"I need the four of us to promise that no matter what happens tonight, we will do everything we can to make sure those two do not get the entire bar to sing Defying Gravity. Okay?" Moxie asked. Her glares across the table were pointed and promised pain if her wishes were not granted.

It was a request placed in the middle of said two grabbing the table drinks—high on Defying Gravity and the remaining intoxicating smell of pink glitter and green face paint.

"Will punch out Mav if I need to," Eddie said. "Stevie kind of scares me."

If ever there was a celebrity who could win a boxing match after being pulled from the crowd, it was Stevie Kealoha.

"I think it's just the leftover green tinge to her skin," Moxie said.

"Fair enough." Eddie still didn't want to count on herself winning a fight against her. Maverick on the other hand? One round. Total knockout.

"Respectfully," Axel said, his knee was against Eddie's and she tried to ignore it. It was merely the way he was sitting, she told herself, not anything more than that. "I was scared of her before that."

"You should be scared of all women," Moxie said.

"Oh, I am," Axel said. He motioned to the eyeliner and stray fur left on his face from the show. He looked more like Teen Wolf than the goat man of Oz in that moment. "Why do you think I didn't take this off? Scared to ask for a wipe."

"I thought you were just... doing something." Eddie wasn't complaining in the slightest about the eyeliner. It was a little embarrassing.

Axel shook his head. "Terrified."

Cruella pulled a pack of makeup wipes from her purse. Because that was what bisexuals were good for—Eddie was pretty good in the bandage, cigarette, and lighter department, not so much the makeup department. "Please use this before you rub your eyes or get fur stuck in your drink."

Axel already had his finger in his eye. Typical man. He looked guilty about it, though. For whatever that was worth. "I think I'm going to commit to the bit. Thank you."

"Look!" Stevie said, dropping drinks down on the table. Her soulmate followed after, dishing out the rest of the glasses to the table. "They had Swamp Waters!"

Axel the newly minted raccoon winced. "Oh, fuck me."

"Okay, you really need to stop saying that," Eddie said. (Because she might've listened.) (Shut the fuck up.)

"You should probably take a sip of your Shrek's Piss, Axel," Moxie said.

"His what?" Stevie asked. All but curled her lip at the white man at the table.

"It's a Massachusetts thing," Axel said.

"It is not," Cruella said.

The members of the table looked at her quizzically. Axel fought against a wide smile as best he could. Maybe Eddie was looking too closely for her own good.

"How would you know?" Moxie asked. Twirling a piece of Cruella's hair around her fingers. Nobody was strong enough to point it out. "Aren't you from California?"

"Uh... yeah," Cruella said. She tried meeting everyone's eyes once. "But I have... family from there... They don't say Shrek's Piss. Just him."

"And what would we say if I said my dead mom called it that?" Axel asked.

"I would say I missed out twice on having a dad," Maverick said. "And my birth mom didn't want me."

"My parents fucked off," Eddie said.

"Dead dad here, too," Stevie said.

Cruella was silent but nobody at the table was willing to ask why—what was her business was her business.

"Drinks are on me," Axel said. Because the look on his face was like everyone had taken a turn using his kidneys as punching bags.

"I think I'm kind of morally obligated to get the next round, actually," Moxie said.

"So true," Axel said, "how dare you?"

"To answer your question, though," Moxie said, "I would grab a Ouija board and tell your mom to stop calling it that."

"500 Canterbury Street if you want to head over and say hi," Axel said. Like it wasn't the most insane thing that had ever come out of his mouth in a history of insane things coming out of his mouth.

Moxie's eyes nearly bugged out of her head. "You're kidding me."

"I really wish I was." Axel made a sour expression that reminded Eddie of the time Chess said he looked like Kermit the Frog. They might've been right. Eddie had to look away and give his leg a small pat with her hand in her only effort to console him on the matter.

"I'm not sure how I feel about this," Cruella said.

"Respectfully, I need everyone to stop bumming me out right now," Stevie said. "Drink the damn Shrek's Piss."

