Work Text:
On the tenth of April, Helen Sharp was to be married.
Doctor Ernest Menville was a nice, respectable man. Her parents loved him—as much as Roger and Virginia were really capable of loving anything—her friends loved him, his colleagues loved him, and even his patients and their families loved him. He was well-rounded and plain, simple and balanced. He was perfect for someone like Helen.
Ernest Menville was safe, and everyone Helen knew simply loved him.
She hadn’t introduced him to Madeline yet.
Madeline Ashton was a famous A-list actress. Her fans loved her; the camera loved her; men loved her, though they didn’t tend to stick around, but they loved her enough to drop Helen for Madeline in an instant. She went to parties, sometimes fancy, but more often than not, they were just excuses for rich people to be trashy, the way Madeline had grown up.
Helen’s friends and family did not love Madeline. She was a drug-addicted, alcoholic, self-destructive slut who had ruined Helen’s life multiple times for the past 20 years. She had Razzies wins and nominations from garbage movies that people only watched to see Madeline sexualize herself.
Helen loved her like it was breathing.
So, it made sense that sometimes, when she was planning her wedding and showing Ernest off at parties and galas, guilt gnawed at her heart behind her ribcage. It was her wedding, and her best friend didn’t even know she had a boyfriend, let alone a fiancé.
Madeline was supposed to be the one that went with Helen and her mother to look at dresses, try foods, and throw a bachelorette party.
Even if Helen had more than enough reason to not tell Madeline, she couldn’t help but feel awful.
Madeline had been in New York City for over a year now, and Helen hadn’t reached out. To be fair, Madeline had only tried once to get in contact with her. Still, she’d never missed a single thing Madeline was in, so she and Ernest were going to see her in Me! Me! Me! before it closed.
As Madeline’s most secretive fan, Helen would never forgive herself if she didn’t see it at least once. They were going to meet Madeline in her dressing room after the show. That’s when Helen would drop the news. She’d thought about warning Madeline about Ernest, but then she would miss the look on Madeline’s face when she told her. It would almost be more rewarding than the marriage itself.
And the marriage would be so, so perfect. It was everything Helen had been planning her entire life. She'd finally done it; she'd finally won. All on her own, she did it. She didn't need Madeline to pick up the pieces for her, and she didn't need Madeline’s approval, or her praise, or Madeline at all.
Helen Sharp could live without Madeline Ashton.
She could live without her happily.
“Ernest, darling,” Helen smiled, looking over her laptop screen when her fiancé walked through the door. She'd been waiting for him all day, and she was glad he didn't decide to abandon her.
Ernest smiled back at her over his shoulder as he hung his long beige coat on the hanger by the door. “Good evening,” he greeted.
“How's your day been?” Helen asked, barely refraining from kicking her legs girlishly as she waited for him to come over and greet her with a small peck on the forehead as he always did. She liked the routine of it all, even if sometimes she grew desperate for more.
“Fine,” he answered. Then, made his way to her and cupped the back of her head before leaning down and pressing his lips to the crown of her head. He did it gently, but she thought she preferred the sweetness of when Madeline used to do it.
No, she thought, this isn't about Madeline.
“That's good,” she said. “I've been adding things to our registry. Is there anything you want?”
“I'm sure whatever you've added is fine,” Ernest said.
Helen swallowed. Ernest didn't mind the little details like she did. She was the one who wanted their home to be a particular way, and he only grew tired of it when she tried to rope him into it. She supposed she wasn't supposed to mind that. It wasn't as if her father helped her mother with decorating their home and throwing their parties and anything he really deemed as beneath him.
“Don't forget we have Madeline’s show this evening. I don't want to be late,” Helen said. They should be leaving in an hour and a half, so she had time to fix her makeup and hair before heading out the door.
“I haven't forgotten,” Ernest said, almost sighing as he stuck his head into the refrigerator.
Another thing that bothered Helen about Ernest—the biggest part, really—was that he didn't believe she and Madeline were best friends. In all fairness to him, they hadn't spoken much in the time Helen had been with Ernest, and who would believe frumpy Helen Sharp was best friends with Madeline Ashton?
