brushes it off. “You are listening to me, right? About what I said just now?”
“I am,” Vicki says. “And you're right! I'm being silly right now. I'll get over it by tomorrow.”
Kenny opens his mouth to say something else, but Vicki interrupts him. “Which top should I pick?”
“Um.” Kenny has to think for a moment. “The green one.”
“You always pick the boring options,” Vicki complains.
“Then pick something else? Also, they're not boring. Maybe you're the boring one.”
“Now you're just being mean.”
Kenny rolls his eyes. “Yeah, yeah, whatever you say. Just don't play for too long, alright? This game overheats like crazy.”
In response, all Vicki does is stick her tongue out at him and gets back to playing, asking for Kenny's opinions along the way. (She does eventually whisper a “Thank you” and gives him the tightest hug she could before she heads back home for the night, even though Kenny offers multiple times for her to just sleep over.)
September 24th, 2018.
Vicki doesn't get over it.
Now, she is well aware it's been over a decade since she last saw Angela prior to their meet-up yesterday, so obviously things are going to be different, just like Kenny said. And Angela is certainly different. Not completely, at least to Vicki, but it's something that she finds hard not to notice.
Angela always had that sarcastic flare to her, though Vicki would argue it was more of a minor thing with her. Vicki feels like she's seen exactly that exemplified by about ten maybe. Which doesn't seem like a lot, but still. Not to mention, Angela cut her hair. When they were kids, it reached somewhere down at her back, and as teens she let it grow more past that. But now her hair's length was roughly around the midway point of her neck, and also, she clearly dyed it at some point because of the multiple dark purple streaks near the ends of her hair mixing in with her original colour. Her clothing style seems more comforting and fitting of a teacher compared to how she dressed in high school, too. Angela seems to stop caring about people seeing her eye bags as well, even if it's only a slight glimpse at them. Also, Vicki is so sure she's taller. She doesn't know how, maybe her mind is playing tricks on her, but she's so sure Angela somehow grew another inch or so since their high school graduation.
Regardless, once again, Angela isn't completely different. Honestly, other than all of that, Angela feels and looks mostly the same. For one, she's still the clumsiest ever, tripping over twice as she approached the table her and Vicki were going to sit at. Another thing is that her face feels the same, just grown? (Well, they're adults now so that's obviously going to be the case, but that's the best way Vicki can word her point). Also, she's still as nice as ever. Even if she's leaned into that dry and sarcastic type of humour more now, she's still extremely nice to Vicki and others, and she still complains about Tony as per usual.
So, she's different and she's not! That's an entirely normal progression for someone growing up! Even if it includes something like… marriage.
That word leaves a bitter taste in her mouth.
She wants to understand, and she wants to get over it. But thinking about her best friend—Wait, can she call her that?—getting married to some guy even though she knows it could've been a possibility riles her up to no end.
Is it wrong to feel jealous? Vicki doesn't think there's anything to get out of jealousy; she learnt that during her years of training to be the ballerina she is today. To be honest, she thought that, perhaps, all of her years of experience would simply expel that feeling altogether forever. Which also may be an unrealistic approach, but she thought it was working for a while. She certainly didn't expect Angela Delvecchio to kill all of that because she had a ring on her finger.
Then again, it's only been a day since she found out, and Vicki has always considered herself the type to let things go. Mostly. (Sometimes, she still finds herself annoyed at Kenny for practically exhorting her out of her cheesecake when they were younger because he ran over Woofer's tail, despite the fact she was the one to immediately blame him for it under the pretense she was the one who stepped on his tail). So, she's pretty sure she can move on and continue being Angela's friend.
…God, she's starting to hate that word already.
June 30th, 1997.
“Don't throw the ball hard, okay…?”
That's all Vicki said when she walked up to the plate (or, the stick Angela had substituted for one). Earlier that day, she asked Angela to help her practice her batting more, and considering the fact that Angela had told her she wanted to practice her pitching more, she seemingly had no problems helping Vicki along the way. And because Angela “didn't want the enemy practicing with them”, the older girl urged Vicki into letting them practice in the backyard of the Kawaguchi household, which Vicki agreed to since she felt as though she didn't have any reason not to.
“I won't!” Angela assured her. Vicki nodded, getting into her batting stance. She could see Angela taking a deep breath, and she couldn't help but take one herself. Angela threw the ball, and Vicki swung, but it completely missed. When she threw the ball back to Angela, the girl told her to maybe raise the bat slightly higher. Vicki kept it in mind, but it isn't exactly helpful. The aspiring ballerina kept finding herself missing practically every swing Angela threw at her. Really, it was no wonder she got picked as the main pitcher for the team. Vicki never understood why she wanted to perfect her pitching even more; she already seemed like a professional to her.
After another missed ball (it seemed like the millionth one to Vicki), Angela ushered her over. She reached her hand out to Vicki's bat, and, whilst confused, Vicki handed it over to her. Angela gave her another hand signal, this one telling her to move back.
“I think,” Angela started, putting down her glove. “Ya gotta do something like this.”
Vicki watched as she swung the bat as efficiently as she could, certainly in a more powerful way than Vicki ever could (Vicki was sometimes still surprised the other was only a year older than her). Angela then stood up right, handing the bat back.
“I dunno how to explain it, to be honest, but, like, ya get it, dont'cha?”