"Thanks for buying, Moxie," Axel said. And down the hatch the Shrek's Piss went. Not a drop left behind.

"Okay," Moxie said. "But next round is on the straight man."

"Fair enough." Axel paused for a moment. "Hey, Mav, can I borrow—"

"Why—"

"Because I got three tickets—"

"Axel," Cruella said. "Didn't you just get paid?"

"Twice?" Eddie added.

Axel looked around the table. "We do recognize it was almost $400 to get here and I'm a photographer, right?"

"Axel," Stevie said. "I told you the flight was only $150."

"The train's eco-friendly."

"Not wallet-friendly," Eddie said.

"What's your carbon footprint from getting pulled over in a rental car?" Moxie asked.

"Zero because I turned the car off."

"Guess that makes up for the part where you were going 125," Moxie said. "You should produce a documentary."

"Can I stick to buying drinks with Maverick's money?"

"I did not agree to pay for drinks."

"You're the worse boss ever."

"Get us some top shelf stuff, Ax man," Stevie said.

Maverick stared at her. "Stevie—"

"Don't think you're not still paying the consequences of what was on your face earlier."

"I can't wait for my album to come out," Maverick said, crossing his arms. "I hope you fucking cry."

"It won't be as hard as how I'm sure Everleigh's been crying sleeping next to that thing." Stevie must've been thrown off her orbit from that moustache because she didn't even pretend she didn't listen to his music.

"Should've taken the dog and left you with the new pet," Eddie said.

"Axel told me it was okay."

"You said do you want to get in the booth and I said okay," Axel said. "Don't twist that—"

"I'm paying for your round of drinks and you couldn't give that to me?" Maverick asked.

"I'm not being held responsible for you looking like Chick Hicks," Axel said. (At least he hadn't said Bob Belcher—a cartoon he agreed was objectively attractive.) (And Rush? For some unknown reason.) (Maybe Eddie had spent too much time around him to think of him as anything other than disgusting—the protein shake farts in the dressing room alone solidified that.)

"I can't believe you'd let Lightning McQueen down like this," Stevie said. "I just know he's as disappointed in you as I am."

Maverick leaned his chin on his fist, a little too smugly. "You should call him and confirm that, Stev."

"Oh, I will." Stevie pulled her phone out typed quickly. Brendon was put on speakerphone immediately. He answered after a single ring. "Hey, babe. You're never gonna believe what happened earlier. I walked into the venue after Maverick and Eddie finally showed up three hours late, and he had a damn rodent on his face. Quite literally the worst thing I've ever seen. I just sent you the picture, did you get it?"

"Uh..." Brendon started hesitantly. Unusual for the F1 racer. "I didn't get anything but I know what you're talking about."

Stevie's eye twitched a little. "What do you mean?"

"Mav, well, sent me all his progress pics," Brendon said. "I told him it looked good."

Maverick's grin was the widest it had been since that fucking article had come out and potentially beyond that. It's what Eddie imagined he looked like running into Everleigh for the first time.

"You told him what—"

"Is he there?" Brendon asked. "I don't think this phone call is a safe space right now."

"Present," Maverick said. "You can go ahead."

"Did you accidentally tell her you let me listen to the album and so you used the moustache to deflect?" Brendon asked. "I thought you were gonna shave it before she found out."

Maverick looked over his shoulder, probably trying to find the nearest exit. "I—Um. About that."

"I'm gonna need someone to roll that back for me one more time." Stevie closed her eyes like she was taking a moment to count to ten before she tore Maverick limb from limb.

"I don't think you do," Maverick said. A vigorous headshake.

"Brendon," Stevie said. Anything other than a pet name was bad news for Brendon Ellis. "Do you have anything you would like to say?"

"What... what do you mean by that exactly?"

"I mean do you have any final words for Maverick before I end the call and murder him?"

Maverick tried to slide out of his seat and Stevie grabbed a fistful of his hair to stop him. He slapped a hand over his mouth to keep from yelling out as she sat him back down in his chair.

