WonderGirls: Ch. 10 - I Wanna Be Your End Game
Summary: Daisy and Carol have one more issue of tension to resolve around queer visibility before they can have their happily ever after... both for their careers and their relationship. After a long night at the Oscars, at the year's hottest afterparty, the truth comes out.
Notes: Last chapter!
Read on Ao3
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Throughout their pre-release promo tour, sitting at gilded foundation fundraisers and award show tables, even as they interviewed side by side for press coverage, Daisy noticed a tinge of frustration growing in her heart. It grew to a conscious battle she had to fight as she watched entertainment journalists, other celebrities, producers, writers, directors, photographers, and more starstruck by Carol.
It came to a head after presenting an award for Best Male Supporting Actor in a Comedy at the Oscars. The frenetic energy of the evening was fueled not only by nerves about presenting in evening gowns with a million cameras on them, but also unrealistic hopes and well wishes from all who knew their upcoming superhero movie would never be considered “serious” enough to get this kind of recognition. The adrenaline was still running high at the biggest afterparty of the year, Vanity Fair. The who’s who of A-listers were all there. Even the gossip columnists typing notes about the party in their phones were celebrities in their own right.
As celebrity after celebrity came up to them and talked only to Carol, touching her and whispering to her and acting like they knew her for clout, Daisy’s snap was sudden, going from the standard fake smiles and laughs to sarcasm and barbs that half-jokingly hit at the other person’s weak points.
“So I heard you had a great time in Ibiza,” Daisy teased one 35-year-old Sexiest Man of the Year winner. “I suppose we can’t all be the favorite of every teen supermodel. And it’s so sweet of you to bring your costar’s daughter tonight! Too bad she’s not 21 yet, missing out on these amazing cocktails at the bar.”
Carol forced a smile through gritted teeth. “Excuse us, I see someone we have been looking for all night. Great catching up!”
She pulled Daisy to the side, into a darker corner of the room where any photos of them wouldn’t turn out well. “What is your deal tonight?”
Daisy shrugged. “I didn’t say anything that wasn’t true. Everyone knows anyway.”
“That’s not what I’m talking about and you know it,” Carol whispered. “It’s you I’m worried about. You don’t usually care about this stuff, all the petty drama and crap. What’s with the mean girl? Where’s the Daisy I know?”
Daisy’s anger was still churning in her gut, and she couldn’t help lashing out at the woman she loved most. “Mean girl! I’m the one being a villain here? Are you fucking kidding me?”
Carol sighed in exasperation. “I don’t know, Daisy! That’s why I’m asking. Are you seriously jealous of the attention I get? After all we’ve been through? I’ve told you what it’s really like and you still think this is a fame competition?”
Daisy didn’t care who heard her. She was a little tipsy from all the champagne and her tight designer shoes were unbearably painful and she was at the end of her rope. “I’m not jealous of you! I’m jealous of THEM!”
Carol’s eyes widened as she struggled to understand. “Of them? You want to be like that?”
Daisy groaned. “Ugh, no! You know I don’t care about any of this fame shit. I want to be seen when I'm next to you. It's like I disappear.”
“I see you,” Carol brushed Daisy’s hair back, and her tenderness brought emotions to the surface beyond frustration.
“I know YOU do. It's them, everyone else.” Daisy gestured to the party, struggling to express her anxiety through the flood of feelings and lights and noise.
“Oh.” Carol paled. “Is it racism? Oh my god. Did I miss that this whole time? You’ve told me things you’ve been through in general, but I’m so sorry I didn’t see it right in front of us! I would have said something if I'd realized, I swear. I thought it was just fame difference, but maybe that's the point… I'm so sorry. Let me know who, and I can make anyone who ever—” Carol searched the room for anyone they had met that evening who had been rude as she searched her memories for microaggressions.
“Hey! Hey.” Daisy stopped Carol's spiral with a gentle palm on Carol’s cheek, redirecting her attention back to Daisy. “No. I mean, yes, that's something I have dealt with all my life. I know how to navigate that, and I promise I will tag you in when I need support. Okay?”
