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shireness-says · 6 years

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Playing the Part ch. 4: Stick to the Status Quo

Summary: As a stage manager who’s clawed her way up from bottom, Emma Swan can handle just about anything thrown her way. But does that include handsome lead actor Killian Jones? A CS Broadway AU. Rated T. Also on AO3. Prologue Ch. 1 Ch. 2 Ch. 3

Title pulled from High School Musical, because my excellent beta @snidgetsafan (thanks as always!) suggested it and it was a little too perfect to pass up. It's performed by schools across the nation every year, so I say it still counts.

I haven't done so lately, so I think this is a good time to remind people that my theater experience is all on the community theater level, not the professional level. Things that happen in this chapter or in this fic may or may not be realistic, leaning towards the latter. I hope you enjoy it anyways as a lovingly crafted piece of fiction.

Tags: @kmomof4, @winterbaby89, @thejollyroger-writer, @mythologicalmango, @onceuponaprincessworld, @idristardis, @teamhook, @courtorderedcake, @aerica13, @revanmeetra87, @snowbellewells, @searchingwardrobes. If you want to be tagged going forward (or taken off this list - I won’t be insulted!), shoot me a message, and I’ll make it happen.

Enjoy!

Tuesday starts alright (at least as much as Tuesday mornings ever do). As everyone involved in the production has fallen into a new routine at the theater, Emma’s stress level has dropped significantly. The creases are slowly being ironed out on the tech side, the cast is fully off-book, the choreography looks fantastic, and she had even managed to get home in time to hang out with Henry for a little bit before his bedtime. Not bad for a Monday - and hopefully a pattern that sets the tone of the rest of the week.

Henry does trip her up a little at breakfast. It’s early still, but Emma had wanted to make breakfast for once - sort of as a “thanks for being a great and patient kid” gesture, since she knows it’s been a hectic few weeks and not likely to get any better. Nothing special, but Henry really loves the pancakes from the box, and she cooks up a few slices of bacon to go with. Unsurprisingly for a boy his age, Henry falls upon the meal like he hasn’t eaten in a week. Emma’s not complaining; it means he’ll be sent off to school with a hearty breakfast instead of the usual Pop-Tarts or toaster waffles, and they’ve never been much for leftovers.

Breakfast conversation (or at least what passes for it with a halfway awake ten-year-old) is happy, if predictable - talk about upcoming tests and projects, how his friends are doing and the like - before Henry turns the conversation back around on her.

“So, is it going better?” he asks. The words are seemingly normal, even casual, but something is setting off Emma’s mom alarms all the same.

“Yeah, we’re all settling into a routine. Still on schedule,” she replies. “Any particular reason you’re asking?”

“No, no, just… making conversation,” Henry hurries to answer. After a pause to shovel more pancakes into his mouth, he continues his inquiries in a almost painfully casual tone of voice. “So… have you seen a lot of Killian lately?”

Emma casts her son a suspicious look, grabbing the plate of bacon before answering his question. “I see him every day at rehearsals, but not any more than the rest of the cast. Why, should I have?”

Ok, that last part isn’t strictly true. Killian has a way of showing up when she least expects him to, often to offer his assistance on things he doesn’t strictly need to concern himself with. But Henry doesn’t need to know that. Hell, Emma doesn’t know how she feels about that - no need to drag her kid into that.

“Oh, no, definitely not,” Henry hurries to add in a move directly stolen from Mary Margaret. “Just, you know, I had a great time hanging out with him the past couple of days. He’s a really nice guy.”

It’s the emphasis that really drives home Henry’s intentions, and Emma groans loudly when she realizes. “Aw, kid, not you too.”

“I’m just saying!” Henry protests, loudly and enthusiastically. “He’s super nice, and he totally has a thing for you.”

“How do you even know that?” Emma demands.

Henry just shrugs in return. “Robin says so.”

That elicits another groan from Emma. God, this is not the conversation she wanted to be having with her kid this morning. “When were you even hanging out with Robin? And don’t get me started about how you two are apparently gossiping like a pair of sorority girls.”

“We were not!” Henry tosses back, affronted at the mere suggestion. “And you were doing something else. Talking with Scarlet, maybe? I don’t know. Robin’s a cool guy, he’s teaching me about the light board. And he says Jones is totally smitten with you.”

“Well Robin needs to watch his fat mouth,” Emma grumbles petulantly.

