Chapter 3 – Can’t Cut Me Off

Raelena St. John

 The girl took the stage. Long hair, hung loose about her, falling past her waist, already seeming to move as she beat out a steady rhythm. Leather clad legs beat a standard tattoo, the drums from the live, likely overpaid, band behind her already picking up. She thrusts an arm in the air, the crowd already screaming. But she can just hear the jingling of several charms ringing against one another as they bounce against her bracelet. Her eyes open, the green-blues lighting up, seeming to spark as the music started swelling around her. Her other hand comes up, bringing the microphone to her mouth.

 "I face ya down, two fingers raised. First drink poured back, second on its way," she starts up, her voice already demanding. The audience loses their shit in just the first few lines, already hooked on the strong voice that started filling the stage. The girl's hand's raised, fingers up and flying, counting her sung orders in perfect timing. "Third's coming down as I hit the floor, music pumps through me" she's outright strutting now. Her hair dances around her, seemingly alive. The lights catch the almost white blonde strands, catching them in different colors. The dancing colors extend all the way to the edges, which are even more vibrant, as it wasn't just lights reflecting the almost rainbow hued hair. She struts easily in tight leather pants, all legs as she owns the stage.

 "Can feel it pulsing, pulsing," she lowers her head, then snaps up, almost sneering into the mic, staring down a camera. "And I'm just getting started!" She punches her arm into the air, the jangling bracelet snapping over her as she launches into a chorus. Her body writhes, driven by music as she lets her voice snap the words out, a near demand: "Can't cut me off, cut me off, cut me off. Keep on trying," another smirk, a jerk of the head, hair flying, "end up behind me. Another number, another no, another not gonna stop me hold me down." She stops, jerking her hand to point toward the crowd. "'cuz you can't cut me off. Can't, just can't cut me oofffff" She blares her way through the end of that chorus, demonstrating the vocal gymnastics that had put her on that stage in the first place. She can practically feel her competition shivering down stage. Can almost see the judges all clapping along, the vibrant "fun" one already popping to her feet, hands driven together by the sheer will.

 But she snaps her attention into the crowd, moving to music that she's arranged. Each motion sinuous as she pulls through the beat. She lets the vibrant energy pulse through her and the crowd, snapping out only a snippet of the second verse (only so much time on stage for each contestant): "Heading out, hair's a rainbow. Drink in hand, fourth or higher?" She shrugs, smirks, whirls, back to the crowd, confidence rolling even as she continues: "Grab a girl, hell, maybe yours," she whirls, points to a guy in the crowd, winks and spins. "Kiss her tight. Alcoholic. Music pumps through us as we start to move---" she's following along to the music, letting the almost primal beat pulse through her. Bits of sweat are starting to form on her too pale skin as she struts around. They'd actually told her to be careful about that bit, to hold off on that verse; save it for the studio. Only that bit might get her in trouble, but she's already rolling through the rising chorus, feeding the crowd into a frenzy.

 As she finishes her repeat of the chorus, she loops the crowd in, an "us" fueling them, including them in her rager, like they haven't felt that way before. Soon nearly everyone's chanting "can't cut me off" thrusting arms into the air, supporting the rainbow colored singer on stage as she juts into a stop, arm with the charm snapping into the air. She's breathing hard, and her gaze cuts through the crowd, as it always does. She sees her, like every time: sitting right there in the front row, looking more adorable than sexy, far shorter, far darker than her. The singer gives a wiggle, the charms jingling and jangling, while she lowers her arm.

 There's talk from the judges, each one pointing out the raw energy. She's even impressed the British one, who can't quite believe that he'd just heard that.

 "It's anthem night, and we were expecting a party anthem from you, Rae," he says, gesturing toward the leggy singer.

 "Bet your British bum," she replies, and he gives her a wry look, reminding her that it wasn't her turn to talk.

 "But you twisted that anthem into something more, a personal anthem, and one for a lot of other people," he continues, gesturing. The members of the crowd are absolutely roaring, and more than a handful are raising wrists with mock-bracelets jingling and jangling with their own, probably less personal, charms. He just gestures and finishes simply: "You won the night."

 And Rae can't help herself, dragging up the microphone; "Again."

 Rae jerked away, grunting as she felt a strand of hair catching in her mouth. It tasted gross, just a bit too greasy and a bit too lank and, well, kinda like hair. Groaning, she rolled, feeling her body catching on something. It took Rae more than she'd liked to admit to realize that she should've thought "one" instead of "thing" there at the end, and she twisted to see a tangled bit of limbs and hair that definitely weren't hers.