Still, she'd done her best to show him, but she knew Ernest doubted how… all there Helen was. She'd shown Ernest old photos of her and Madeline, and even some recent ones as well. When Madeline had attended the Grammy's—she wasn't nominated, but a show she appeared in was, and she'd gotten an invite anyway—she’d taken Helen with her, but Helen had been almost entirely successful in avoiding cameras.
If someone were to watch interviews of Madeline's, especially the old ones, they'd occasionally hear Helen's name mentioned in passing, and there were a few paparazzi photos of them hanging out when Madeline came to visit. Fans of Madeline knew Helen Sharp was her best friend, but most people didn't. They usually preferred it that way. Helen was personal to Madeline—Helen sometimes wondered if she was just embarrassed of her—and Madeline didn't usually let the public see anything beyond her polished persona.
“We'll leave in about an hour and a half if that's okay with you,” Helen said. If it wasn't okay with him, she wasn't sure what she would do. There would be a chance they would be late, or something happened to their tickets, and they'd have no buffer time in case anything went wrong, and then maybe they wouldn't be able to see Madeline, and maybe Madeline didn't have her phone with her, so Helen wouldn't be able to tell her they couldn't make it, and then Madeline would be upset, and Helen never wanted Madeline upset, even if it certainly seemed like it sometimes and—
Her eyes caught on a small, low-quality photo of her and Madeline after Madeline’s Broadway debut. Madeline held the pink lilies Helen had bought for her (Madeline's favorite) in one arm, and Helen in the other. Whoever they'd gotten outside the theater to take their photo was really in a rush, and the entire thing turned out blurry and pixelated. The only things that were clear were Madeline’s blinding smile and both of their bright hair.
Helen's breathing calmed, and Ernest was none the wiser.
“What about this mixer?” Helen asked, zooming in on the preview image. Her head was beginning to hurt from staring into her computer screen for so long.
Ernest leaned his hips back against the edge of the counter, rolling his sleeves up to his elbows as he drank a cold glass of water. “Whatever you think is best, dear,” he said.
Helen pursed her lips. She needed to stop bothering him about this before he rethought the entire engagement.
A nice suitcase caught her eye, creamy and soft in that way that always calmed her and Madeline made a fuss about hating.
Her lips parted, and sound spilled out before she could stop it. “What about these suitcases?” she asked. “They could be nice if we decide to go on vacation. Maybe our honeymoon?” They were going to go to France, Helen’s favorite place to visit as a girl. Ernest said he wouldn’t mind seeing France, so she thought it must be okay. He’d said that about every part of their wedding. She’d planned the entire thing without him, just with different professionals and the occasional criticism from her mother.
It was Helen’s duty to plan the wedding, she thought. She already bored Ernest with enough trivial concerns, so Helen thought it best to not bother him for something he didn’t owe her. Still, she wasn’t sure she’d thought it would go like this.
She shook her head. She was much too prone to overthinking, and this was just another one of those things she panicked over until the novelty wore off. Ernest was her person, and Madeline wouldn’t be able to take this from her.
Helen had finally, finally won.
As she added another gift to the list, she didn’t really feel like a winner.
Seeing Madeline would fix that, and Helen would be happy.
On the twenty-third of October, Helen Sharp was to be married.
She'd been going over every single possible minute detail for their wedding. Every single seat, flower, and speckle of glitter had to be exactly right. She hadn't gotten everything right last time, and that didn't turn out well. This time, she would be prepared. There wouldn't be room for a single thing to go wrong, and she and Madeline would be happy together for the rest of their eternal afterlives.
Helen Sharp was marrying Madeline Ashton.
She still barely believed it.
Helen delicately slid out of bed, ignoring the faint whine she heard from her sleeping beauty, and headed downstairs to her office. She sat down heavily in the rolling leather chair, as she had been doing every night for the past three weeks. There wasn't enough time in the day to get everything right.
If it wasn't perfect, she could lose Madeline.
She stayed there until the sun came up.