"Good knowing you, man," Brendon managed.

Moxie leaned over. "That was a great win last week, Bash."

"Thank you," Brendon whispered. He cleared his throat. "Gotta go now. Bye, love you."

"Love you—" Maverick said.

Stevie hung up mid-confession. "Now get over here you little man-stealing, fugly moustache wearing, spork of a human being—"

Maverick went to run and caught his foot on his chair. Nearly faceplanted but mostly caught himself on a nearby table. "I might have one on my phone don't touch me—"

"It's too late," Stevie said. "You've already betrayed me."

"I'm down to listen to it if you survive the next five minutes," Cruella said.

Maverick grabbed his phone out of his pocket and tossed it to Cruella, who easily caught it. "It's yours. Consider it my gift to you in my will. Passcode's 1212."

"Hey Cruella," Stevie said. Only distracted for a moment to rub in Maverick's face what his betrayal meant. "Do you want to hear a new MARS song for the next album? We've already finished three of them and I have no one else to show them to."

"Oh my god, yes," Cruella said, "of course!"

"I can't believe you," said the hypocrite.

Stevie shoved her hand in Maverick's face. "Axel, you should listen too. I think you'd like these ones. Need a trustworthy man's opinion."

"Does that exist?" Moxie asked.

"Yeah, his name's Bash," Maverick said. "And I'm going to send him the entire album when it's done months in advance."

Stevie glared at him. "He won't listen to it when I tell him he's no longer getting any more blo—"

"Axel," Moxie said. "Now's a good time to get that next round."

"You think adding more alcohol to this is a good idea?" Axel asked. The most intelligent thing he'd ever said.

"I don't think it's the worst idea." Eddie and her three concussions might've been talking too loudly but the bar itself was already too noisy so who was she to stop herself?

"Yamaguchi," Axel said. "Can I borrow—"

"Oh my god." Eddie dug her credit card out of her wallet and handed it to him. Maybe also not her best idea but she had a streak going and she couldn't stop. "Go. Now."

"I'll help you carry them," Cruella said.

The two of them jumped out of their seats and sprinted toward the bar counter before anyone else could volunteer. Which meant Moxie and Eddie were tasked with making sure Stevie and Maverick didn't kill each other.

A tall task when Cruella had left Maverick's phone on the table.

"Is that..." Stevie's eyes widened. "Did she just..."

"That's her phone," Maverick said. "She has mine."

Eddie tapped the phone so it lit up—although it would've been hard to convince anyone that Cruella Queen's phone had that many scratches and chips in it. If the home button still existed, there was no doubt Maverick's would be dangling off the phone by a single wire. "Why would Cruella's phone wallpaper be your girlfriend flipping her off—"

Maverick grinned like the cheesy in love asshole that he was. "Because Everleigh's pretty. Why don't you have her as your wallpaper?"

"Everleigh is actually my wallpaper, so I guess that's my phone," Stevie said. "I should take it back—"

"Oh, wait," Maverick said, "that is my phone."

It didn't take a genius to know that had there been a pitcher of beer on the table, it would've been trampled by hurricane Stevie meeting tornado Kingston lunging for the twister's phone. The table nearly came down from the impact, their chairs close casualties. Stevie turned away from him to try and make him let go but Maverick allowed the hyperextension to keep his grip on the phone. Moxie caught one of the drinks before it flew off the table and took a long sip from it.

"Get your grubby hands off it," Stevie said. "It's mine—"

"This is like reading my diary—"

"I have legal rights to read your fuckin' diary you goddamn spoon," Stevie said. "Get away from me or I'm shoving a fuckin' dirty sock jellybean up your nose."

Eddie was arguably the strongest person at the table, but even she didn't want to step in and interfere with nature. "Stop the violence," she managed in a monotone.

"I had to stop them from singing Defying Gravity," Moxie said, "so that's about all the work I can complete today."

