If Moxie was to be forced to dress up like any man, fictional or otherwise, no better than the whore himself, Fiyero. The added plus of keeping Axel Canterbury away from one of her favorite characters only sweetened the deal. And while Moxie believed that red complimented her most, blue gave her a sort of edge that she didn't otherwise incorporate much into her wardrobe.

Axel slid into view as she tapped glittery blue eyeshadow into the corner of her eyes. Although he was sans shirt, the hair situation on, well, his entire body kept him warm in the dressing room.

"Axel, that fur really brings out the color of your eyes."

"I—uh—thanks." Slaynia Twain passed him the rest of his Dr. Dillamond costume. "Thank you."

"Oh, look." Moxie picked up a red and pink bottle of setting spray. "Extensions for your coat."

Axel instinctively ran his fingers across his chest. It might have been a trauma reflex from watching Stevie and Maverick earlier with the wax strip. "Homegrown and everything. Wow."

Stevie, already green and fluffing up her pointy hat, called out for backup. "Hey, Slaynia. Just curious but do you have more wax strips in your kit?"

"Stev, you're a masochist," Maverick said while inserting his contacts. The puffy pink dress and long blonde wig complimented his complexion surprisingly well.

Stevie tipped her nose up at him. "No one mourns the hairy."

"I would mourn the hairy, actually," Axel countered.

According to the look on Eddie's face, she likely would have to. Poor woman who liked men. (Men like Axel Canterbury.)

"Don't you have baaa sounds to practice?" Stevie chided.

The goat sound that Axel didn't hesitate to imitate sounded straight out of a petting zoo. Nobody spoke for a few seconds, and Moxie was unsure whether to be impressed or concerned at the accuracy.

Maverick grimaced. He was not impressed. "I don't like that you were good at that."

"You can't even let me have that win?"

Moxie didn't believe that counted as a win either way.

"No," Maverick answered.

She continued with the finishing touches on her makeup. "Axel, be honest. Do you even know who your character is? And don't just say the goat."

He hesitated. "I mean, I thought it was Mr. Tumnus, but this costume says otherwise. There is no scarf."

Yet another blasphemous comment out of the straight man's mouth which elicited a visceral reaction from the entire group of queer people surrounding him. (His only saving grace was that Eddie seemed as lost as he was, but Moxie let her get away with not knowing about Wicked because she was beautiful and a woman.) Axel might as well have said Macbeth centerstage. Not only was Axel the type of man to get the entire group cursed, he would find a way to fuck up the cleansing ritual as well.

Stevie set her broom aside and crossed her arms. "Maverick, I think you need to answer for your crimes of inviting this man to a Wicked-themed drag show."

"Where's the cop who wrote Axel three tickets when you need him?" Moxie asked.

To be fair, Maverick looked guilty about it. "Can I use the excuse that I was said and not thinking straight or is that not good enough?"

"I think the problem is that you were thinking straight," Moxie said.

Stevie didn't concede either. "You've overextended your sadness credit with this one."

Even he couldn't deny that. "That's fair on both accounts. Sorry about that.'

Gaylinda the Booked Bitch walked back into the room in full costume. They had all been assisted by an entourage of the most talented queens with getting ready, none of them looked half as amazing as she did. Lit up the entire room like she had floated down in a bubble.

"Can I borrow Elphie and... pink Galinda? Need to test something before the show."

The only thing Moxie knew for sure was that Maverick and Stevie were hosting the Wicked-themed drag show and that, at some point, they would be singing. That meant they were likely doing some kind of soundcheck. And soundcheck at anything Wicked related with those two meant disaster waited on the horizon. It took them all of two seconds to leap to their feet and follow behind their queen.

Cruella took control of the group since nobody else would. "So. How is everyone doing?"

There was no worse person to volunteer an answer than Axel, and the shade of green that Eddie turned, even without makeup, proved that. Moxie had no idea what was going on or whether Giovanni's article was responsible for the something she didn't know, but it didn't take a genius to recognize that Eddie needed a break from the way Axel's presence swallowed up all the air in the room.

"Mostly... fine. You?"

Blondie didn't believe him. Understandably. No one in the room felt the weight of Eddie's behavior than him. "Mostly fine as in Maika Monroe is only fine? Or actually fine?"

"I—" The look Axel tried to steal from the only woman in the room he wanted to see? Ignored, deleted, and blocked. "Maika Monroe."

"Right." Cruella tested out the waters. Eddie turned away as quickly as possible. "Did the table arrive okay? I tried to guess based on the pictures I had."

"You had pictures of my apart—" He stopped short when he processed how that was possible. "It's a great table. Thank you for it. You didn't have to do that."

"Respectfully, I did have to. That before picture looked abysmal. No offense."

"I stand by the fact that I don't need a table because I am—because I live alone. But I do appreciate it."

Moxie scoffed. "That's the most single straight man thing you could have said."

"I have a coffee table, that should be enough."

