Chapter Text
Adora sat back and scrolled through her page, refreshed to see the views pile up before taking a sip from her coffee. She frowned; the performance was a little lackluster compared to usual, but it would have to do.
She switched tabs to look up Billboard, the page unchanged from yesterday, but that would likely change in a couple of hours. She couldn’t help but smile, slouching in her chair to drink again as she closed her browser. For now, at least, she was free.
While the café wasn’t the most peaceful environment in the city of Etheria, Adora loved the noise. She tried her best to steady herself from beneath her padded hoodie and sunglasses, careful not to draw attention as she made herself a spectator to the hissing of brews among boisterous conversations coming from the kitchen. She noticed the customer at the counter, the way her platinum curls strayed from her shoulder whenever she complimented the barista. Adora chose to ignore the fan merch tee the woman now held in her hands as her attention shifted to the guy behind the counter, how his eyes lit up whenever the choppy bell sounded from the entrance. He and his co-worker, the girl with the pink hair who recognized her as a regular and never messed up her order, were a tumultuous pair, always bickering over some mistaken call or deliberating what would attract more customers or what needed to be fixed. Still, Adora almost envied their freedom.
She sighed as she felt her phone buzz in her hands, a reminder that the noise was only temporary here. Adora got up from her chair and disposed of her cup before stepping outside, bracing herself to take the call from her manager.
“Hello?” she said almost hesitantly, already expecting a scolding for relaxing too quickly, though the voice remained silent for a moment before responding robotically: “You have an interview tomorrow night on Etheria’s Best. Prepare for it promptly, you’ll have an afterparty to attend following the show. Please remember to dress accordingly and tease for the next album.”
Adora paused, Light Hope’s voice becoming a distant vibration as her thoughts rose into agitation. “What?!” she nearly collapsed, the words catching quicker in her throat before she could bring herself to stop them, “The Etheria’s Best?! What are you talking about, any press release isn’t supposed to happen for at least another week, the new single won’t even be ready until after then, hell, it’s not even polished yet, and Light Hope, you can’t possibly expect me to have responses prepared by-” she paused, a sharp click followed by dead air replacing the remaining security in her lungs. She took a breath.
Okay, so, new plan: no more days' relaxation. Instead, maybe a couple of hours of preparation for what could be the biggest moments of her career on the biggest talk show in Etheria. She needed to prepare her clothes, no, she needed to rehearse her vocal cues first, what is it interviewers always asked first again? She rammed her fist into her head, her sexuality, right, of course, there would be speculation about that, even after her five repetitive instances of coming out again and again, she could plan for that, what else? Adora started pacing on the sidewalk closest to the restaurant, her awareness clouded until a collision forced her senses.
“Ack!” She felt herself stumble back, her own feet sweeping from under her, before a hand grabbed onto hers, preventing the drop. She looked up to see a brown-haired woman, sunglasses mirroring her own as she tugged her back up. Adora quickly fell into panic, stumbling on her sentences, “Oh my god! I am so horribly sorry, I wasn’t even paying attention to where I was- oh, I should’ve been paying attention, that was completely my fault, please forgive-”
“It’s alright,” the girl mumbled, letting out a grunt as she withdrew her hand back to her side, causing Adora to just now realize she hadn’t let go before. She picked up a fallen hat from the ground and placed it back over her head, starting to walk away.
“Hey, wait!” Adora called out, the girl’s ear noticeably twitching in response. “That was seriously terrible of me. Please, let me repay you for the accident.”
If the stranger’s eyes could visibly rise from under her shades, Adora assumed that was happening now. “You don’t have to,” she responded plainly, her less pleasant tone becoming more apparent as she turned to walk again. Of course, common courtesy had been abandoned now, though Adora secretly hid the thrill of being treated so normally.
“No, really, I insist. I know the baristas in that café over there, well, at least some of them,” she smiled sheepishly, uncomfortable with the technicality that she wasn’t personally involved with any of them. “I could get you a drink. I’m a regular, so they probably wouldn’t mind at all.”