“Would it be so bad?” Henry says, switching gears to that pouting routine Emma is usually weak for. “I’m a big kid now, you know, you don’t need to drop everything for me anymore.”

“I’ll always drop everything for you,” Emma promises solemnly, choosing to ignore Henry’s point.

In return, her son just rolls his eyes. “Yeah yeah, I know. Super-Mom or whatever. I’m just saying… if you wanted to go out and have a life… I’d be fine with it.”

That’s her kid - trying to look out for his mom, even when she doesn’t ask for it. “I’ll keep that in mind, kid.”

Emma thinks the subject has been exhausted, but with a mischievous smirk, Henry lobs one more verbal missile. “And if you are going to get out there on the dating scene… I do really like Killian.”

Emma affectionately sticks her tongue out at her son in retaliation before shoving the bacon plate back under his nose. “Yeah, yeah, yeah. Eat your breakfast.”

The thing is, early morning heart-to-hearts over pancakes have a way of lingering, and even if Emma had brushed off Henry’s prodding at the time, she finds herself still thinking about those words when she arrives at rehearsal. Her son is a great kid to be so concerned about her and her social life, but it’s not like she’s lonely or something. Honestly, she doesn’t have the time; she’s got great working relationships and a great kid and some pretty great friends (even if Mary Margaret is concerningly optimistic and Ruby can sometimes drive her nuts). Sure, she hasn’t really been in a relationship since Henry was born - a few flings on the weekends Henry was with Neal, a smattering of dates that never went further - but she’s not desperate for a man in her life. Emma’s got everything she needs, just the way things are now.

Of course, that doesn’t stop her from thinking dangerous and romantic things when Jones shows up with her daily hot chocolate and a smile. She may not need anyone, it’s true, but maybe Henry has a point. It could be nice, to actually be involved in an adult relationship. Killian really is a nice guy, handsome to boot, and, as pointed out by far too many people in her life, clearly besotted with Emma. When Killian grins at her as she takes that first marvelous sip from the cheap to-go cup, Emma finds herself thinking: would it really be that bad?

The answer, of course, is yes. The fact still remains that they work together. If Emma has one hard and fast rule for her non-existent love life, it’s not to mix business with pleasure - regardless of Jones’ feelings, regardless of Henry and Robin’s less-than-subtle hints (and God forbid Ruby or Mary Margaret catch wind of those conversations), and definitely regardless of any attraction Emma may or may not feel towards the man (because honestly, the more time she spends in his company, the more she’s moving away from no and towards yes, absolutely yes). So, despite everyone’s wishful thinking on that matter, the answer is still that it would be an awful idea.

(It won’t stop her from thinking about it, though.)

Thanks to that breakfast conversation with Henry, the morning isn’t going at all the way Emma had planned. But still, it’s got all the potential to be a good one all the same.

Of course, that all goes to shit by noon. Zelena has remained a problem, one Emma has known for a couple of weeks now that they’ll have to deal with, but Emma had been hoping she’d restrain herself to the status of a nuisance instead of actively working against the interests of the production. However, luck seems to have deserted them in that regard. Emma is consistently confused by the amount of criticism that Zelena is able to offer, considering the size of her part. Caroline Bingley is certainly an important role, but it’s not a sizable one - really only a few scenes and portions of two songs. And yet, the redhead has something negative to say about seemingly every moment of it. The best Emma can figure is that Zelena must have greatly inflated the role in her head, to the point that she’s decided that she knows best, and everyone else will think the same way.

“She’s a large character, darling,” Zelena is telling Merlin in that condescending voice she’s perfected. “I’m only doing what best suits the script.”

“Actually, I’ve got the same script as you do, and there’s hardly any direction for Caroline,” Merlin tells her yet again, a tired argument by this point. “Miss Bingley, while we all think her efforts and motives are a bit cartoonish, is all about the subtle dig, hiding her bite behind impeccable manners and passive aggression. Like I’ve told you before, I need you to tone all of your reactions down unless I specifically direct you otherwise. You’re wildly overacting.”

It’s only then that things become more heated, Zelena huffing dramatically as her voice reaches new piercing pitches. “Well any director worth his salt, one with a little more experience, would clearly understand my acting decisions, and see that they’re superior choices for the good of the production.”

“I’m sorry you feel that way,” Merlin replies agreeably enough, apparently still trying not to engage beyond what is strictly necessary or stoop to her level of unprofessionalism. “However, as long as you’re part of this production, we’ll be doing things my way.”