"Coffee table in lieu of a dining table is peak single straight man behavior," she pointed out.

"Well. That's what I am," he replied. "So it's fine if that's the behavior."

Bold of him to say that in front of a lesbian. He was lucky Moxie didn't want to be held responsible for pushing Eddie over the edge when she was already leaning as far to the side of her chair as possible in an attempt to put some space between her and Axel.

"Fine like you're doing just fine. Maika Monroe fine."

Cruella jumped to everyone's rescue. "Did you know they're releasing a Wicked movie in November? We should all go see it."

Oh, 'cause there was no one else Moxie would rather see Wicked with than Axel fuckin' Canterbury.

"Will that explain to me who this goat man is?" he asked.

The more he spoke, and the more Eddie didn't, the more Mozie wanted to hit him.

"Theoretically, yes," Cruella answered.

"How have you survived being Maverick's friend for this long without knowing a thing about Wicked? That's basically his entire personality. And that's before factoring in Stevie."

The man shrugged. "I sang Carrie Underwood at a karaoke bar and he fell in love with me. Obviously."

"That's actually very likely and on brand."

"That's one of the nicest things you've ever said to me," Axel said to something that was most certainly not a compliment, nor was it intended to be. "Thank you."

"Mav's been known to have terrible taste in men."

"He flirts with Bash all the time," Cruella said. An undeniable truth. Twitter loved seeing the two of them interact.

"The exception. Not the rule."

"To be fair, everyone should flirt with Brendon Ellis," Axel volunteered. Sure, fake lesbian.

"Leigh's brother has certainly tried," Moxie said.

"Judging by that picture they took after Bash's championship win, he succeeded," Cruella pointed out.

Axel tapped his fingers beside the water ring on the wooden table. "Last I heard, they were basically married."

If one thought too hard about all the weird romantic tension between that side of the friend group and their extended tree, one would be left questioning their sanity. Moxie was too queer to know if all of it was a joke or something more.

"It's a very confusing family tree," she said.

Axel concurred. "It really is."

After another careful glance in her direction, Moxie figured that Eddie wasn't going to make it another five minutes sitting in that room with him, and she needed an excuse to get some fresh air.

"Want to split some lung cancer?" Moxie asked quietly.

With all the subtlety of a punch in the face, Eddie stood before she finished saying lung. Moxie quickly followed behind her, only briefly checking over her shoulder.

"Cruella, keep him away from the hay while we're gone, okay?"

"Of course."

Axel looked confused but wisely kept his mouth shut.

By the time Moxie made it outside, Eddie was leaning against the side of the building. The instant relief of finally being able to breathe now that she had some much-needed distance was apparent. She pulled cigarettes from her pocket, hands almost shaking, and handed them to Moxie with a lighter.

"God, my friend Roxanne has been trying to get me to cut back on these on the tour." Moxie sighed. "It's been so long."

Eddie let the unlit cigarette hang from her lips as she tugged her shirt up to expose the nicotine patch on her stomach, which she promptly ripped off and tucked back into the pocket of her jeans. She quickly lit her cigarette and closed her eyes. Inhaled, exhaled. A strange and momentary sense of peace, even if only a fleeting mirage.

"Yeah, Coach has been unsuccessfully trying to convince me to stop for years."

Maybe Moxie had a lot on her mind, and being back with the group who comprised so much of that nasty article only further reinvigorated those thoughts, but there were undeniably a lot of unresolved feelings torpedoing throughout Eddie's mind and heart. She clutched that damn cigarette like it was the only thing keeping her afloat.

"You know, I don't think anyone will mind if you need to get away for a bit. Take a breather. You've been... pretty quiet."

"Have I?" Neither of them believed the surprise in her voice. "I didn't notice. Sorry."

Moxie tucked one leg back against the wall. "Yeah. I mean, I get it. They're all putting on a brace face but... hard to ignore everything." She paused to take a drag. "Did you see what Rhlyn Whitlock posted? It was beautifully written."

Many journalists and content creators had released essays or think pieces regarding the Giovanni Perez situation, but none were articulated quite as eloquently as those shared by women. Rhylan Whitlock's piece was one of the best. A scathing denouncement of the man himself, but also society at large and how it still treated women in 2024.

Eddie nodded. "It was one of the nicest articles I think I've ever had written about me. Feel like I should take her out for dinner or something. But wouldn't be to be accused of anything." She winced. "Sorry, I shouldn't even be bringing it up. It's fucking stupid."

"Not at all," Moxie said. "And don't apologize. I was worried about you but didn't want to bother. Not that you can't take care of yourself, obviously." The last thing Moxie wanted was to make it sound like Eddie needed saving by someone she hardly knew. "But I hope you've had someone to talk to."

The guilty expression on Eddie's face was honest. "I... tried to. Didn't try that hard, though. To be honest. My sister checked in. It's fine. How are you?"