The stranger scoffed. “I don’t need your pity favors, I know the baristas in that café, too.” She frowned to the ground, as if regretting having revealed that much personal information about herself. “I need to go.” She stepped forward a final time before Adora sighed as loudly as she could, making an effort to be dramatic, having learned from countless years of rehearsals.
“Just take the offer, please. I hate feeling terrible about things like this.” She paused, as if reflecting on her words in the same way her acquaintance had. Finally, after a moment, the girl huffed, turning to look at the building door.
“Fine. But make it quick.”
Adora grinned at the chance to be normal again, mindlessly disregarding the stranger dropping the door on her as she stepped back inside. So, she would have a few fewer hours to prepare for tomorrow; that would be okay. At least it gave her more time to act invisible.
She watched the stranger sit down at a corner table before approaching the chipper barista at the counter, the familiar pink tuft of hair bringing her glance down. “Ah, you’re back! I didn’t expect you again today. Same as always, right?” she inquired, her surprise acting as a comforting expression to Adora as she began to speak, but stopped herself, glancing back at the stranger’s table. “Actually, give me one moment, please, I’ll be right back.” Pink hair nodded, then Adora made her way back to the corner.
“What do you want?” she asked.
“Hm?”
“Your order,” Adora repeated, noticing the distant haze in the woman’s eyes as she scrolled on her phone, the screen hidden from view.
“Oh, right, uh, macchiato, black.”
“Anything else?”
“No,” she shot up quickly, giving Adora a glance that could pierce through time itself.
“Alright then.”
Adora returned with the drink and an additional one for herself, sitting across from the grumpy stranger.
“So, what’s your name?” she continued, trying to fill the silence by clearing her throat and tilting her head down.
“Cy’ra.” a reply, short, brought satisfaction to Adora’s attempt at normal conversation. She scowled for a moment before grumbling. “You?”
“Adora.” It had been an eternity since she remembered saying her own name, beyond the stage appearance she’d given herself all those years ago. She slightly softened; it felt nice, before faltering under the stranger’s gaze. She hoped to Light Hope herself that wasn’t a sign of recognition, her smile growing forcibly strained under the possibility of an expectation.
Despite her worry, the stranger rose to speak. “You said you were a regular here? I’ve never seen you here before.”
Adora gulped. “Right, I usually come during rush hour.”
Cy’ra frowned, Adora just now catching the way the light rested in her heterochromic eyes behind her sunglasses. Had they been two colors when they bumped into each other outside? Perhaps the café lighting was getting to her head, especially since it’d taken five minutes before Adora realized she was staring back. She quickly cleared her throat a second time as the stranger continued to build the tension.
“I see. I work the night shift at my job, that’s when I’m usually here. Just thought it was weird I’ve never seen you on the pickup display before.”
Right. Shit.
“Oh, uh, I use a different name to order.” She took a breath, trying to distract herself from the stranger’s eyebrow raising as she quickly changed the subject. “What do you do for work?”
Her acquaintance stiffened, as if hesitant to answer, before drawing out. “Marketing…or something like that.”
Adora internally sighed, relieved. If there was the faintest trace of being recognized by her, the woman hid it well. Even if that were the case, in the very least, she wasn’t a journalist or reporter or some other over-magnified excuse of a stalking addiction. If she were discovered, she’d be safe. She hadn’t even realized the other had already risen from her seat, heading towards the door. Adora, too, stood up to leave, though a subtle cough distracted her.
“You’ll be back here tomorrow, yeah?” Cy’ra mouthed suddenly, appearing shocked at her own words for what seemed the upteenth time before placing a hand behind her neck.
Startled, Adora nodded quickly. “During rush hour, but yeah. I’m here every day.”
Cy’ra seemed to consider this before nodding in approval, whispering something to herself, and glancing back at her. “Alright, then, tomorrow. I’ll see you again then.”
“Hey, wait, what-”
Before Adora could come up with a response, the mysterious woman was already gone, the half-lidded bell left jingling on the door in her absence. She blinked for a moment, stunned into silence before remembering to glance down at her watch. 5:45. Fucking hell. Light Hope was going to kill her.