Helen had been stalking Madeline’s Instagram for nearly two hours. She was desperately searching for any of Madeline’s friends to make into a guest list. Since they’d died, Madeline had gained back a lot of her status from doing three new movies, originating a role on Broadway, and she’d had four guest appearances on TV, while also currently playing a recurring character in a drama series. Her comments were filled with people, and she had a decent amount of photos with people, but Helen couldn’t remember her mentioning any of them except to complain.
It wasn’t as if Madeline had any family to invite, and the only sort of friend Helen could think of was Stefan. She was positive he’d loved and cared for her, or else he wouldn’t have stuck around so long, but much like Helen, he’d seen the rotten bits of Madeline that she was typically successful in hiding from the rest of the world. Stefan seemed to be Madeline’s closest friend when Helen excluded herself, but he hadn’t come around that she knew of since Madeline stopped paying his paychecks.
This entire endeavor just made her think back on something she’d written about Madeline in her novel; something about how not only did she have no friends because she was horrid to be around, but she couldn’t even keep people around if she paid them. What was left of Helen’s stomach churned unpleasantly. She hoped Madeline continued her streak of never reading.
“Honey, I’m home,” Madeline sing-songed, voice carrying from the foyer to where Helen was resting on the couch in the room over. She’d said, ‘honey, I’m home,' when they were freshly dating, and Helen had laughed, so now Madeline did it 60% of the time she came home. If it were anyone else doing it, Helen would’ve lost her mind. With Madeline, it was just slightly annoying endearment.
“In here, Mad,” Helen called back, quickly closing Madeline’s profile.
The moment Madeline’s heels clicked on the living room floor and her scent invaded Helen’s nostrils, she felt her body relax. She almost felt like crying.
Madeline sighed as she walked around the couch, kicking her heels off before climbing on top of Helen’s half-lying-down figure, curling into her side.
Helen shut her phone off and dropped it on the nearby coffee table. “How was your day?” Helen asked, carding her fingers through slightly frizzy blonde hair. The sun was setting outside, and it cast a pleasant orange hue throughout the room.
The actress groaned, burying her face further into Helen’s neck. “Everyone is so stupid,” she huffed. Her fingers clung to the soft cream fabric of Helen’s cardigan. “They just took so long to do everything. I mean, honestly, like, am I the only one on that entire set who knows how to act? People are just— they’re baffling, Hel, they really are!”
Helen pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “I’m sorry, darling, that must be stressful,” she said.
Madeline’s blue eyes widened just a bit in surprise. “Yeah,” she said quietly. “It is. Um, anyway, what have you been doing, my Hel?”
“Just wedding stuff,” Helen said. “Nothing big, really.”
The mention of their wedding brought a sweet little smile to Madeline’s face, and she hummed happily before turning her cheek onto Helen’s chest.
As Helen petted Madeline’s soft hair, she continued to mull over their guest list. She was going to invite Stefan, and it’d be his choice whether or not to come. It was a safe assumption to say Louise wasn’t invited, which left… no one.
Helen had a decent sum of people she could invite. They might not all be close, but she’d grown up in a tight circle of people in the same tax bracket, all with children around her age to take over their parents' business when they passed. There was Salley, who, even though Helen quickly found her to be insufferably dull, would still be there if invited. And even if she was nervous to the point of panic attacks, she had two living parents to invite. Whether or not they would come, she had no idea, but they were still an option. Madeline didn’t have options.
She felt like throwing up at the idea of asking Madeline for any sort of help with the wedding. However, if she messed this up, it could ruin all of her hardwork.
“Maddie?”
“Hmm?” Madeline hummed, drowsy and relaxed.
Helen sucked on her teeth. “I was just trying to go over guest list stuff today, and I didn’t know who, um, who you would want me to send invitations to. Is there..?” She could feel Madeline stiffen in her arms.
“Um, well,” Madeline began slowly, “you’ll be there. That’s all I need!” Despite the chipper tone her voice had taken on, Helen saw right through it. “Invite whoever you’d like; I’m so generously offering up my half of the invite list.”
