Adopted by Beetlejuice: The Cast

Prologue Part 2

Sophia's POVThis will pick up literally where the last chapter left off.

Just then, our orders are called. I'm about to stand up, but Quinn gestures for me to sit down.

"Stay stay, I'll go grab em," she says jumping out of her seat. I just nod and watch her maneuver her way towards the counter. She darts back and forth faster than I thought possible.

"One of the benefits of being small," she says grinning and handing me my coffee and sandwich. I smile back at her as she sits down.

" So I'm sure you know how old I am," I say.

"I do," she answers, occupied by pulling out a croissant.

"How old are you?"

"15," she pauses, "Well I'm about to be 16, about as in like a few days."

"Ah, well happy birthday," I say sipping my coffee. "What do you do for school,"

"Homeschool, I did elementary in person but when I started Annie, I switched schools."

"You're almost 16? Sophomore?"

"Actually I started college a few years back, it's like an online community thing. Just to get my cores, you know," she answered casually. Well that explained it. She was a genius. Quinn was goofy but she had a strange air of sophistication that I couldn't quite place.

"Wow, Quinn, that's incredible," I say, still slightly awed. I had graduated through online school during the show but finishing up college at 16? No way. 

"Thanks," she beams, "so what about you, what are you doing in Queens."

"You guessed it earlier, getting away from life," I answered.

"No, I mean what happened to make you decide life wasn't on your agenda for today," she says, like it should have been obvious. "What brought you to having breakfast with a civilian like me."

"You're not a civilian, you act," I say. And then it hits me. "Hey is your last name Aizler?"

"It is," she says cautiously.

"You worked on Frozen recently didn't you? First understudy for young Anna, but you took over for a little right? I saw you once," I say, proud of myself.

"Yeah, I did take over a while back," she says looking relieved.

"Where else would I know you from?" I ask speciously, noticing her relief. 

"Oh...uh nothing, nothing just some people know my parents," she says looking nervous. I drop the subject.

"Did you leave the Frozen?"

"Yes, it was when I had got accepted into college so I quit to focus on school. Also, you dodged the question. What brought you to having breakfast with a civilian like me, remember?"

"What was the question again," I say teasingly. She gives me a look. "Ok, ok, ok. I just needed a break from being me. It's pressure to be on Broadway, you have a certain image people expect from you and feel like I can never live up to that image."

"Who cares about people," she says, chewing on her croissant.

"What?'

"You said people expect a certain image from you. Who cares about people?"

"Well, do I, I guess."

"Well, you shouldn't," she says matter of factly. "What matters is that you live up to the image you have for yourself. If you're happy who cares. If you're not, well then it's time to take a look at yourself and see what you need to fix. Everyone deserves to be happy and you shouldn't be the thing to keep yourself from that." I couldn't help but think how strange this was. A random girl I met in Queens sitting with me in a coffee shop, giving me advice. But of course, it was great advice. I think about it for a moment.

"Ok, alright," I say, still thoughtful.

"So?" she asks.

"So what?"

"So are you happy with yourself?"

"I don't know," I answer somewhat truthfully. Quinn looks like she's about to say something but she doesn't. I'll add that to the list of things I know about her: she knows when to hold her tongue.

"You were really good in Frozen," I say hoping to change the topic "you had lots of character, I laughed a lot."

"Thank you," she smiles "I like rolls with lots of character, more fun to play, you know."

"Do you think you're done with acting?"

"No, definitely not. I couldn't imagine life without performing. Leaving Frozen was the hardest thing I ever did and I regret it all the time, not to say I'm not glad I did it overall, but it stings. Nothing compares to theater," she says, she looks like she's a million years away for a moment but then perks back up "No, broadway has not seen the last of Quinn Aziler." I laugh at her dramatics and then she breaks down into a giggle fit too. It felt good to laugh.

"Thank you Quinn, for this breakfast thing," I say, truthfully "I needed to laugh."

"Anytime," she says, drinking that last bit of her coffee.

"Do, do you mean that," I ask.

"Course," she answers

"Then I'd love to do this again."

"Then so would I," she grins. "Here's my number." She rips a piece of paper from something inside her bag and pulls a pencil out from her jean pocket. She writes it down quickly, hands it to me, and then checks her phone. "Holly crap, I got to go, I have class," she yelps "text me." And then she's already out the door and I am left completely dazed.