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Saffron is secretly thankful that the costume woman insisted she wear matching gloves because her palms are sweating like hell and she hopes to god that Brendon does not notice because who the hell likes sweaty palms? She's as nervous as heck and it doesn't help that Ryan is standing very close behind on the stage, guitar in hand. No, no, she reminds herself she does not get nervous, not in front of a large crowd of people, especially not in front of a famous band, even if she cannot name one of their song titles. That is the perfectionist within her, and she hates that it chooses today to come out, full blast.

The director (she doesn't care to find out his name) approaches her from out of nowhere as Brendon assumes his spot on the stage. "Alright, Sally-"

"Saffron"

"-Saffron, you are the It Girl of the club," he tells her, ignoring the confused look on her face, "you're the girl all the men want to dance with, but you're just bored with them all and only have eyes for Brendon, who will leave the bandstand to dance with his sweetheart." Saffron just knows Brendon's listening in on their conversation and smirking to himself. "Got it, Sarah?"

"Saffron," she corrects, rolling her eyes, "and, yes, yes, of course. I mean, you went over it with me yesterday. And on the phone. And during my audition."

"Beautiful, Sasha," says the director, nudging her first dance partner in Saffron's direction.

"Hey, I'm Joe, and I'm probably the best guy you'll be dancing with today," he says with a wide smile. He says no more when she gives him a blank stare, her mouth but a straight line. She simply nods and heads to the back of the room for her big entrance. The music starts, the cameras roll, and Joe is completely taken aback as Saffron's entire face lights up upon entry, surveying the room for her first guy, milking the role for all its worth.

Ryan, of course, is the most surprised, though he tells himself he should be, because Saffron said herself that she was-what was that? Oh, she was 'hardcore theatre.' He tries not to smirk at the thought because one camera is panning across the room and might catch him. He maintains his focus on the dancer as her eyes flick over her latest partner in disgust, just as Brendon jumps off the stage to grab her by the waist.

There is a funny twinge in the pit of his stomach, but he simply assumes that it's his perpetual hunger speaking to him. Once again, he reminds himself that she's acting when she gladly accepts Brendon's hand, and that she isn't giving him a genuine smile, and that she's still in high school and he would probably get into a little bit of trouble if he-Wait, Ryan is getting a little to ahead of himself. Anyway, he scarcely knows this girl, this snappish, perplexing, blunt, daunting and... terribly gorgeous girl.

The director yells cut and Saffron smile disappears as she leaves Brendon without a word, in search of food, glorious food. She's starving and cannot wait to rip off this dress and take a shower and curl up in bed to watch her movie musical marathon on Turner Classic Movies.

Her head is fuzzy and a voice draws her out of her trance, and how did she end up sitting down with a plate with a mountain of food? "Huh?"

"Did you just say you wanted to rip your clothes off?" An amused smile spreads across Ryan's face just before he takes a big bite of the sandwich in his hand.

Oh, right, she forgot about that annoying tendency to make her thoughts vocal. Saffron raises her eyebrows, scratching the skin on the back of her neck, right under the strap of her halter dress. "Among other things, though I'm sure that's the only part you caught." She winks before taking a large gulp of water, wondering why on earth she just winked.

"I'm probably that transparent, aren't I?" Ryan asks, nonchalantly slipping into the chair across from her, eyeing the pile of food on her tray.

"Yeah, pretty much." And, Saffron is well aware that he is staring, feeling the need to explain herself, though why should there be a reason other than hunger? "I have a... fast metabolism," she murmurs, delicately (she hopes) munching on her own chunk of sandwich. A sort of awkward, sort of comfortable silence falls between the pair before Ryan spots her iPod sticking out of her purse.

"Can I?" He wonders, reaching for it as she nods, looking rather confused. He immediately scrolls up and down her album list, barely recognizing a thing: "Sweeney Todd, Kiss Me Kate, Company, Anything Goes, Into the Woods," he reads, "The Last Five Years, Assassins, Drowsy Chaperone, Les Miserables-"

"You're on there too, if you were wondering," she cuts in, blushing against her will, "well, I have that, er, one song..." Saffron trails off as he plugs himself into the music player. She watches his face go from serious and intent to utterly perplexed. "What are you playing?"

"Um," he checks the screen, "'Getting Married Today.'" He tries to concentrate on the seemingly senseless, mile-a-minute babble of the nervous bride in the song before Saffron takes the iPod and switches it to another song.

"You might like this one better," she explains as discordant notes and a panicky tune fill his ears. "Sweeney Todd, the demon barber of Fleet Street. It's awfully dark grisly and one of my absolute favorites. Sondheim's an utter genius," she sighs. A grin spreads across Ryan's face as he continues to listen attentively and Saffron leans back with a satisfied smile.
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Saffron is whisked away to costume once more as they poke needles into her dress bodice and flatten out her skirt and make her change her stockings and clean her shoes while others muss her hair and then fix it again. She's frowning all the while, but not because of their manhandling- it's because of the news the director (Bob, she found out his name was) is delivering to her.

"Burst of inspiration, baby," He calls her baby because he cannot remember her name for his life. "You know the part where you take Brendon out of the club because your mob boss paid you to kill him? Well, I decided that it would be loads better if you were both passionately necking. Isn't that what you kids call it? Snogging? So, you've got the knife in your garter and passionately kissing and you're about to stab him, but you absolutely can't!" He looks at her for a response of some sort.

Saffron merely blinks as her hair is redone.

"And, you've got to break down, baby, just let it all out! Cry! Beat against his chest!" Bob smiles widely, nodding vigorously at Saffron before rushing away to inform Brendon of this slight change of video plot.

Saffron immediately regrets meeting his eyes from across the room, wanting to smack that big, satisfied smirk off his pretty face. It's not that she doesn't like him, because she quite enjoys their snarky repartee- it's because she's as nervous as hell.
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Notes: OOOHER. I just complicated things. XD Thanks so much for the happy reviews! Hope you all had a good holiday!