The rest of the room is dead quiet as Zelena makes more and more of a scene. Most expressions vary from shocked to irritated to slightly scared on some of the younger cast members, though Emma spots an amused glint in Killian’s eye as their gazes meet. Honestly, he probably has the right idea; view this whole display as the ridiculous spectacle it is, instead of turning it into an even larger drama. Back at the proverbial center stage of the unfolding drama, Emma can see Zelena drawing herself up to a haughty stance, clearly preparing to deliver what she thinks will be a damning blow.

“Any other inexperienced director would appreciate my generous contributions. Frankly, your blatant disregard for my superior understanding of the character you hired me to inhabit makes me think you want this production to fail. Well, I won’t be around to see it.” Zelena dramatically flings her prop into the wings, a well-made ladies’ fan that Emma is concerned won’t stand up to being thrown. Hopefully Scarlet is around to catch it. “You can consider this my resignation! Rest assured, everyone will know about how poorly you’re directing this.” Zelena begins to stalk off the stage to her (now former) dressing room, before dramatically turning back to add a last word. “You’ll never find anyone to replace me with even a quarter of my raw talent!”

And in a final twirl of fabric, Zelena Mills exits their stage forever. Good fucking riddance.

Of course, that relief lasts for less than a minute before Emma remembers that holy shit, they’re weeks out from previews and one of their major cast members just quit.

Faintly through the blood rushing in her ears she can hear Merlin dismissing everyone for an early and extended lunch break, but Emma’s far too focused on the quickly intruding panic to process much else. As everyone else disperses, Emma all but collapses into one of the velvet-covered theatre seats. God, this could be the end of it all. Zelena is undeniably a pain in the ass, but she wasn’t underselling how difficult it would be to replace her on such short notice. Not to mention, the publicity… if Emma knows anything about Zelena, it’s that she won’t be making a quiet exit. No, Miss Mills’ style tends more towards the dramatic, towards making the biggest splash, and Emma won’t be at all surprised if she sees their production’s misfortune plastered across several websites and magazines by the end of the week. Not to mention how opening night creeps closer and closer, and their Thanksgiving Parade appearance before that… The more Emma thinks about any facet of this fiasco, the more she realizes that this is an absolute nightmare from every angle - in terms of time, publicity, practicality, and everything else.

Oh god, what are they going to do?

———

This morning’s rehearsal has certainly been… eventful, Killian reflects, watching Zelena make her dramatic exit. He can’t honestly say that he’s sorry to see the woman leave; in fact, he thinks it’s about time. Every day spent dealing with that woman was a Production in its own right, one that distracted from the hard work necessary to put together the real production they were all hired to create. Sure, Zelena’s departure might create some stress and possibly some delays in the short term, but Killian is confident that Merlin and Emma will lead them through it. Especially Emma.

The thing is, he’s not sure that Emma is quite as confident in that as he is. It takes a few minutes to find her after Zelena’s dramatic exit, distracted by the event and the ensuing rumble of brewing gossip, but when he does, Emma’s face is white as a sheet and she’s collapsed into a seat on a side aisle, panic written plainly across her face. At this point, crossing the room to join her is an irrepressible compulsion. Since admitting to himself his feelings for Emma, Killian hasn’t even tried to curb his impulse to assist her in any way she allows.

She clearly hasn’t noticed him, eyes glazed over with a million racing thoughts. She does, though, when Killian less-than-subtly throws himself into the neighboring chair, effectively shaking half the row and snapping Emma out of her reverie. He means to say something clever, something witty and funny, but seeing her still-anxious expression, Killian takes slight pity on her, offering a reassurance instead.

“It’s going to be alright, you know,” he tells her, injecting his voice with every ounce of confidence he feels.

Emma snaps her head around to meet his eyes, her incredulity apparent for all to see. “Is it? ‘Cus it sure doesn’t feel that way.”

“Of course,” he shrugs, calm as a quiet sea. “I’ve yet to see you fail.”

It’s meant to be reassuring, to give Swan her own boost of confidence, but instead it only seems to discourage her further. “Yeah, well, stick around,” she mutters gloomily.

“Oh come on Swan, we’ll manage. It’s not so bad.” That’s not strictly true, but Killian really doesn’t think this roadblock will be a death knell to the entire enterprise. At this point, he’s willing to say just about anything to pull Emma out of her bleak outlook on the whole affair.