Carol nodded, and attack-girlfriend mode deactivated until called upon.
Someone with a camera tried to approach, and Daisy sent them a don't-you-dare expression so clear they scurried away.
“I’m mad at them because I have to watch all these assholes flirt with you over and over. Every interview, every awards thing, every red carpet… These people just drool over you like I’m not even there! They aren’t asking for your number for professional reasons, Carol. They don’t actually care about seeing your kitchen renovation. And they don’t really need you to come shopping because of your fashion taste. They are hitting on you. Every one of those was… Oh my god, you didn’t even notice the PR guy who wanted to get dinner because he wants advice for his daughter who wants to be an actor, but he couldn’t stop staring at your boobs? Didn’t even occur to you that was asking you on a date. Right in front of me!”
“Oh.” Carol swallowed hard. “I guess I’m just used to it. I’ve always had people talk to me like that, even as a teenager—which now that I think about it, it was gross and inappropriate, but it was just normal. People in the business just talk like that. At least, to me.”
“That sucks,” Daisy sighed. “And even tonight, you’re not single now and they are still acting like you are. I’m not saying you’re doing anything wrong. It isn’t your fault you’re the hottest person in every room you’re in with the talent to back it up.”
Carol huffed out a laugh. “Even when we’re fighting, you’re still complimenting me.”
Daisy’s anger diffused into resignation and fatigue. “It’s just true. I’m not comparing my career to yours. We’re different, and I love that. And! I love that I can go places without being mobbed by paparazzi when I’m alone. But when we’re together, I want people to see us as together. I just need people to stop trying to get with you as if I don’t count or matter.”
Carol’s hands had found their way subconsciously to Daisy’s hips during this confession, and she leaned in, speaking softly as she could in the noisy party. “I have a solution.”
Daisy mirrored her, leaning in too. “I’m all out of ideas, so whatever it is, I’m in.”
Carol closed the distance and kissed Daisy with abandon, not caring that the lighting in the room had changed as the DJ shifted the vibe from fast electronic dance music to smooth tropical vibes. The cool blue lighting filled the party, gentler than the harsh spots of red and orange before, but Daisy and Carol were no longer hidden. Cameras flashed, but Carol simply held Daisy tighter and deepened the kiss, feeling Daisy melt in her arms. When they parted, they could tell eyes were on them but they didn’t look away from each other.
“I’m yours,” Carol promised softly, lips near Daisy’s ear and hidden from the cameras or lip readers. “No one else’s. No matter who hits on me or you—and by the way, you are not immune either. You get plenty of looks when we’re out too. I can relate to being jealous, you know? And I want everyone to know we're both taken. I just didn't want you to feel like I'm making things public you'd rather keep between us. With so much of my life being watched, like we’re in a fish bowl, I don't know where the balance is.”
Carol met Daisy’s eyes to read her reaction.
“I get it. Just be with me. Talk to me about it if you don’t know what to do. Be my girlfriend, even if it leaves everyone else disappointed they don’t have a chance. That’s all I need.” Daisy’s genuine but bittersweet smile was back and it sent Carol’s heart racing.
“Move in with me.” Carol had been planning on asking at some point tonight, but when Daisy’s attitude took a dark turn, she wondered if she even knew her well enough. But seeing the reasoning and Daisy’s true feelings, it seemed almost silly that she had doubts. They didn’t need space apart; they needed more communication and time together, building trust and security in their relationship. “Wait, what?” Daisy heard her; she just needed confirmation that the loud alcohol-soaked party wasn’t messing with her.
“You love my house, right? And the view of the hills and your daisy garden.” Carol tickled Daisy’s side. “You already have half your stuff there. You’re always complaining about yours, you’re sick of your neighbors, and you were thinking about selling anyway and moving closer to the studios. And I miss you when you’re not home with me. It just makes sense.”