Hurriedly, she rushed outside the café, half-finished espresso in hand, as she directed her pace towards her apartment. Whatever just happened, she’d figure it out later; right now, she had an album to finish. A million notions flew through her head, nesting space for more anxieties about the interview. Twenty-four hours, exactly, that was how long she had to do everything perfectly, to hit top billboards, to finish recording, to pick a dress she didn’t wrestle with enough to hate.
Adora’s mind briefly flashed to the heterochromatic gaze of the girl with the razor-shag sitting across from her just moments before. She smiled at the thought, genuinely, the type of thing she reserved for only herself at the height of lonely nights and between even lonelier production shoots. At least she had something to look forward to tomorrow.
‧₊˚♪𝄞࿐₊˚⊹
Catra refreshed her feed, scowling at the screen marker’s consistent display:
BILLBOARD HOT 100™
RANK 1. Princess of Power- SHE-RA
RANK 2. The Giver- SHE-RA
RANK 3. Golden- HUNT/X, KPOP DEMON HUNTERS (SOUNDTRACK) ft. SHE-RA
RANK 4. Black Magic- SHE-RA
RANK 5. F.E.M.M.E.- SHE-RA
RANK 6. Good Luck, Babe!- SHE-RA
RANK 7. Potential Breakup Song- CATRA
RANK 8. Good Luck, Babe!- CHAPPELL ROAN
RANK 9. DTMF- BAD BUNNY
RANK 10. Emperor’s New Clothes- DOUBLE TROUBLE
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” she grimaced, throwing her phone across the room without seeing where it lands, “this is bullshit”.
For the fourth time in the past seven weeks, Catra released a song she’d perfected alongside a series of agencies, her current agent picking her up only from the potential of her own industry revival. It had been a rough couple of years, especially since Shadow Weaver’s strict contracts and deadlines were far less than ideal to perform under, but for the fourth time in the past seven weeks, she’d pushed through it with the hope of making the top charts. Though, for the fourth time in the past seven weeks, She-Ra beat her to the punch.
Who releases six singles within less than a month of one another, anyway? The least obnoxious thing she could’ve done was produce it as an EP and be done with it, but no. That was just the thing with the infamous She-Ra, she always had to be the best in everything, from the shine of her skirt to the poof of her curls, which, if you would’ve asked Catra, was her most obnoxious trait of all. She scoffed, her mind instantly flashing to her most recent hair product commercial. God, who even needed that much conditioner?
Then, of course, there was her whole princess motif, ugh. Every music video she’d ever made from the start of her career boasted her as some grand hero painted against a fantasy setting, always out to save some rebellion or rescue some damsel. Along with a fake pegasus. Barf. The notion made Catra sick to her stomach, reflecting on her own journey from folk to alternative rock over the years. At least hers had experimentation, creativity. Fantasy themes were so oversaturated nowadays.
And then there was her personality outside of music; she scowled deeper. In the past three years of her career, She-Ra had gotten every interview she’d ever wanted, the best and biggest in the country, yet in all of them, she’d seemed so exasperated. Catra noticed the way she tensed between questions, always fidgeting with something in her hands or readjusting her mess of a blowout, which was probably a wig now that she thought about it. Just another scam to her never-ending list of switch and bait tactics, great. She always sounded unsteady, too, like there was this constant trembling beneath the boom in her voice. Catra just couldn’t put her finger on- it was the worst. She never looked pleased. That’s what made it worse. She-Ra had the world’s fanbase at her disposal, an endless plethora of advertisements and networks, but still, she was unhappy. Catra would've burned the world down to be in a position like that; she was so ungrateful. Typical industry POS.
Finally annoyed beyond tolerance, Catra picked up her phone to muffle her thoughts again. She refreshed the page when suddenly, a notification popped up.
‼️REMINDER‼️ - ADORA @ RUSH HOUR, 1:30 PM!!
Oh, right. She grinned, hopping out of bed to get dressed for her arrangement. Her feelings of hatred briefly transitioned to the memory of the day prior, to the girl in the café with the hair poof. She slipped into a black tank top, tying up her hair as she began to search for her sunglasses before opting to grab her contacts instead. Catra frowned, sighing. Hiding her face from her was going to be a bummer, sure, but meeting up a second time was worth seeing the tensing expression on her face. She’d seemed so nervous the day before, stuttering over her words like a child. It was cute.