 Smiling, Rae stood up, stretching wide, realizing that, as per usual, she was dangerously close to naked. Yawning, she scratched herself, before realizing that something had jerked her out of the happy memory-dream, or dream-memory, she really wasn't that particular about that sort of thing.

 She'd totally won that night too. Won most nights during the competition. Blasted her way through with raw charisma, rawer lyrics, pure talent, and purer passion. The rest of the contestants hadn't stood a choice, save for maybe Dakota. Hell, Rae had been running out of steam, Dakota probably would've won if… if things hadn't turned out like they had.

Instead, here she was. America's Dream living a nightmare. She twisted, seeing that the girl was even more out of it than she was. Not surprising. Rae tasted cotton in her mouth, her eyelids felt heavy enough it was amazing that her eyes were open. Sunlight kept lancing through the shades of her trailer, making her blink. What was she even doing up?

"Bad sun," she mumbled, glaring at it, but using its light to fumble her way through her clothing. She realized as she did why she was up: that wasn't a noise from her memory. Her phone was chirping. Grumbling, Rae grabbed it, glanced at the alarm and winced. Fifteen minutes until her first performance here at the Secret Lands. Part of her indentured servitude, that supposedly great launching point for her career. The Dream got a regular gig at the park for an entire year on top of the record deal (Rae figured she could put off her studio time for a while, even with her raging popularity; "Unlock Yourself" was still charting pretty well anyway).

The mound that was probably a decently attractive woman moaned from the other end. Rae ignored her, instead shuffling through clothing, looking for something that would probably do for a performance. Fortunately she didn't have much in here that wouldn't. Problem was that she wasn't entirely sure what was clean and what wasn't. Rae spent a few minutes sniff-testing a few pairs of underwear before deciding on one, shimmying on a pair of jeans that didn't appear stained beyond a little bit of grease, and sliding on a t-shirt with "#Raenbow" on it, which meant she was wearing her own merch, but she got over that a while ago.

Fingers through her hair, which felt greasy and probably in need of a wash. A quick grab of some kind of protein bar, slide into a pair of tall Converse and Rae was out into the light. A few bottles, mostly water but a few that were definitely whatever the honeyed, mind-altering substance they sold at the Cheerful Grove, slid out. She grabbed her refillable Land Tankard, slid on a pair of shades, and started strutting toward her stage.

Rae got about ten feet before remembering that she'd probably need her phone. She doubled back, grabbed it, chirped at the mound on her bed that she could leave whenever, and headed back out. Five minutes later, she was hitting the strangely packed stage to do her sound check. Rae smirked as she looked out at the gathered people. First show always packed them in. The Lands Coordinator, Mickey or whatever, had made sure that the Dream got the premier outdoor stage, best in the park. She was literally perched near the entrance of the park, just off the main walkway and not far from the elfish forest (filled with attractive people, which Rae appreciated).

The layers of wooden benches looked impressive, particularly since they were almost full. Several of the people had the rainbow charms around their wrists, making Rae pause her tuning just long enough to rub at her wrist, where hers still dangled, one charm hanging far lower than the rest. The rest of the area had been decorated to match the show and its champion. Various flyers and everything proclaiming that she was Raelena St. John, America's Dream, performing exclusively at the Lands. There was even a table that had some of her merch, mostly various t-shirts and copy bracelets and some photos and stuff. Rae waved at the crowd, carefully scanning for potentials. After all, the female-shaped mound in her trailer would probably be gone in hours.

Five minutes passed quick, and soon Rae grabbed the mic. She might look a mess, might've not cleaned her trailer since they'd gotten it for her, didn't really want to be here and it showed, but the moment she grabbed that mic, the performer stepped out. There wasn't an intro, wasn't Rae saying hi or greeting. She just launched into a rendition of "Can't Cut Me Off" that nearly matched her Dream performance, getting the crowd worked up. She paused after that, taking a breath, knowing that she should talk.

 Rae must've hung just a moment too long, because she heard someone shuffling. She opened an eye, seeing someone pulling out their phone. Asshole. That happened at amusement park performances, even ones like hers. But it killed Rae's barely there buzz, not helped by her dream, and in particular her dream-memory's ending, which was before she'd showed up. Everything within the performer just died within an instant.

 Rae froze on stage, with the crowd looking confused. She didn't speak; didn't move; didn't do anything but stare at the phone, more specifically at the person ignoring her performance and outright staring at the phone. That was what she was down to now, wasn't she? Pulling out these awesome performances for a theme park crowd that couldn't care. Rae's gaze swept the crowd, and she felt that strange mixed pull of feelings within. Because while, yeah, there were a lot of people obviously not paying attention, particularly since she'd lapsed into silence, there were also some people who were quite clearly fans, as they were staring.

