Chapter Text
Willing to get closer to the sun
Flapping of the burnt wings
My miserable appearances
Only then I learnt my new days
The last thing Regina Mills had ever said to Emma Swan was that she was jealous of her.
That she was obsessed with her.
Which couldn't be further from the truth.
“Emma, you say that, but it's…what? Four a.m.? And we are still talking about her?” Ruby wiped sweat (and probably some sugary drinks) off her forehead. “Jesus, can you turn the heat down?”
Emma shook her head.
“I’m cold.”
Ruby probably rolled her eyes at that, but Emma didn't turn to look. She just gripped the steering wheel of her bug even tighter, trying to kick Regina out of her mind. She was already pretty upset from being dragged out to some shitty club, and now Ruby brought up this?
“I didn’t realize you still…disliked each other so much,” Ruby muttered after a tense minute of silence passed. “...Look, I'm sorry for bringing her up.”
“Yet, you still did.”
Sometimes it pained Emma that Ruby and Regina still talked. Which, to be honest, was stupid of her. The two of them didn't talk like…Ruby still talked to Belle. Or Emma with Mulan. Why should she care that her friend would send Regina a Christmas card every year? That every birthday Regina would send Ruby a bouquet of flowers? Ruby didn’t know the full story. Barely anyone did.
Silence enveloped them again.
“Emma…I am just saying that it's gonna be the tenth anniversary in like, a week. The press is gonna be all over that, and I just think you should-”
Emma reached over and turned the knob for the radio on. Heavy 80s rock started to blare over her friends' words. Ruby didn't try to continue.
Today marks the Tenth Anniversary of Emma Swan leaving GRIMMÉ, the popular fairytale-themed girl group, about two years into the height of their stardom.
The group, consisting of Emma Swan, Ruby Lucas, Regina Mills, Fa Mulan, and Belle French, debuted thirteen years ago to immediate success. Swan never revealed why she had left the group, but instead, she found a flourishing solo career. Many assumed it was either the rumored and often fan-specified issues with the groups leader, Regina Mills, or Emma’s solo popularity that spurred the singer to go off on her own.
The other members have found success in-
Emma stopped reading. The words were starting to blur together on the tiny pixelated screen, and her eyes couldn't handle it. Ignoring the multiple notifications from her publicist and manager, she threw her phone on her bed and got up. It was way too early in the morning, her neighbor's lawn guy was mowing the lawn, and her head was pounding. Padding downstairs, she grabbed a bottle of water, some Advil, told the Alexa to put on her workout playlist (aka a bunch of Nirvana), and immediately got on the treadmill.
Running was her therapy. Always had been. Emma ran as a child; during gym class, when she would go out of her way to try and beat all the boys (because nothing was better than being the small, scrawny girl outrunning all the jerks). Or when she had to get away from shit foster siblings and parents over and over again. She ran as a teenager because Cora refused to let her lift weights, because no one wanted to see a muscly “princess”. It was easy to turn her brain off, to fall into the distorted guitar riffs, and run. Eventually, her legs would be burning, her lungs gasping for air as she chugged the majority of her water bottle in one gulp, and two hours had passed. Lily always told her she overdid it, but Emma didn't listen.
Looking at the time on her stove, Emma realized that it was probably time to look at those texts. Pulling a towel out of a hall closet, Emma patted the sweat off her chest as she went back upstairs. It was soon dropped off on the growing pile of laundry in her bedroom. Sighing, she picked up her phone and groaned at the messages.
Lily
Like A million people want to interview btw.
Lily
Ems hello???
Lily
Girl. wake up.
Emma ignored all of Lily's messages and instead moved on to her manager. Ingrid, a lifeline that Emma probably relied on far too much, had sent her one single long text. She was considerate like that.