Still, Catra couldn’t shake the feeling that Adora was hiding something. She’d always been good at that— at reading people even when others couldn’t. For a stranger, she’d been kind enough to share her company, suspiciously kind. Whatever it was, though, she admitted, it was a fun distraction from her resentment.
She grabbed her coat and wallet, ready to meet Adora once again.
It hadn’t taken long for Catra to reach the café, even from the other side of town. She snarked, for once, the wonders of public transportation worked in her favor. Maybe it was a sign.
Already, she could see Adora waiting for her from inside the café, anxiously glancing around in her spot as she decided to sneak up on her.
“Hey, Adora,” Catra said slyly, hovering over the back of Adora’s chair, causing her to jump.
“Oh. My god, Cy’ra, hi,” she replied short of breath, clutching her heart as a strand of hair stumbled from her hair poof. Catra suppressed a smile as she sat across from her. Another cute feature of hers.
“Same as yesterday?” she said nonchalantly, pretending to scroll through her phone to seem casual.
Adora nodded. “Sure, let me just—”
“I got it.” Catra rose before her, cutting her off before she could speak and making her way to the counter. She wondered how many times she could make her speechless today.
She could already see a familiar face in the back working the drive-thru window as she gestured to her, nodding. Instantly, Scorpia lit up, scrambling to finish the order she’d been taking before practically skipping off to the side of the counter.
“Eek, you’re here early! I can’t believe you actually dragged yourself to get up on time, Cat-”
Panicked, Catra quickly cut her off, glaring daggers as she made a shushing sound with her teeth. She looked around, making sure no one, especially Adora, was listening in before sighing in relief.
“I thought I told you to be more careful about saying my name like that,” she scolded, her expression quickly souring at Scorpia’s pout.
“I’m sorry! I completely forgot, Wildcat, I promise I’ll be more careful next time,” the girl responded frantically, lowering slightly beneath Catra’s gaze. The tension remained momentarily before the two of them laughed, incapable of keeping a straight face any longer.
“God, since when have I ever been careful?” Catra jested, shooting Scorpia a cheeky grin as her friend grabbed her stomach to calm herself.
Since the years had flown by, there had never been a moment when Catra hadn’t found herself entrusted to Scorpia. She’d been the one person to call her anything since Shadow Weaver swore her to an oath of privacy, of living doubly. Even after nearly a decade of sarcastic conversations on the playground and late-night gas station sprees, Catra wouldn’t trade their jokes for the end of it.
“That one over there, that yours?” Scorpia asked promptly, nodding to where Adora was now typing on her phone. Catra stiffened coldly, unsure of her response for a moment before clearing her throat.
“She’s new. Invited me to coffee yesterday, thought I’d return the favor.”
“Ah, I see, a caffeine addict, how sweet,” Scorpia continued, the playful lilt in her voice making Catra want to claw her ears out and start laughing all at once, “You want me to get her a drink, too? Glimmer mentioned her being a regular.”
“Please,” she responded curtly, briefly pausing before asking, “Glimmer say anything else about her?”
Scorpia raised an eyebrow, amused. “Why do you ask?”
Catra frowned. “No reason in particular, just curious.”
Her friend turned to prepare the drinks and set them on the counter with a signature swerve, always so full of energy compared to Catra’s dull strides. “You should ask her yourself, y’know. She looks anxious.”
She gestured to Adora again, who was now frowning at a screen and typing her foot furiously. Her ponytail fell loose, Catra noticed, a thing that seemed to happen when she got upset. Interesting.
Catra sighed, picking up the drinks. “Well, what can I say? It was worth a try, thanks, Scorp.” She flashed her friend a cheeky smile before returning to the table, Adora just now raising to meet her eyes.
“Oh my god, I’m so sorry, I’ve been spacing out. How long have you been back for?” the taller girl sputtered out, readjusting the stupid poof in her hair.
“Not long,” Catra paused, watching her leg, “stressed?”