Though he certainly achieves his goal of dispelling Emma’s blind panic, she instead whirls towards him in sudden anger over his latest words. “Yeah? Well, I’m stuck having to find a way to solve a major problem in a matter of days before it seriously sets us back, so I’m sorry if I don’t share your weird laissez-faire attitude about the whole thing. You might not be affected, but I sure as hell am, and I’m going to have to deal with the fallout!”

It’s quite the reaction - more of an explosion, really. Killian is just glad most people have already filed back to their dressing rooms or out to lunch, minimizing the witnesses to Emma’s outburst and the embarrassment she’ll likely feel later. He can’t resist raising a questioning eyebrow at her comments, however; Emma’s suggestion that Killian wouldn’t be affected by the sudden cast upheaval is especially ridiculous, considering his status as a major actor in the production.

Emma seems to process her words at the same time, letting forth a loud groan and dropping her head into her hands. “And now I’m an asshole too, on top of the stress.” Turning her head to look at him, she props her face on one hand, features squashed and distorted by the pressure of her palm. “Do you ever get so caught up in your own problems that you stop thinking about anyone else?”

Killian chuckles drily. “I think that’s just a human thing, love.” He probably shouldn’t have added the endearment, but Emma’s far too distracted by the present circumstances to notice or care.

“Yeah, probably. Still, sorry. I know you have to deal with this too.”

“It’s quite alright, Swan, you’re already forgiven. I understand, anyways - we’re all going to have to deal with this, but you’re the one that takes much of the logistical burden of replacing her.”

“God, don’t remind me,” she groans, face again hidden by her hands. “I just need two minutes to just… not think about this. Ok? Just… don’t remind me for two minutes, and then I will haul myself out of this deceptively uncomfortable chair and go talk to Merlin and attempt not to show the meltdown that’s happening inside. Or, at least, make it a very professional-looking external meltdown.”

Conversation dissolves into a long silence, but Killian can still hear Emma’s rapid breaths. Despite any claims she might make to the contrary, mere avoidance of the topic isn’t doing much to calm her down - just allowing her to retreat into her brain, where he’s sure a full replay of the incident is lurking with a million imagined potential outcomes. Quickly, he searches for something - anything - to distract her with, before settling on an unexpected sight happening just inside the wings, barely visible from their vantage point down in the audience.

“I think I’m hallucinating, Swan. I must be. The stress of it all has finally gotten to me and I’m having a mental breakdown,” he declares, trying to be as deadpan as possible in an attempt to make his blonde companion laugh.

“What the hell are you talking about, Jones?” Emma impatiently sighs. Oops. It seems his phrasing may have backfired a bit. Nothing to do but plow on, now.

“Tell me - is that, or is that not, Will Scarlet attempting to put the moves on poor Belle?”

That certainly catches Emma’s attention, her head snapping up and frantically searching her surroundings. “Where? I don’t see anything.”

“Unless I’m facing the previously discussed hallucination option, right over there. Center wing, stage left,” Killian replies, pointing. When you know where to look, it’s easy to see Scarlet’s cocky stance as he chats with Belle with a smile he must think is charming plastered on his face. The lady, interestingly, doesn’t seem opposed to his attentions; the look on her face is a little skeptical, if amused, but she’s made no move to send Scarlet on his way - a feat she’s more than capable of, regardless of her sweet demeanor.

“Well shit, you’re right,” mutters Emma as she witnesses the interaction. “Didn’t see that coming.”

“Well, we can’t be certain that anything will come out of this.” Killian had intended his words to be hedging, but they come out more snappish than he intended. Swan, of course, notices his tone, shooting him a concerned look.

“I’m not sure why you’re getting adversarial with me about this,” she remarks, causing a small flash of shame to shoot through Killian.

“I know. I’m sorry. I just… I worry about Belle, you know? We’ve gotten close these past weeks. I don’t want her to get hurt.” The word again remains unspoken, but hovers implied over the conversation all the same. They all know what poor Belle has already been through.

Emma smiles in a reassuring manner, absent-mindedly patting his knee in a comforting gesture that still manages to set his heart thumping wildly. Gods above, he’s got it bad for this woman. “If it makes you feel better, Scarlet’s a good guy. I know he’s a little goofy and mouthy, but he’s got a good heart under there.”