"They aren't—Some of those aren't done yet—You can't listen—"

"If they're done enough for the Piston Cup champ, they're done enough for me, you artichoke—"

"Everleigh hasn't even heard these, Stev, come on—"

Stevie put Maverick in a tight headlock that made his eyes bug out of his head a little bit. A portrait of their friendship in one fail swoop. "Ask me if I care while I use my court appointed visitation rights to your phone."

"You're so nosey—" Maverick made a last ditch attempt to distract Stevie from exploring the inner workings of his heart by squirting an inhuman amount of ketchup on her stack of fries. Which, in Stevie's world was basically a war crime.

"Oh, that's..." Moxie pinched the bridge of her nose.

Stevie gasped. "You traitorous, disgusting human being—" Obviously the next step was to take a handful of fries and stuff them into Maverick's face as she let go of him so none of it got on her. "Choke."

"You—ugh. Stevie." Maverick took every single napkin on the table to wipe the dip off him. (Eddie grabbed a clean one from his hand and quickly cleaned off his jaw where he'd missed.) "You fucking potato."

"I think that means you're the potato," Moxie said. Not hiding her amusement as she let out a laugh.

Stevie took one glance at Maverick's phone and it unlocked for her. Because of course she had her facial ID on his cell. It was less surprising Stevie had access to it that way than it was that the device that had been seemingly been dropped every single time Maverick picked it up even had working facial ID. "If I'm an annoying rutabaga who wants to deprive my best friend of her rights, where would I—ah, yes right here." Her eyes widened. "Wait, is this the tracklist—"

"No."

"Obviously it is because no one else would title a song sparkling raspberry lemonade."

"That's my grocery list."

"Don't get the one from Trader Joe's," Moxie said. "It tastes like that drink they use to test for gestational diabetes."

Eddie had to agree. August had insisted one day that it was delicious and gifted her an entire bottle. The one sip Eddie took from it was too much.

"I already know I'm going to punch you in the face for how to sign i love you," Stevie said. She narrowed her eyes at the phone screen. "What is fire signs about?"

"Everleigh," Maverick said. Without hesitation. Which made it feel like more of a lie than it already felt like. "She's a Sagittarius. If you didn't know. What a terrible girlfriend you are."

"Oh, I guess you won't mind me listening to this file titled fire signs demo then—"

Maverick turned a shade of red that looked both embarrassed and mad and feverish all at the same time. "That's Bash's least favourite. You should listen to something better if you're going to listen."

"I'll provide notes then since you need them apparently."

"I'll ask Moxie later. It's fine."

"I happen to be free right now," Moxie said. Maverick should've known she would never side with a man in a fight, especially one against a woman. "Go for it."

"It's loud in here." Maverick's persistence was admirable if nothing else. In his own pathetic way. "Don't want to drown it out to work on it."

Moxie immediately dug through her fanny pack and pulled out a pair of headphones, tossing them to Stevie. "Never leave the house without these. We can take turns."

"Why do lesbians always have everything, fucking Christ—" Maverick threw a hand in the air.

"I also have a tape measure in here in case we need to figure out how big that ketchup stain on your shirt is," Moxie said.

"You could spend so much time measuring stains on his shirt," Eddie said.

Maverick glared at her. "Oh, welcome to the conversation."

"Fuck you," Eddie said. "Stev, I'll hold him to the ground while you listen."

"Hey—"

"Kicking and screaming, Mav," Eddie said. Because it wouldn't take much to get him on the ground. She didn't have to use much strength for that one. "Try me."

"I kind of want to see this," Moxie said.

"I also vote yes on Eds kicking Maverick's ass," Stevie said.

"I—" Maverick stared at the trio of women fully against him at that moment. "No."

"Sorry," Stevie said. "Men don't get to participate in this vote."

"I can't believe the suffragettes fought for this—" Maverick said.

"Too far, Mav," Eddie said.

Stevie ran behind Eddie and shoved the headphones in her ears. "Pressing play. No one bother me."

"Stev," Maverick tried to no avail, "I really wouldn't."

"Don't bother her," Moxie said.

"Yeah, don't bother her," Cruella said.