“Coffee helps.” Adora mused, lifting her espresso from the table to take a long sip. “It’s a lot better after the caffeine kicks in.”
“Damn right it is,” she nodded in response, drinking from her own cup in a moment of silence before speaking again. “You get around to anything after this?” she gestured to the busy scene around them, hiding her agitation at the sound of passerbys.
“Oh, uh, just work. Nothing that important,” the girl said, placing a hand under her chin in apparent boredom. “I’d rather not talk about it.”
Catra chose to ignore the evasiveness of her response to a more favorable action. “So you’re free some nights, then?”
Adora raised an eyebrow, contemplating. “Uh, I guess you can say that,” she paused, frowning with a head tilt, “at least after tomorrow. Why do you ask?”
“Are you a fan of music?” Catra nodded downwards, gesturing to the pick on Adora’s necklace. “I saw it yesterday when we fell.”
Adora raised, startled, and clutched the string around her neck. “I play guitar sometimes,” she said softly to herself, as if reflecting on her words. “You play too?”
“I guess you can say that,” Catra answered, mimicking the other’s words with a neutral tone. “I’ve been into rock bands since I was a kid, even used to play in some of them.”
At that, Adora perked up, her eyes sparkling with questions. “Wow, really? That’s awesome, I’ve always wanted to play in a band,” she halted, changing the subject, “I’m more into music I can dance to, but rock’s cool, too.”
“Pft, you can dance to rock music. Ever heard of a mosh pit?” Catra teased, finally smiling.
“Vaguely,” Adora lowered her head, “never been to one personally, though. Heard it’s rough.”
“Oh, it’s rough, alright, rougher than rough. Like a death cage on steroids,” she continued proudly, placing a hand close to her heart, “safe to say I’ve survived through enough of them to see a few injuries. There was this one guy who broke someone’s arm at the last one I was in, it was sick as hell.”
Adora-ble giggled, raising a hand to her mouth; cute. “Oh my god, that sounds terrible. Are they okay?”
Catra shrugged as she leaned back. “It’s the culture of the pit, mosh or be moshed. It’s pretty fun to be honest.” She hesitated before continuing, cursing before she could stop another offer from rising to the surface, “I could bring you to one, if you're interested, I mean. I have connections with a few higher-up production teams and their uh…artists. I can take you during opening act sometime.”
The girl raised a brow, repeating the statement. “You want me to follow you into a mosh pit? What, are you trying to kidnap me for company now?” she joked, no clear malice in her accusation.
“Kidnap? No. I won’t make any promises to keep you safe in there if something bad happens, but I can get you around. Just don’t expect me to hold your hand if you get scared,” she said smugly, tilting her chin up as Adora scoffed defensively.
“Hey, I’m not scared! I just want to know why,” she frowned, “I thought you just wanted to repay me for the drinks from yesterday.”
“Maybe I did,” Catra began, “but now I want to take you to a mosh pit. Your choice, take it or leave it, regular.”
“Fine.” Adora sighed, exasperated as she took another sip of her espresso. She leaned forward in her chair to stretch while Catra took out a poster from her bag, passing it to her.
“Here.”
Curiously, the girl took the paper from her hands, eyes widened slightly. “Woah, wait, you know the crew at Thaymor Stadium?! That’s huge.”
Catra watched her eyes linger on the face of the performing artist with a smirk. “Yup, and that’s the opener,” she gestured to the bottom of the page, where a smaller headshot of Bot, Shield, & Laser was. “The concert starts at 9 PM on Thursday. I’d get there early if I were you.”
Adora paused, an almost recognizable glint crossing her features before she grinned and confirmed with herself, “Okay, Thursday at 9. Got it, I can make that.”
Satisfied, Catra picked up her phone to scroll, leaning back against the wood of her chair. The two of them remained in silence for the coming moments, but it was calm even with all the people around driving her to her last nerve. It was almost blissful.
She glanced down to see an updated billboard chart, her single two ranks higher than release, yes! For once, Shadow Weaver wouldn’t be on her case, so she could relax, and with company no less. The universe really was on her side today, finally.
It took long enough for it to catch up.