“Mad, I don’t want you to not have anyone—“
“I have people, Helen,” Madeline snapped quickly. Defensive, as usual. She pushed herself off the couch—off of Helen—and the redhead felt the entire thing just slipping away.
Why had she asked? She knew what would happen, and she did it anyway. She always had been self-destructive.
“I don’t care who comes,” she said, walking away.
Helen wished she could bash her own head into the wall. Stupid.
When Helen had planned her and Ernest’s wedding, she had consulted him for every detail she could because she wanted it to be perfect for him. Helen knew Madeline better than she knew herself, thus making it so she never needed to ask her what she would want.
This worked in her favor.
Of course, Madeline kept asking to help with the wedding, so sometimes Helen would give her a smaller task, like the flavor of their cake or which catering company they should hire. She was glad she’d given that one to Madeline; she’d thought of something Helen never would have: the catering company they’d worked at together in college, when Helen did it just to spend more time with Madeline, and Madeline did it because she was barely able to make a living paycheck to paycheck. It was a perfect idea, and Helen showed her gratitude by ravishing Madeline for hours that night.
What also worked in Helen’s favor was that Madeline had been so very busy working. She knew Madeline felt bad being so busy when the date of their wedding was approaching so rapidly, but Helen worked very hard to assure her that this was good; this worked. She didn’t explain anything beyond a surface, saccharine level.
She nearly jumped out of her skin when her phone dinged from its spot beside her laptop on her desk. Unlocking it, she saw it was a text from Madeline.
hey hel belle!!!!
Helen smiled, sitting back in her chair.
Hi, Mad.
What is it, darling?
sigh i miss you
you and ur sweet face
im on my lunch break wishing i could eat you for lunch 😱😱😶🌫️😶🌫️😘😘😘😍😍😍😍
Don’t be vulgar!
oh so ur saying you dont want me eating ur pussy oookay hel i see how it is !!
treating ur FIANCÉE like this when she’s done NO WRONG in her LIFE
EVER!
its okay if you dont love me anymore!!😭😭😭😢😢😢
ill just wander this earth mindlessly for eternity all on my own dont worry about me helen j sharp 😢😢😢😢
You were going to wander the Earth mindlessly whether or not I was there ;)
THAT IS SO CRUEL HELEN
You’ll live
Ah, wait!
No, you won’t.
jesus
way to remind me of my never ending existence that includes the symptoms of hot fiancée and extremely broken neck
Aw, you think I’m hot? Flattered.
well duh ur a total catch
my perfect little soon to be trophy wife
with flaming locks of auburn hair!
Oh god.
with ivory skin!
and eyes of emerald greeeen
helene, helene
Oh my god, you’re such a dork, Madeline.
ur the one who’s marrying ME
That’s funny…
I seem to recall YOU being the one who proposed?
it really is so sad to see the elderly lose their memories 😢😢
Is this really what you texted me for, Mad?
Helen watched the little dots that signified Madeline was typing come and go, over and over.
no. invite stefan to the wedding. you were right, i don’t have anyone to invite. invite whoever you want there, and that’ll be okay with me. you don’t need to run it by me or anything, just send the invites.
Mad, I wasn’t saying you didn’t have anyone to invite.
well i don’t so just forget it
i have to get back to work
Can we talk more about this?
I love you.
She tried to ignore the lump in her throat when Madeline left her on read for over two minutes. She’d upset her again; she was ruining it again. The entire thing was going to implode, and it would all be Helen’s fault. She just wasn’t careful enough.
Helen was going to lose Madeline, and even if she had no pulse already, she felt that Madeline’s absence would be the one thing that could truly, permanently kill her.
i love you too
“Hel, I've felt terrible that you've been doing so much for our wedding, and I have wonderful news!” Madeline said, grinning as she pranced into Helen's office.
Helen could swear she felt her heartbeat pick up, no matter how dead she was. “Oh, really?”
“Yep!” Madeline exclaimed. She giddily turned Helen in her chair so she could slide onto her lap, wrapping her arms behind Helen's neck and pecking her lips. “So, long story short, I have off of filming for a week so that I can help you! Isn't that great?”