If the song went how it was expected, it was a terrible time for Cruella and Axel to return to the table carrying drinks.

"What's going on?" Cruella asked, leaning toward Eddie.

"Maverick has a song definitely not about Stevie."

"Oh. That explains the..." Cruella had a way of looking at Maverick that questioned his sanity to the umpteenth degree. And she was right to do so. "...blood bath."

Axel looked ready to throw up. "It's really tomatoey over here."

"That's what you took from that?" Eddie patted his leg, once again already pressed into her knee. "Is it nice in your world?"

"Um—I—Yeah."

Stevie was in the middle of her listening party when Moxie stole the phone from her. The grip wasn't tight which meant Maverick had shut her up in either the best or worst way possible.

The songwriter in question was frozen in place—couldn't even look around to find the nearest exit and fling himself into traffic. A look of terror on his face.

Moxie started making her way through his phone as Stevie listened. Eddie looked over and tucked herself closely into Moxie without touching the other woman. She tilted the phone in Eddie's direction so they could both snoop through Maverick's soul. The typed out lyrics were devastating enough, Eddie couldn't imagine them with music. To be a musician was far too vulnerable for Eddie—putting someone in the hospital or going to the hospital herself she could do, air out her laundry for the world? Never.

Met my soulmate / at a stalemate / at the bottom of my life

Thought I'd sailed straight / into the wake / I was fighting to survive

Couldn't breathe / I clenched my teeth / clawed my way up the coastline

Aloha to the sea / Smoking signal heath / it was my twin fire sign

Moxie and Eddie looked at each other briefly before looking at Stevie, who was removing her headphones. Gently placed them in Moxie's hands—the woman looked as if she'd been handed a ticking time bomb with no training to diffuse it before the clock ran out.

"So," Stevie managed. "Does anyone have any last words for Maverick?"

Rest in peace to Kingston Maverick, 1994-2024. Nearly made it to 30. Caused chaos every step of the way.

"Do the rest of us get to listen to it?" Cruella asked.

"To be fair, Stevie wasn't supposed to listen to it until my—until it dropped." Maverick sighed. Stood in place like he'd stared into Medusa's eyes and had turned to stone. If anyone had that power over him, it was Stevie. "Go ahead, but I literally don't want to hear what you think about it, it's a fucking demo it's not done yet."

"But it's Bash's least favourite," Moxie said. She could've pushed the newly minted statue off the roof of the bar and shattered him into a million pieces. "Gotta give our two cents."

"Maybe I'll just cute it—" Maverick threatened.

Stevie wiped away her tears aggressively. "Do you want me to die and find a way to resurrect myself just so I can make sure to take you with me because I will—"

Maverick crossed his arms. "I told you not to listen, Stev."

"And you thought that would work?" Eddie contemplated punching him in the shoulder for that one but kept her fists to herself.

"She deserves to cry in a public place," Maverick said. "Nosey."

Stevie glared at him. "I'm about to make you cry so hard you won't even be able to read headlines all about it tomorrow—"

"Here's your drinks," Cruella said. Because at her heart, she was a fairy princess and sprinkled her magic pixie dust over the two fires. "I'll be right back, okay?"

"Are we that doomed that we're already getting more drinks?" Moxie asked. "At a time like this?"

"I'm doing the Lord's work, okay, babe?" Cruella tapped Moxie's chin with her pixie dust as well and went along her way.

Eddie decided to be polite instead of commenting on Moxie's googly eyes following Cruella as she left.

"Mox," Maverick said. "Should we be scared?"

Moxie shook her head if only to snap herself out of her fairy princess trance. "How many times do I have to tell men they should always be scared of women?"

"God, Mav," Axel chided, "learn the lesson."

"I'm bisexual, I'm scared of men, too—"

"Character flaw," Moxie said.

"At least you don't have to be scared of a mirror anymore," Eddie said, poking him where his moustache had been.

"Not to be alarming," Stevie said, "but I think I actually just died."

"Quick question—" Maverick held his hand up. "—how many fingers, Stev?"