 How the hell was she supposed to respond to that?

 "Sorry, was just waitin' for the metrosexual host to pop up and tell you guys my number," drawled Rae, smirking. "Some of you already got your phones out, after all," she moved back, grabbing her guitar. That sometimes threw them: she'd barely played on the show and it was more of those pop vehicle things. You'd think that she lacked talent. Instead, she tuned it, giving it a few strums.

 "I think I got just the song for all my fair-weather fans," she drawled, smirking at the crowd as her fingers began moving, starting up the simple tune…

 "Keep 'em comin'!" yelled Rae, waving a hand and beckoning toward the surprisingly life-like "dwarf" woman. She couldn't help but think that calling them actual dwarfs has to be racist or something. Yeah, sure, they looked like they'd just come out of one of those classical fantasy movies instead of the usual "little people," but wasn't dwarf still derogatory? The sturdy woman that brought over the frothing drink had a decent shape if you dug the whole "something to grab onto" look. Rae gave her an appreciative once-over.

 "Heard ye spent an entire show jus' singin' one song," the maid drawled, her voice having that thick accent they surely put on in this weird "tavern."

 Rae chuckled, taking a sip which of course she smiled around. Technically she wasn't old enough to outright drink, but whatever this frothy stuff they served was apparently didn't count as alcohol. Rae knew that if you drunk enough of the so-called "faerie juice" your head started spinning and you effectively got high.

 She nudged the three empty, "authentic" wooden tankards spread out before her.

 "Yep," she drawled, smacking her lips, "figured I should celebrate by getting my drink on," she winked at the server, before leaning forward. Usually they wore name tags, and usually said tags were placed in the general breast area, which gave Rae two reasons for staring at that location.

 "Ain't like ye 'aven't seen 'em afore, lass," drawled the maid, smirking herself. "Ken ye have a pair o' ye own."

 "Yeah, but mine ain't that big," replied Rae, taking a sip and fighting the urge to pout. "'sides, I was mostly looking for a name, sweet thing. 'course, if you're wanting me to do some staring, I'm not gonna—"

 "Raelena St. John!"

 The voice made Rae jump. She spun, looking across the mostly empty faux tavern toward the entrance. That voice had all the authority of an angry librarian, and Rae recognized the tone all too well. Sure enough, there stood one of her least favorite people in the entire park: the much beloved, possibly attractive if she'd remove the stick from her ass, Mikki DuBois.

 And c'mon, that didn't sound at all like a real name.

 "Wow, you found me in a tavern. That musta taken some real deduction there, Nancy Drew," drawled Rae, taking another sip. The dwarf server gave her a wry look before trundling off. That was always the downside of hanging out in one of the park's approved establishments. Even authentic fairy/dwarf taverns like this were still under the rule and control of the park rule. So, yeah, Rae got all the free drink she wanted (hence the four, now five, empty tankards), but she could also be found without much struggle. The rainbow colored hair probably didn't help either.

 Mikki stomped her way, and Rae just held up her mug. "Another!" she called. "I'm just starting to feel a little head-spinny," she rolled the empty as Mikki stopped before her. Thanks to Rae's impressive height, she had quite a few inches on the dusky skinned cutie, though something about Mikki eclipsed her shape and size. Rae looked up now, what with being sat down and all, enjoying the view, particularly the spark in those amber eyes. "Like the scowl, brings out your eyes," she drawled, wiggling fingers.

 "I just heard that instead of the approved set, you spent an entire show…" Mikki took a deep breath, leaning on a chair as she rubbed her hand over her face. "An entire show… singing one song?"

 "Hey, it was the 'Song that Never Ends'," replied Rae.

 "I don't believe I've heard that one…"

 "It goes on and on, my friends," drawled Rae, her voice going a little sing-song as she went.

 "Yes, that's quite nice, but you can't really—"

 "Some people, started singing it, not knowing what it was," Rae started singing, raising her empty tankard. Mikki's eyes widened, obviously realizing exactly what Rae was planning. The tavern was dwarf themed after all, and Rae had seen those movies involving the cute short people running off on adventures too. "And they'll just keep on singing it forever just because—" Rae gestured to the people around her as she clambered onto a chair, balancing delicately. The drink swam in her veins, making the world spin and her head feel lighter than it had felt in days, or, well, hours might be more accurate. Time slipped sometimes.

 "Everybody!" she called, waving her arms. "This is the song that never ends!"