“That does help, actually, thank you Swan.”

They watch the possibly budding romance for a few moments longer before they spot Merlin heading over to their little corner, sporting his own worried look. Quickly, Emma recollects all her assorted paraphernalia, preparing for the inevitable meeting addressing how to proceed, but Killian is relieved to see that her face is slightly less panicked, the set of her shoulders marginally less stressed.

It feels even better when Emma turns back to Killian before she leaves, the most tentative of smiles on her face. “Hey, thanks for talking me down or whatever back there. It, uh…” she falters. “It means a lot that you have that confidence in me. Thanks.”

“Anytime, Swan,” he replies, smiling gently. “As I said, I’ve yet to see you fail.”

———

Regardless of Killian’s fantastic pep talk and his seemingly unending faith in her, it’s still a rough, stressful day, any hopes Emma might have for a nice, easy week absolutely shattered. Henry senses her rough day as soon as she gets home, having been directed back to the apartment instead of meeting at the theater after school, and drags her to Granny’s for dinner in a valiant attempt to cheer her up.

(Of course, having to pay for your own cheering-up dinner kind of defeats the purpose, but Henry’s a good kid to try. Not to mention, Granny gives them significant discounts anyways, to the point where Henry probably could have paid out of his allowance if Emma had let him.)

Thankfully, salvation arrives sooner than expected in a pencil skirt and fabulous high-heeled boots, asking in an authoritative voice to speak with Mr. LeMage, please.

As it turns out, salvation is named Regina Mills. Mills, as in the sister of the source of all their problems.

“I’m sure I don’t have to pretend about where I heard about this vacancy from,” Miss Mills the Younger explains. “For what it’s worth, you aren’t the first director she’s caused a fuss with, and you won’t be the last.”

It’s a hollow reassurance. Thankfully, Regina is already passing out resumes, offering them a proposal. “With your permission, I’d like to audition for the role she left. Frankly, I would have auditioned previously, and saved you all this mess, but I was committed to another show that was shuttered due to financial difficulties.”

Merlin raises his brows in surprise before replying. “That’s an awful lot of confidence. How do I know that that… shall we say, excess of confidence won’t result in the same problems that have led us to this conversation?”

Regina scoffs. She’s got presence and attitude, Emma will give her that. “Please. Unlike my sister, I’ve inherited a self-preservational gene that keeps me from actively sabotaging my employment. Not to mention an ounce of common sense.”

“And what are you getting out of this?” Emma thinks to ask. “Even you can’t deny this is unusual, one sister resigning and the other one showing up to make a run at the role.”

“Besides the steady job and a promising script?” Regina asks, her very eyebrows somehow regal as they lift into an elegant arch. “A healthy helping of sibling rivalry. Call me petty, but she’s been bragging about how the role was practically made for her for months. It’s been a bit hard to stomach. I like to think I could do just as good a job, if not better - though ultimately, that’s your decision,” she defers.

Emma hates to admit it, but she’s inclined to believe the regal brunette. She may have strutted in here, but she’s demonstrated an understanding that her sister is a nightmare and gone through the normal steps of seeking a role - providing a detailed resume of her past roles and asking to audition, instead of just assuming she’ll be given the part. Granted, she has effectively jumped the line by coming to see the director before the role was even advertised, but Emma’s willing to overlook that for the moment. They’re in a serious pickle at the moment, and Regina Mills offers a way out; Emma, for one, is willing to give her a chance to try.

Of course, watching Regina audition, she’s perfect - deliciously haughty in that same way her sister was, but with a hint of humanity underneath that makes Caroline Bingley into a real woman - albeit, a selfish one - instead of a cartoon villain.

Merlin’s still a little nervous, but Emma’s got a good feeling about Regina Mills. She’s got the job; now, time will only tell what she does with it.

———

The entire production breathes a sigh of relief with the arrival of their new Caroline - Emma particularly. Killian is himself intensely relieved, though that has less to do with the casting change and more to do with the fact that it removes a heavy weight from Emma’s shoulders.

He likes comforting her, likes being able to relieve her stress in any small way, Killian realizes after that fateful day Zelena stormed out and the even more ground shaking - at least emotionally - conversation that followed. If he’s honest, he wants to play that role on a more permanent basis. Of course, Emma Swan is a tough lass, a damsel who can resolve her own distress, but she shouldn’t have to shoulder that on her own. It’d be a lucky man who could be her emotional support, her shoulder to cry or scream on, and Killian not-so-secretly dreams of filling that role.