Ingrid
I have another brand deal with that shoe brand you like. Contracts are being written up, and you most likely will have to do a few video ads. Short form; not too much, little talking. There are still issues with the upcoming tour; they should be ironed out soon. Please check your emails more often, I can’t keep chasing you down. Please also answer Lilith about doing the interviews regarding the anniversary of your Grimme departure. She’ll advise you on what you should do, but it is my personal opinion that you should do what feels best. It’s been ten years, they can't do anything to you. Keep me updated. - Ingrid.
Emma swallowed an odd lump in her throat. Whether that ‘they’ was the media, or Cora and Gold. She sent Ingrid a thumbs-up and then sat there.
Emma was a private person. At least that was how she had always described herself. Back in the day, when the god awful ‘Myrrors’ speculated on every little bit of her when she was literally a minor, they marketed it as her fans breaking down her walls. She hated interviews. She hated talking about that time in her life.
Gold was doing…whatever with Belle in Australia with her acting. Cora… Cora and Regina fell off the face of the earth around the time Emma did.
Ten years ago, Emma made the biggest decision in her life. Bigger than when she agreed to audition for a random lady who picked her off the street.
She started to reply to Lily before immediately deleting the message. Emma had no idea what ‘felt best’. Emma felt numb.
about fourteen years ago.
The butterflies in her stomach were going crazy. Emma still could hardly believe that this was her life now. She was really going to make music. Her.
She was proving that asshole kid from two foster families ago that he was wrong. Emma Swan was going places. She was making something of her life.
A hand squeezed her shoulder. She turned her head around.
Cora Mills gave her a tight-lipped smile, and Emma realized she probably had just spent two minutes staring at a doorknob.
“Nervous, dear?” Words not finding her lips, Emma mutely nodded. Cora squeezed her shoulder tighter, the acrylic nails she wore digging in. “No need. There are only two other girls in there. One being my daughter, and she’ll guide you.”
“Sorry…”
She reached out and finally turned the doorknob. The room was a simple dance practice room. There were mirrors covering three out of the four walls from floor to ceiling. Two girls, both brunettes, were sitting in a corner together, a pile of food between them. When they noticed that Cora had arrived, they both stood up extremely fast.
The one on the left was really tall. She had red streaks in her long, straight brown hair, heavy black makeup all over her eyes, and baggy clothes. But they aren't…baggy like Emma’s. They were cool-baggy. She also wore an early 2000s airbrushed wolf shirt - but it was cropped and hung off her shoulder in an effortless way.
And the other girl was…really pretty. She was obviously a few years older than Emma. She was wearing those expensive leggings that girls in Emma’s high school wore - the ones that tended to hate Emma.
“Girls, this is Emma.” The wolf girl smiled and gave Emma a little wave. She waved back. Cora continued, “Emma, this is Ruby, and my daughter Regina.”
“Hi.” The one-word syllable squeaked out. God, she needed to get it together.
“I’ll leave you all to talk.” Cora gave them all one last cold smile before exiting the room.
“How old are you?” Regina, finally speaking, asked. Her tone…it wasn’t outright mean per se, but it wasn’t nice either. Emma internally bristled, already feeling iced out. Of course the daughter of the lead creative director would be an ass.
“I turn sixteen in October.”
Regina rolled her eyes. “Amazing.”
Ruby rolled her eyes right back before stepping forward and grasping Emma’s hands. “We have heard all about you. I am excited to hear this so-called angel of a voice.” Her smile was genuine.
“Uh…” Cora really hyped her up that much? “Wow, that is some really high praise.”
Regina sat back on the ground, her short hair falling in front of her face as she pulled out a smartphone.
“Two more girls.” She was typing pretty furiously on the phone.
Emma’s brow furrowed. “For the group?”
Regina looked up, her brown eyes making the little hairs on Emma’s arm stand up.
“Yes, Swan. What else would I mean?”
Ruby, who was still holding Emma’s hands, giggled. “Ignore her, she’s cranky. Her mom made her get up at six a.m.”
All she could do was weakly smile.