Musicals x Reader OneShots

Catherine Parr (SIX) +~Fluff~+

Requested?: yeah, by @broadwayqueer

Title: You're My Savior

(y/n)'s POV

I looked in the expansive mirror, shivering thanks to the little fabric on my arms and shoulders. Seeing myself in a wedding dress felt a million types of wrong, and at that moment I realized I needed to leave Henry at the altar.

A couple months ago I realized I was gay, but I imagined I could ignore it and pretend I was straight until the inevitable divorce. Dark, I know.

But now, I realized it really wasn't fair to marry this man, not when he loved me in a way I truly couldn't return. He was a kind man, and he'd find someone else someday, but that wasn't me. I couldn't do this.

But the wedding was starting, so I had to leave quickly.

I started grabbing things. My phone, my purse, my own personal belongings, and walked out. I'd tell him tonight, that I couldn't do this, and I'd come out soon. I'd handle this tonight or tomorrow, but right now my priority was getting out of here.

So I walked, ignoring my big fluffy wedding dress with a million layers of petticoat getting in the way. It was a nice dress, with a cinched waist and lovely lace three-quarter length sleeves and a sweetheart neckline. I now understood the princesses in those movies holding up their dresses as they walked, since I was doing that as I scrambled out. I just had to leave, the air in here felt suffocating in my lungs.

I was hit in the face with late October chill when I finally exited that damned building. I smiled into it, taking deep, stinging breaths. I had to take the subway home, pack my things and see if some friend would let me stay with them while I looked for my own apartment. I was an actress on West End, dammit, I should've had my life together. But nooo.

I headed to the subway station, out of breath of thoroughly winded from running through those many halls in the church. But I kept running out of desperation. I was drawing many funny looks now, but I couldn't care. No feelings had internalized yet, I felt numb and cold.

I finally made it to the subway station, quickly getting on a train headed toward my old home. The place I would have to abandon.

I plopped next to a pretty woman in a forest green trench coat and blueish-gray scarf, bent down reading an old looking book.

She looked up, startled, with her dark eyes going wide as she scanned me up and down.

"Are you okay, miss?" She asked in a soft, soothing tone. I gave a tight smile in return.

"Yeah, just the average walking out on your own wedding because you realize you're gay and could never love the man you're marrying the way he loves you. Typical Sunday." I stated, catching my breath. She nodded slowly, not going back to her book but instead slipping a bookmark into it and closing it.

"Oh honey, that's awful. Did you live with him?" She asked, studying me. She gave off a very intelligent, wise vibe that calmed me.

"Yeah, I'm on my way to get my stuff and see if any friend will let me move in with them until I can get an apartment." I explained, looking down at my hands folded on the fluffy, white lap of my dress. 

"I was just about to head home, but I have a big place with an extra room if you want? I live with 5 of my friends, though." She offered, making me look up in shock, I waved my hands frantically.

"No, I couldn't impose like that-" I denied as quickly as I could, but she grabbed my wrists softly to stop me. I was stricken with how lovely and soft her hands were. Oh god that was weird. That was really weird.

"You wouldn't impose, I could ask the girls if they'd mind. I'll come back to your place with you and help you move in. I'm sure they wouldn't mind. Trust me, we all have experience with marrying men we're not fond of." She said. I furrowed my brows in confusion.

"Fine I will, but what do you mean?" I asked.

"Have you heard of the West End show SIX? The one where the real reincarnated wives of Henry VIII tell their stories and stuff?" She asked. It rung a bell, and I remembered I saw it on my way to the theatre where I did Heathers as a swing for Veronica, Mac and Chandler.

"I do indeed." I answered, thinking I knew where this was going.

"I'm Catherine Parr, one of the queens. We all live together since we figured it would be easy and we don't have many friends outside the show or anything. The swings who we hired and ladies in waiting live across the street." She explained. I nodded, (e/c) eyes still wide.

"That's really cool! Hey, I'm on West End too! I'm one of the female swings in Heathers." I told her excitedly. Her face lit up.

"I thought I recognized you! You were Heather Chandler on the night we went to see it! You signed my playbill, since we all went to the stagedoor." She told me. I grinned excitedly.

"Oh, that's wonderful! I haven't seen your show, but I may have to check it out soon." I told her, bumping shoulders with her. She grinned, her cheeks going a bit pink, which I ignored. She unlocked her phone and typed a text on a group chat called "Queens👑"

I saw her send whatever she typed, immediately getting responses.

"Yeah, the girls are all fine with it. Now, let's go to your place and get you packed up so you can move in. I think we'll all get along quite well." She said with a contagious smile. I smiled back, my heart feeling lighter than it had in a very long time.

"Thank you, Catherine. You're my savior." I whispered.

(1013 words)