“I think so,” Vicki said. She then took a step back herself, her face contorting into a confused expression as she tried to remember what Angela did. She then made an attempt to swing the bat in the air, and, looking up at Angela for confirmation, she could see her grinning ear to ear.
“Yeah. Yeah, just like that. If ya do it like that, you'll be a master in no time.”
“For real?”
“For sure! Now just do it again when I pitch to ya,” Angela advised. Vicki wordlessly obliges, heading back to where the stick was placed. She got into her stance and squinted her eyes until Angela threw the ball once more, and this time, she actually made contact with the ball!
“I did it!” Vicki shouted.
“Ye—!”
But before Angela could properly celebrate along with her, the ball that Vicki hit went straight to her forehead. Angela dropped to the ground, and Vicki screamed loud enough for her mom to come out of the house and to where they were in the backyard.
(Angela, against the better judgement of their coach, made way too many attempts to join in on practice later that day, mainly because the first game they were having soon was against Tony, and Angela had told her earlier that she wanted to practice her skills enough to “Beat his ass into oblivion”. Vicki apologised at least thirty times, despite the fact that Angela kept reassuring her she was fine and didn't care each time.)
September 29th, 2018.
Angela has seen a handful of Vicki's performances online over the years, and some other ballerina performances in general, but seeing one in person was an entirely different experience. She's no expert, of course, so it's not like she can name all those moves on the fly, but she thinks having the eyes to see just how hard Vicki had been working. And, it's nice to finally see that gracefulness up close in person in a professional setting for the first time in her life.
“Sorry! I didn't think I'd take so long.”
Angela whips her head around to see Vicki walking towards her. She's dressed in her normal clothes now rather than her ballet ones (a frilly pink dress, a pair of light pink tights, some white trainers and a black velvet jacket, to be precise), and a duffel bag slung over her shoulder.
Angela shakes her head. “No, it's fine. If I didn't feel like waiting, I wouldn't have asked in the first place,” she explains. “You did great, by the way. I don't think I've seen anything like it.”
She can see Vicki's cheeks turn a bit pink. “Hehe, thank you. I worked hard on it.”
“I can tell,” Angela says. “Oh, and before I forget…” She takes a moment to turn her attention to the spare tote bag she bought along with her, and soon enough, she pulls out a bouquet of camellias, pressing it against her friend's chest. “These, Miss Prima Ballerina, are for you.”
Vicki's face looks like a tomato already. She almost looks like she's about to cry. Cute, Angela thinks.
“Oh, oh… Angela, you shouldn't have! Aw, this is so… Thank you,” she babbles, but then adds, “but technically, I'm not actually a prima ballerina. That's usually for the leading ballerina or the chief of the company—”
“Well, you're the prima ballerina in my heart, alright?” Angela interjects. “And it's nothing, really. You did great out there, and it's been a while, so I wanted to get you something pretty. Plus, you got me fucking prime seating to this thing. That shit's expensive! You can't hide that from me!” At this point, Angela doesn't know how many times she's said it, but whatever it takes to ingrain it in Vicki's brain, she supposes.
Vicki huffs wistfully. “I'm just happy you came. I knew it'd be a lot to put on you, especially since it's been… years.” Angela can see her subtly wincing at saying the quiet part out loud. Sure, maybe the two of them already acknowledged that it's been ‘a while’ or ‘forever’, but saying ‘years’ felt different, and Angela can't blame her because she almost winces herself.
But, Angela tosses that feeling aside and scoffs. “You know I'd do anything for you. If you wanted me to cut my arm off, I would.”
“Don't say that. Don't cut your arm off for me, silly.” At that, the two of them burst into laughter. Angela is pretty sure she sees people staring at them, and Vicki tries to calm her down, but she can barely get her words out, and it causes both of them to continue laughing. The only thing that calms them down is Angela being able to muster a question out.
“Y– You, uh, you getting picked up?”
“I am,” Vicki nods. Angela stiffens slightly. Don't look so disappointed now, me. “What about you?”
“Uh, yeah. I'm gonna just drive back. Brought my car with me, and— You sure ya have a ride, right? Like, whoever's picking ya up isn't bailing on ya, or…?”
“You don't need to worry, Angela. My ride is coming, and I'm sure I'll be safe. I wouldn't mind taking a ride with you sometime soon, though. If you're up to it, that is.”
“I literally told you five minutes ago that I'd cut my arm off for you, and you think I wouldn't let ya in my car?”
“I was just making sure!” Vicki exclaims. Angela wanted to poke some fun at her for that, but she's interrupted by the sound of a car right next to them honking, the two women looking over at it. They then look back at each other, and Vicki waves a hand.
“That's for me,” she tells Angela. “Sorry I can't stick around for long. But, um, thanks again. For all of this.”
“Stop apologising, jeez. I'm doing it because we're friends, and you've already done too much for me. All I want you to do now is make sure ya get back home safe, alright?”
“Hehe, alright. You get home safe, too, Angela. Have a good night.”
“You too, and I will.”
Vicki is about to turn to walk off to the car, but then turns back to Angela, pulling her into a quick hug. Angela can barely process it, and it doesn't help that Vicki lets go and is waving goodbye to her when she finally does, and all Angela can do is wave back, dumbfounded, as Vicki gets into the car and drives off.
As she walks back to her own car, Angela finds herself with her head hung low and kicking at the pavement too much for her liking.