While the cameras and gossipers had moved on long ago, they were still in the huge, crowded, elite Hollywood event of the year. Far too public for the intimacy Daisy wanted to answer this reasoning with.
“Okay.” Daisy bit her red lip, stained with some luxury brand she was contractually obligated to wear. Despite the designer bespoke gown and borrowed jewels she could never afford and hours of hair and makeup work, now with Carol’s adoring gaze on her, she was a blushing schoolgirl. Carol’s real superpower, making everyone feel special and loved, was fully focused on her with blindingly bright devotion and hopefully vulnerability. “What if we skipped all the other parties and went to your place together right now?”
Daisy’s hand resting on Carol’s neck teased fingertips down to her bare shoulder to her exposed cleavage.
“Yes, please,” Carol squeaked out. “Home is good.”
“I’ll tell the valet to get the driver.” Daisy moved through the party, with Carol right behind her, as a new woman. Daisy flashed real smiles and graciously accepted and gave sincere compliments to those they passed.
“Sorry,” Carol said to someone who tried to stop them to chat her up. “We’re just on our way home.” She squeezed Daisy’s hand and they continued to the exit.
As they waited in the exit area chatting to others leaving early, Carol kept her arm around Daisy’s waist. She resisted any efforts to pull her away, and she redirected the conversation to Daisy and countered her instincts and training that told her to focus all her energy on pleasing the powerful people around them. She’d been raised to be whoever people wanted her to be. She was programmed to charm and court power and impress, the easy-to-work-with rising star every rich man wanted to invest his production money into. Now, aware of Daisy’s perspective, Carol could be strong enough to say no, to overcome her anxieties about any perceived slight or missed opportunity. Success wasn’t the center of her world anymore. Daisy was.
As Daisy physically leaned on Carol’s strength, talking about an idea for a new TV series with a brilliant female showrunner whose work they loved, Carol leaned on Daisy emotionally. It wasn’t even fear of failure that haunted her darkest thoughts. It was fear of losing Daisy. Those had been intertwined while acting together, but now that the movie was approaching the wrap date and headed toward post-production, Carol had healed enough to stare reality in the face: None of the prestigious awards she watched others win tonight would be given to them next year, and she held no fear about it. Even if the movie flopped by superhero standards at the box office, she’d never regret it. She’d found the love of her life because of it.
“What do you think?” Daisy redirected the TV show conversation to Carol, and the showrunner watched her carefully.
Carol let her besotted, cheesy grin show. “I think you are annoyingly talented at this, and anything with you involved is going to be a huge hit. Obviously I’m biased,” she laughed and spoke to the showrunner. “But seriously, Daisy’s instincts for the TV industry are always right. If she tells you it’s good, it’s getting rave reviews and Emmys the next award season. Hire her and you’re getting a lot more than an actor.”
“Hire me? Babe, she was just asking…” Daisy trailed off as the showrunner held up a hand to stop her.
“No, no, I wanted to see what you thought before offering, but then Carol beat me to the punch,” the showrunner interjected, delighted by their banter. “Daisy, I’d love to have you join on as a producer, and we have a role for you, if you want it.”
She handed Daisy her card just as her ride arrived. The valet opened the car door, and the showrunner turned back to them before getting in. “Call me! You’re exactly who we need, Daisy Johnson. Don’t make me beg!”
“I won’t! I mean, I will call you!” Daisy called after her. The showrunner waved and got in her car, leaving Daisy bouncing next to Carol.
“I told you,” Carol sang.
Daisy kissed Carol’s cheek, but the valet escorted them to their Wonder Studios limo before she could respond. To their surprise, the limo already had passengers from its previous stop.
“Get in, lover girls!” Kamala called loudly as they did so. “We have your swag from the studio afterparty!”
Monica held out two gift bags, and as they pulled away from the Vanity Fair party, the four of them opened their swag with a treasure trove of luxury products and event-sponsor goodies. The girlish fun lasted all the way to the secure parking lot where Carol and Daisy’s driver was waiting for them near Kamala’s BMW and Monica’s Maserati.
