"these people 'round here were beaten down, eyes sunk in smoke-dried face. they're resigned to what their fate is but not us (no, never), no, not us (no, never). we are far to young and clever."
or
in which the universe wants to prove a girl wrong.
...
from: musicman_pr@broadway.com to: beetlejuicelogistics@broadway.com sent on Friday, 09:28 AM, 10/01/2020
Good Morning, Miss Flanagan.
It has come to our attention that there is a largely spread dissatisfaction regarding our show within musical theatre fans, more specifically the fans of your show. We would just like to reiterate that it's not our intention to see such a successful show close its doors, specially because it has great themes entwined in the plot.
But we can no longer stand by and let your fans continue to bad talk, start arguments and what not online and out of the internet as well. We would like to urge you to take action, maybe do something to calm them down.
Feel free to add this contact to your list and contact us if need be.
Conroy Moran, Head of Public Relations
(if they had rolled any further, Eileen's eyes would've gotten stuck. she had known her high school boyfriend had gone on to take over the American branch of his father's company, she just didn't expect having to deal with him ever again. they knew each other so well that it was easily seeable he hadn't touched a keyboard to write this. Conroy didn't know this many words. coming down from the high that was yesterday, she'd even sang along to show tunes, her work day was shaping up to be a headache.)
from: beetlejuicelogistics@broadway.com to: musicman_pr@broadway.com cc: beetlejuicepr@broadway.com sent on Friday, 10:36 AM, 10/02/2020
Good morning, assistant that wrote this statement!
I wish you a good year, and may I say you did a fantastic job with this email but I am afraid that there is a mistake. The department of logistics is in no way responsible for things such as this but I have cc'ed our pr and I am sure Larson will be glad to help you with this.
As for this conflict you seem to think exists, I am afraid there's nothing any of us can do. My suggestion as a friend to you and colleague to your boss is that we let things run it's course. These are people we are talking about, not number or statistics we could control. Not that I am suggesting you did this, but they are grieving the imminent loss of something held dear by them, something taken sudden and forcefully. Just a thought, I would do the same and I'm wagering so would you.
Let each of us continue doing our jobs to the best of our abilities, maybe something good will come out of this, no?
Best regards, Eileen Flanagan Logistics
(her mind took over to prevent the heart from adding anymore words that may taint her professional reputation, choosing to send that professionally scathing email just as it was.)
"Miss Flanagan." an intern announced at her door. "mail is here."
oh great.
▼
Eileen, a pipe burst in our bathroom. miss, our spare wig melted. there are angry fans causing a ruckus by entrance number two. leen, someone just called to cancel a meeting scheduled for next week. would you come help, we've had another issue with overbooking and people are crying. Eileen, Eileen, Eileen.
"Eileen." a voice broke through the cacophony of voices in her head that replayed today's events.
"I swear I am about to murder whoever just called me." she was the picture of exhaustion. head lowered over crossed arms, half the neatly cluttered table covered by a sea of ginger hair, whatever up-do it had been in long gone. she'd even dressed cute to reflect her unusually bright humor in a nineties looking green colored plaid skirt, a black high-necked sweater and some boots to make her taller.
none of the effort felt worth it now, after a long show and even longer day.
"it was bad, wasn't it?" Wilhelm asked, leaning on her door frame.
"it was a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day." each word sounded as defeated as the girl felt.
"wanna hug it out?" he knew that sometimes a hug cured most things, specially for someone like her that'd grown up a bit distant from affection.
"why not?" there wasn't strength left to resist.
so they hugged and Wil tried to transmit as much strength or peace of mind as he could for he had the privilege of knowing Eileen. and because of that, he was aware she would take care of all necessary paperwork before leaving.
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as her favorite Polish walked out, pouring rain being heard from the outside, she meditated in how good it was to do such a good job. yes, it was a pain when you were who people came to you but they did that out of trust. specially with this show, there was an incredible bond of love and trust poured between everyone, making their situation all that much sadder.
even if it costs whatever's left of my sanity, I'll find a way.
so as everyone left to their homes, in preparation for their two presentations tomorrow, Eileen remained in her little office for a while, filing paperwork, dealing with the aftermath of today's accidents and leaving everything ready for herself so as not to make what was sure to be a bad mood even worse.
notifications a message from TYTTÖ at 22:17 two messages from BRAT at 23:46
BRAT it's almost midnight and ya haven't called to let me know you're home so I'll assume you're still there being your normal, slightly workaholic self.
don't be stupid to go out on this rain alone and please get an Uber.
her body didn't even have what it took to be offended by him, choosing to drag through the process of gathering what needed to go home instead. deciding to speed things up, her fingers tapped away to call an Uber.
"forty seven whole dollars? this is garbage." the app was a blessing most days, except for exorbitant prices when it rained.
what happened next was another cherry on top of her already bad day. some of the lovely water falling down made her contacts fall out, such was it's force.
"I sure hope Wil does not kill me." her words fell out nearly silent against a sudden clap of thunder. "please pick up you phone."
"hello?" oh, this was not Wilhelm. this was definitely not him.
"Aaron?" how stupid must he think she was.
"yes. I mean, you are who called me." there were people talking on his end, probably congratulating each other for another successful show.
any other day, Eileen's Irish pride would've thrown the idea on her mind on fire. however it was cold, the coat worn by her had gotten super wet and it would probably result in a cold.
"it's cold, raining and I am this close to crying." Aaron suddenly pushed away from his friends. "Uber is so expensive and work was hell and then my contacts fell out and..."
![[3] COME ON, EILEEN | A. TVEIT ✔️](https://img.wattpad.com/cover/204423580-64-k475001.jpg)