"Fine." Moxie laughed. She was beginning to think she never wanted to hear that word again. "I think we need to ban this group from saying that word. But I'm doing better. Glad to be off that bus for a bit. Gets a little stuffy sometimes."

"God, I bet. Tour buses suck," Eddie groaned. "I hated the one they put me in when I first started boxing. Fought tooth and nail every time I had to get in it. Now we don't bother booking one."

"I probably wouldn't mind it as much if Mick didn't fart in his sleep every two minutes. Someone needs to talk to him about his diet or something."

Tour buses were like a sleepover that went on for months tied neatly together with some of the best (and worst) parts of a road trip. Moxie was grateful to have Mick by her side through all of it. He grounded her in ways that no one else could. She also credited him with building new and better memories of being on a tour bus. Moxie hated to admit how much time she spent on them when she was a teenager, chasing after artists she adored and admired. Sure, being welcomed onto a tour bus with open arms was fun for a teenage girl. Who cared that the age difference between her and the adults who lured her in with promises of friendship and fun was wildly inappropriate? She got what she wanted. What she thought she wanted. They told her she was mature for her age and that's why they loved having her around, and Moxie believed it.

"I always wanted a brother," Eddie said. "My sisters were never quite like me; not in an I'm a weirdo way, but they both went into the arts. And I love that for them. But you and Mick always seem like you're on the same page. It's nice."

"Yeah, it's pretty nice to have someone who just... gets the same stuff you do. And I love him and would never trade him for anyone in the world. But I'm always envious of people who have sisters. Something about being a girl and getting to grow up alongside other girls. It's a different experience."

In a way, Moxie appreciated knowing she had men in the world who she trusted. But she would be lying if she said she didn't wonder what life would have been like with more women in it growing up. The influence it would have had on her.

"It's interesting. For sure." Eddie nodded. "Never a loss for people who want to hug you to make you feel better. Or steal your clothes. Or tell you what they think of what you say."

"Oh, Mick definitely steals my clothes all the time. I don't think a pair of sweatpants has ever lasted more than a week in my closet." Moxie laughed.

"Gotta love that."

"Your sister is the one who does all of Maverick's tattoos, right?"

Eddie nodded again. "My older sister does, yeah. And my twin does his red carpet outfits."

"Nice. I've been thinking about getting something to commemorate our first tour. Not sure what yet." It was a surprise Moxie hadn't gotten any tattoos yet, especially with Roxanne as a best friend.

"I'm sure she'd love to help you find something," Eddie offered. "She's... fucking brilliant. So."

"Mick will be pumped. We haven't been back to the Bay Area since his favorite greasy-haired boy's show—" Moxie stopped and swallowed once she realized what said. "I mean. Yeah. It's been a while."

Eddie managed a deep inhale before saying, "Can't blame Mick. He has that effect on people, doesn't he?"

"Seems to."

When she invited Eddie out for a smoke, Moxie had no real intention of bringing him up. He was clearly the reason Eddie needed the break in the first place. But one more look at that sad, depleted face and she found herself admitting something she hadn't realized she felt in the first place. And though Eddie looked more and more pained with each word—whether at Moxie or because of who she was talking about—she powered through.

"You know, despite how much I mess with him, I think Axel's kind of an... interesting character. No matter what gets through at him—and I'm sure it's a lot. I've seen that man drink hot dog tonic—he always gets right back up. Rolls with the punches. All 'cause he knows what he wants and it's to spend time with the people he cares about. Admirable, I think, in this day and age when so many people are afraid of letting the rest of the world see how they feel. And speaking as an outsider to everything that happened, I get it. Sometimes hiding yourself away from the people who see you most clearly feels like the best option. You think that space will heal all your wounds but it rarely does in the way we hope it will. As somebody who, more often than I care to admit, has had people push me away because they think they're protecting me by not allowing me to choose to be there for them... It hurts. I think that's just... human nature to want to be there for people. To show up for them. Like we're all here for Maverick and Stevie. And when you let people in to show you that, even if it's at your own pace... It's one of the greatest feelings in the world."

Eddie looked on the verge of tears. Moxie did her best to pretend like it wasn't obvious.

"I—um. Thanks—Thank you. Today is... The last couple weeks have been weird. And—I thought it would be easy. To... say what I said to him. Which wasn't great. But. Then he walked in the door and the last time I saw him was my—my birthday. Woo. What a great day. I didn't think it would hurt that much to see him again. So. Thank you. For that."

"Anytime," Moxie said. "I mean, don't ever tell him I said something nice about him. But yeah. He's... he's not bad. I don't think you'll be disappointed if you let him remind you of that." As late as it was, and as inconsequential as it was at this point, Moxie tacked on, "Also, happy belated birthday."

"Your secret's safe with. And thank you. Go thirty."

"Thirty, flirty and... trying" Moxie took one last drag. "Something like that."

"I'm requesting that on merch when you turn thirty, please."

"Anything for my favorite Aries."