Freja had noticed a lot of new faces at the recent shows. Arizona was very rational about it and said that the girls weren’t competition because, “no one can out-Frej, Freja.”
Freja had no idea what this meant, but it made her feel better.
Arizona had suggested that while she was walking in the show, Freja could distract herself by getting to know the new girls. A little shy, Freja got some props from food services; a glass of OJ and some grapes. She would share them with one of the new girls and make her feel at home. Arizona would like this plan, Freja thought to herself.
Then Freja saw Wixson and the plan went out the window.
“Hi Wixson,” Freja said, approaching Wixson with her food and drink in hand.
“Hi Freja!” Wixson said, excited to meet one of the biggest names in the business, “I like how mean you looked on the runway,” Wixson said. Freja decided to take this statement as a compliment.
“I have a question,” Freja said, coy, “Have you ever seen Speed?”
Wixson stared off into space a moment and then said, “Once at a party Charlotte showed me a bag with-“
“-no. The movie. Have you seen “Speed” the movie?” Freja clarified.
“Oh. No. Momma said there was too much violence in it,” Wixson responded.
“Okay, that’s weird, but whatever, the point is, in Speed, the bus had to keep up a certain speed or it would explode.”
“Why?” Wixson asked.
Freja paused. “Becau- well. They- um. Whatever, because that’s how things are.”
“Oh,” Wixson said, regretting her monthly metro card.
“And someone did that same thing at this show! Like in Speed,” Freja said, acting dramatic,” We’re all in trouble here!”
“Oh no. We’re in trouble? Like the time I ate that Christmas poinsettia?” Wixson asked.
“Worse! If someone doesn’t hold this OJ and these grapes and pretend to be a statue for the rest of the day, we’re all going to blow up.”
Wixson’s eyes went wide.
“I wish someone here was brave enough to do it,” Freja said.
“Probably Arizona,” Wixson suggested.
“No!” Freja yelped. She would never betray her desert queen.
“Okay, I think I will do it,” Wixson said, taking the glass of OJ and the grapes.
Arizona bounced backstage and before next her dress change. She stopped and looked at Wixson, then looked at Freja. “Oh no. Why is Wixson pretending to be a grape tree?” Arizona asked.
“Because Speed,” Wixson responded, deadly serious.
***Note: This is a work of fiction***