“Yeah, it's um,” Helen swallowed. Her control was slipping, slipping, slipping. “It's definitely great, Mad. I'm.. I'm so glad.”
Seemingly too excited to pick up on Helen's feelings, Madeline beamed, messing gently with the baby hairs on the back of Helen's neck.
“Sooo,” Madeline trilled. “Show me what you've been working on today, baby. Have you been writing or doing wedding stuff?”
It would be so easy for Helen to lie and say she had been writing.
She hated lying to Madeline.
“Wedding,” Helen answered quietly. She gestured to her computer, and Madeline maneuvered them until she could face the screen. Helen's hands rested on her waist, toying with the loops in her jeans. “I think the registry is done unless there's something you wanted to add.”
Madeline craned her head back to press a kiss to Helen's cheek before leaning in to investigate the registry.
Helen desperately hoped Madeline liked it. She'd filled the entire thing with all of Madeline's favorites: perfumes, leopard print everything, blues and pinks, a newer, prettier version of Madeline's karaoke machine, and just generally everything she thought Madeline could want. It was perfect.
“Hel,” Madeline began, and the tone of her voice instantly sent Helen spiralling.
“Yes?”
“Am I missing something?” she asked. A baffled, breathless laugh pushed its way past her lips. “Am I marrying myself?”
Helen couldn't speak; her mouth had gone dry.
Madeline turned her head around, eyes looking back and forth between Helen's. Her brows were pinched together in concern, and her lips were quirked up in confusion.
“You don't like any of these things, Hel,” Madeline said, bringing a hand up to stroke Helen's cheek with the back of her knuckles, the cool metal of her engagement ring sending chills down her spine.
“Do you not like them?” Helen whispered. She hated how quiet she sounded.
“No, baby, no, of course I like all of them,” Madeline assured softly. “But none of them are you.” She offered Helen a sweet, comforting smile that made Helen want to run away and kiss her at the same time. “I like you most of all.”
“But you're not happy with the list.”
Madeline took a deep breath, clearly thinking. “I wish I could tell I was marrying you when I looked at it. I don't like not seeing you.”
“I wanted it to be perfect for you.”
“Why?” Madeline asked.
“Because I— well— you— he—”
“He?”
Helen felt claustrophobic. Madeline was too much, too close, too everything. Helen needed— she needed her away; she needed to run, fast and far and just away. She pushed at Madeline's hips, trying to shove her off of her lap.
“Get— off, Madeline, get off of me,” Helen grunted out.
“What are you—”
One strong shove sent Madeline tumbling to the ground, and Helen almost worried her head would pop off. The thud of the back of Madeline’s head against the corner of her desk made her limbs feel tingly and out of place, and Helen hated that all she could do was gasp and rush out of the room.
Muffled in the back of her mind, she thought Madeline might’ve called after her. She didn’t know. She just ran through the house, quickly trying to get somewhere warmer, softer, somewhere safer.
The bedroom door slammed behind her, and her fingers shook as she tried to lock it. When it proved to be too difficult, she let out a frustrated shriek through gritted teeth and crossed the room, sliding to the ground beside their soft king bed.
Her chest heaved, and it made her head feel like a piggy bank a small child was shaking around. Nothing was going according to play. She knew this would happen.
Helen knew that if Madeline helped, she would lose control of the situation. Maybe it wasn’t Madeline, though. She really shouldn’t blame her for all of her misfortunes. This wasn’t Madeline’s mistake; no, this was Helen’s mistake. She was the common denominator here. Madeline had gotten married, through and through. Helen had two tries, and she’d failed one and was well on her way to failing the second one.
The second one was so much more important.
A knock on the door startled her enough to choke on air when she gasped.
“Hel?” Madeline’s gentle voice called through the wood. “Helen, darling, can I come in?”
Why would she still want all of this? Why wouldn’t Madeline ever just leave her?
“Helen, are you alright?”
Helen, not for the first time, desperately prayed that sound would leave her lips. She couldn’t decide whether to be grateful when the door creaked open or not. Before she knew it, Madeline was kneeling in front of her, tenderly petting her red hair.