Killian wrestles with himself all week over the idea of asking Emma out on some kind of date, weighing Liam’s words of caution and his own common sense against the fanciful wish of his traitorous heart. He’ll admit that it’s likely still a terrible idea, but ultimately, the heart wants what the heart wants.

He’s not fully confident in his suit (though that’s likely more a matter of temperament on his part), but it seems like Emma isn’t necessarily opposed to his attentions. Sure, he probably hasn’t made his interest quite as blatantly obvious as he could have, erring more towards the side of light flirtation in a valiant attempt not to undercut in any way the respect she’s earned in her position, the authority it’s crucial for her to wield. Still, she always seems genuinely happy to see him, pleased by the hot chocolate he brings her whenever he has time, welcoming of his attempts at conversation and lighthearted teasing. Ultimately, that’s enough to encourage him to act, hesitance (and, if you ask Liam, common sense) be damned.

Still, it’s with no small amount of nerves that Killian resolves to ask Emma Friday afternoon after rehearsal wraps up. Things have gotten better as the week has gone on, Regina’s hiring and subsequent excellent work ethic doing much to ease Emma’s stress about the situation from Tuesday.

Gathering his courage, he approaches her as she’s loading up her supply box for the day. Emma seems happy to see him, though not surprised - a sign, perhaps, that his attentions have not gone unnoticed.

“What’s up, Jones?” she asks, curiously but not unkindly.

“Do you have a moment to talk?” he asks, scratching behind his ear - his own personal nervous tic. Does Emma know it’s a nervous tic? God, he hopes not, he’d love not to seem like a nervous wreck for this.

He doesn’t know if its his words or his tic that causes it, but her eyebrows are furrowed in a distinctly concerned way, Swan clearly thinking something is wrong. “Yeah, of course, what’s the matter?”

Quickly, Killian waves a hand as if to physically swat away her worry. “Oh, no, nothing’s the matter. At least I don’t think it is? Maybe you’ll think so, but I’m not intending it that way —”

“What is it, Killian?” Emma interrupts his rambling, a hint of impatience creeping into her tone.

Taking a deep breath, Killian takes a last moment to muster up his courage. “Well, I was wondering if you’d want to get dinner sometime. Or coffee. Or whatever would work for you, really, I know Henry takes up a lot of your free time, as he should —”

Killian quickly stops his rambling (again? Gods, this really is becoming a pattern, isn’t it) at the sight of Emma’s face. At best, it’s an uncomfortable expression, at worst an irritated one. Regardless, it makes Killian think that he perhaps misjudged his chances and how much Emma enjoyed their time together.

“That’s very… flattering, Killian,” Emma replies in a much nicer voice than he expected, “but I don’t date coworkers. Ever. It just doesn’t work. You’re a great guy, and I am flattered, but let’s just… keep things professional, ok?”

Red-faced, Killian nods, trying to retain what dignity he can. “Of course, Swan.”

“Great.” Emma gives a sharp nod as if to settle the subject before jerking a thumb towards the doors. “Then I’m just… gonna go. Have a nice weekend.”

“You as well,” he says softly as she retreats, impossibly lovely even in awkwardness.

Now it’s time for him to go and sink into the ground forever and definitely not tell Liam.

———

Emma is flattered; she really is. Under other circumstances, she might have even accepted. But honestly, what the hell was he thinking? Honestly, this week has gone from bad to worse, with barely any bright spots.

Partially, she blames herself; she should never have been so permissive of his attentions. But she had enjoyed being treated like an adult for once, like the attractive woman she still believes herself to be underneath all the stress and overworking and being 24/7 Supermom. He hadn’t been trying to distract her from her job, either, or compromise her authority - just helping in little ways, not to mention providing that welcome distraction the other morning during the Zelena debacle.

Still, she can’t. She’s a professional, one with a quasi-authority over Jones; she can’t risk undermining her career in what would appear to be a blatant show of favoritism.

Emma hates to do it, but she thinks it’s necessary to abruptly sever all but the most professional of connections to Jones; she can’t afford to do otherwise.

She only hopes it will prove to be a clean break.

#my writing #Playing the Part #Stick to the Status Quo #cs ff #modern AU #Broadway AU #stage manager!Emma #actor!Killian

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