 Mikki sighed, folding her arms. "Raelena, you're being horribly childish."

 "Yes it goes on and on my friiiiends!" the crowd started singing along, almost as if compelled by Rae's performance. The singer grinned manically as she climbed fully onto the table, swaying with drink. "Some people," she stomped the table, "started singing it, not knowing what it was," did a little spin jump, landing on a table nearby, the current resident just yanking their drink out of the way. "And we'll keep on singing it forever just because—"

 Rae waved her arms as the crowd started all but chanting it, even the sparse, daytime drinkers, mostly a handful of guests and one or two dwarfs off between shifts, carrying on the tune and following along with Rae's song. The singer rounded another verse, swaying her hips and picking up someone's drink without asking. She winked, tossed it back, and then swayed again, practically bellowing as the chorus continued.

 All the while Rae could see Mikki watching her, a look of annoyance on her face. It contorted those pretty, dusky features and for a moment, Rae could just see that other face. It flashed, seeming to show just around Mikki's rounder features for a moment. Amber eyes shifted into a melted chocolate. Rae's foot jerked just where it shouldn't, hit a spill of faerie drink, and she fell, hitting hard enough to drive the wind from her.

 The crowd hissed, and at least one guest let out a "is she okay?" though of course it was Mikki who was there first, checking her over, concern in those amber eyes. Rae blinked, looking up as she swore she saw two people standing there. Two girls, both with that same, brownish skin-tone, both with concerned looks, but one slightly curvier than the other, one who looked like she'd just gotten her hair cropped short by some sort of expert stylist, while the other wore hers almost as long as Rae's in a tight braid. Both shapes wavered for a bit, punching through the ringing in Rae's ears.

 "----of all the self-destructive people in this entire park, I got saddled with dealing with---" said Mikki. She raised a hand, and Rae swore one of her rings glowed for a moment, before this warmth spread through her, righting her gaze.

 It also made her instantly want to vomit. Which she did, though she at least turned and shot it off the table first. Only liquid, mostly faerie drink, slopped out, splattering the dark floor beneath. Burping, Rae rolled back.

 "You're a mess," reiterated Mikki, tapping Rae's forehead. "Why would you ever—"

 "You can't cut me off," mumble Rae. She raised a hand, finger pointed toward the ceiling. "And I got a song 'bout that too," she lowered the hand, wincing.

 "I'm sure you do," said Mikki. She turned, waving off the various onlookers, buying the two of them some semblance of privacy. "Look, Rae. You really shouldn't do this," she raised her hand, cutting off Rae's response, though the singer still mumbled a "bite me" all the same, "I know it's not technically my job to worry about you, but you're family, even if temporary."

 "Yeah, that's just something you say to get people on your side," Rae pointed out, waving a hand. "An' it's a creepy way of referring to people who work for you, by the way. Sounds all cultish."

 Mikki went on. "Which means that we need you to take care of yourself. Or at least put on shows with multiple songs. If you want to go off book, that's fine, I guess," she frowned, clearly not thrilled. Mikki raised a hand up to try and brush back some hair, still having some bangs hanging loose.

 "Dig the hair. You rock the short look," drawled Rae. "Frames your face better, and it's a ---"

 "That's enough," Mikki said, rolling her eyes. Rae swore she could see blushing, which just made her smirk. "Look, just… put variety back in your shows. I don't want to hear another complaint about Raelena St. John. Or at least for a while, alright? I have other, more pressing concerns."

 Rae snorted.

 "Raelena…"

 "Yeah, yeah, heard ya," said Rae, waving a hand. "An' it's just Rae. You sound like a freaking teacher or something." Rae rolled, almost falling off the table, but just managing to catch herself. She winced, feeling the splash around her foot. Definitely landed in her own vomit. Awesome.

 "Variety, Raelena."

 "Fine," said Rae, already smiling as an idea came into mind; to quote a popular work, a wicked, awful, terrible idea. "I promise variety."

 Obviously Mikki was distracted, or at least didn't notice when someone dropped ominous words, because she nodded and turned away. Rae watched her go, enjoying the view. Girl really did look cute. Shame about the whole uptight thing. Rae turned back to the server, smiling.

 "Nay more, Rae," said the dwarf in charge, shaking his head.

 Rae gave him a rude gesture before spinning on her foot. She almost slid on the sick, but managed to balance on a table. With a bit more spring in her step then she probably deserved, Rae headed off into the park. Someone else would be willing to serve her the fairy drink, and there were plenty of more girls out there.

 Though her mind was still filled with amber eyes…