“Breathe, baby,” Madeline said calmly. She’d gotten so good at managing Helen over the years. She was the only one who ever really tried. “Breathe and do your routine.”
Helen swallowed roughly. Madeline’s eyes were so blue, Helen wished she could drown in them. Sometimes, she swore she was.
When Madeline noticed Helen calming down, a small smile snuck onto her face. “Yeah,” she said, “yeah, like that. Just focus on me and breathe.”
Once Helen had, for the most part, calmed down, Madeline moved to sit beside her instead of in front of her, curling into her side.
“What’s going on, Hel?” Madeline asked. When Helen didn’t answer, Madeline took a deep, shaky breath. “Helen,” she began, slow and unsteady. “Do you— do you not want to marry me?”
Helen gasped, her head turning so fast she thought they’d both have broken necks. “What? No, Maddie, don’t be ridiculous; of course I want to marry you. Oh my god, all I’ve ever wanted is to marry you. I want this—you—more than anything. Why would— why would you ever think that?”
“I just— you haven’t wanted me around,” Madeline admitted quietly. She laughed wryly when Helen said nothing. “Did you think I hadn’t noticed? You either do all of the preparation when I’m not around, or you sneak out of bed at night to work on it. You never let me see anything, and then you give me the trivial stuff just to placate me.”
“Mad, I didn’t mean—“
“You don’t want me around,” Madeline interrupted. “Do you not think I can handle planning a wedding? I’ve already planned one, Hel, I promise you, I know how.”
“I know you have,” Helen snapped suddenly. “Look at how well that went for me. I lost you, Madeline, I lost everything I ever had, and it was my fault.”
“You didn’t lose me, honey,” Madeline replied, gently combing her fingers through Helen’s hair. “You’ll never lose me, and you didn’t ruin anything.”
Helen felt tears close her throat. “I’ve only had you back in my life for a couple of years, Mad,” she said. “When I asked Ernest for help with our wedding, he went to you. I wasn’t enough for him, and I don’t want to not be enough for you, too. I’ve relied on you so much over the years, Maddie, and I need you to know that I can— I can do this for you. I just— I just want to be enough for you.”
Madeline pulled her in for a tender kiss the moment she finished speaking, and Helen could taste the saltiness of their combined tears.
“You, Helen Sharp,” Madeline said when she pulled away, hands firmly cupping Helen’s cheeks, “have always been everything to me. There is no world where you aren’t enough for me. Forget everything Ernest ever did. He didn’t deserve you and neither do I.”
“No, you—“
Madeline shook her head. “Not after that I don’t. I don’t deserve your hand in marriage. But I’m so glad I’m going to. I just want you to let me help you with the wedding. I want it to be our wedding.”
Helen grabbed onto Madeline’s wrists, her thumbs gently stroking the soft skin there. “Yeah,” she whispered, nodding. “Me too. I want that too. I’m— I’m sorry I didn’t talk to you.”
“Don’t be sorry, honey, it’s okay,” Madeline assured. “It’s nothing we can’t manage. We’ll redo the registry after dinner, yeah? Maybe a movie too?”
"I'd love that,” Helen smiled.
Helen had no idea how she’d nearly let the memory of Ernest ruin this for her.
Nothing, she thought, was better than being sat between Madeline’s legs in the center of their bed with her laptop open, scrolling through shopping websites and copying links. She found the way that Madeline pointed all excited at things to be quite possibly the most adorable sight she’d ever seen.
“Look, Hel,” she said, right on cue. The tip of her nail clicked against the screen. She was pointing to a photo of deep red satin pillowcases. “You like those, don’t you, baby? They’re very you, I think.” She punctuated her words with a kiss to Helen’s temple.
Helen practically vibrated with happiness. “I do like those,” she said, saving the link. “Good eye, Maddie.”
Madeline keened under the praise.
Really, how had Helen almost let this pass her by just because she was scared? She’d rather her head be shot clean off than have to live on knowing she’d missed this. This, she decided, was perfect.
This wedding would be absolutely perfect. This one would stick for both of them.