“Are you two good to drive?” Daisy asked, sisterly instinct kicking in.
“Yeah,” Kamala laughed. “I don’t drink, remember?”
“And mine from the ceremony has long since worn off,” Monica explained.
“She spent most of the night dancing.” Kamala wiggled her eyebrows. “With the new Captain Falcon reboot guy.”
“Kamala!” Monica shushed her. “He’s just a friend. A very attractive, very attentive, also non-drinking friend. We both watched the original Captain Falcon show as kids. And sure, he may have already texted me while we were in the limo, but that doesn’t mean we’re together like that.”
“Mmhmm. Yet.” Kamala’s wink sent Carol and Daisy into giggles.
They each made their way to their rides home and promised to get together soon.
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Daisy and Carol’s Oscars night was thoroughly and completely saved, despite their insecurities and flaws that tried to ruin it for them. After getting back to Carol’s, they intended to de-glamorize, get cleaned up, and relax in more comfortable clothes, but they took a detour between each step of the process to apologize to each other again and again in varieties of makeup sex and promises to communicate, demonstrated in flirting and dirty talk that led to more varieties…
Basking in the afterglow of their party-for-two and ready for sleep, Daisy snuggled against Carol in bed that night and posted Oscars and Vanity Fair party photos to social media, then scrolled through the photos from others they were tagged in. Looking back at the events through the lenses of these phone cameras, no one would ever know the anger and frustration she was trying to hide nor the mental battles Carol was fighting as she rewrote the internal scripts that had been drilled into her so long ago.
“I like that one best,” Carol said as Daisy reached the last photo they had taken, just the two of them as they waited for their limo.
“We look happy,” Daisy observed quietly.
“Accurate, then. Who knew, an Academy event where we leave happier than we came in.” Carol kissed Daisy’s bare shoulder.
“Technically, we have Vanity Fair’s guest list to thank for that.”
“Pretty sure it was the lipstick that really is kiss-proof that did it,” Carol quipped. “Considering we didn’t leave with a single smudge and it took a special remover cloth to get off. We really need extra commission for that live kissing demonstration at the party.”
Daisy laughed and put her phone on the charging stand on her side of the bed. “If anyone asks us about it, that’s our answer. We were just really good at our jobs.”
“Above and beyond.” Carol pulled her back in, and they put in further “work” on this skill until they were too tired to do anything but cuddle and sleep.
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Within a week, Daisy’s house was on the market, and boxes were being packed. There was no shortage of space at Carol’s mansion, but Daisy found it surprisingly easy to cull so many items that she’d bought for an old trend or been given as status symbols that never really felt like her anyway. Others she had simply grown out of—they were right for a specific room or a bygone era of her life, but didn’t fit in her new one. A few items Daisy was neutral on but Carol loved and so made the trip not for sentimental value or practical use but because they were given to the person she was moving in with anyway.
Some clothing items and accessories would find themselves frequently transferred between two different closets and dressers in the same large master bedroom, depending on which girlfriend had worn them last.
New dresses and suits appeared in a spare room’s “elegant events” closet too. First for their movie’s premieres, then other red carpet events capitalizing on their success, then screenings and film festivals they attended as each other’s plus-ones. Then one day, two ring boxes joined the jewelry collection, and a few months later, two white dresses appeared in gown-hanging bags.
In the years and decades that followed, not only were there romantic dates and charity galas, and film and TV industry professional events, and much more to dress up for, but also extra special anniversary dinners for just the two of them, often in stunningly beautiful locations around the world. Their illustrious careers and public adoration continued on through ups and downs in the industry, despite always coming second to the real, lasting, deep love they shared.
It turns out Hollywood fairytales can come true, if the lovers’ hearts are open to wonder.
Notes:
Hope you all enjoyed this fic! Subscribe to my author profile to get more stories like this in the future. February is right around the corner, after all... :)