Stevie slapped him. No hesitation. No second thoughts.

"Ow," Maverick said. A hand on his cheek. Less red than his upper lip. "Yeah, you're fine. Fuck you."

"Fuck you."

When Cruella rejoined the group, Moxie all but opened up the gates of hell for her to walk through and take whatever she needed. "Stevie, baby, I think I know just what you need to feel better."

Eddie didn't know why that sounded threatening to the rest of them, but it did. There was not a single blonde hair out of place and it felt like every single one was scheming.

"Oh no—" Moxie fought what was surely a pointed slap to her own forehead.

"Elphaba, why couldn't you have stayed calm for once?" Cruella sang in that wonderful voice Eddie worked out to. A siren's song for the ages.

The opening notes to the song Eddie heard at the drag show brought a smile to Stevie's tear-stained face. Moxie, though she'd had a lot of fun at the drag show—who wouldn't—looked like she was about to be sick.

"I hope you're happy—" Stevie sang.

Maverick gasped. As if he wasn't allowed to join in anytime Stevie sang. "Traitor."

"I hope you're proud how you would—" Stevie shoved Maverick away with a swift hand to the face once more. "—grovel in submission—"

"Oh, I'm cutting fire signs," Maverick said even though nobody was listening to him. Maybe that was half the diva he'd described when Eddie laid with him on the studio floor that day. "Throw it on the fucking floor."

"Elphie, listen to me, just say you're sorry—" Cruella gave Maverick a pointed look with a perfectly plucked raised eyebrow.

He looked ill. "Why would I say I'm sorry?"

Moxie rolled her eyes. "Such a boy."

"I have apologized so many times when I was wrong—"

"Except this one," Eddie said.

Moxie crossed her arms. "Can't believe you're letting Axel of all people be the better man at this table."

Axel grinned. "I was always the—"

"Something has changed within me—"

"Quit while you're ahead," Eddie said. She put her hand on his leg again to get his attention in the loud bar.

"Uh—" Axel gulped loud enough that Eddie could hear it. "You got it."

"Eddie, before I forget," Moxie said. Pulling Eddie's attention away from psychoanalyzing every emotion that flew onto Axel's face. "Did you know that Axel once won a national ballet competition?"

"Wait what?" Eddie punched Axel in the shoulder. Destruction shouldn't have always been her first instinct. "You didn't tell me that."

"You didn't ask." Eddie might've punched him again if he wasn't the colour of his homemade tomato sauce. It was worse with all the fur glued on him.

"How the fuck would I know to ask about that?"

Moxie laughed. Sipped her drink. "Perhaps he can show you how to brisé vole."

Eddie gaped at him. "What the hell is that and can you explain by showing it to me?"

Axel shook his head. "I can't do it now. I haven't danced consistently in, like, fourteen years."

"I think I'll try defying gravity—"

"You heard the lady," Moxie said. "Defy gravity, Axel."

"Not the right shoes."

"An artist never blames their tools."

"Well—" Axel started. Eddie didn't have enough time to warn him not to say, "—I'm the tool then."

"Sure are, buddy."

"Thanks, Mox." Axel blew her an air kiss. Confident for someone Moxie could easily take down.

Moxie could've gagged. Did make an awful noise as she swatted away the fake kiss. "Does someone have an extra bottle of ketchup that I can use?"

Cruella joined them. Easily fitting in between Moxie and Axel. "Hey, Axe man. You can read sheet music, right?"

"Yes, I can, Queen."

"Okay, I need you to hold this." Cruella handed Axel her phone with a lot more confidence than Eddie would've. "You'll need it soon."

Moxie didn't hide her distaste. Probably still reeling from the air kiss she had to fight off. "I can't believe you're trusting him with Defying Gravity."

"I can't believe she's trusting him to read," Eddie said.

"I can read sheet music." Axel let out a small snort of a laugh in Eddie's direction.

Moxie didn't look convinced. "Can you read the lyrics, though?"

"Yes."

Stevie and Maverick locked eyes as only soulmates could do. Eddie truly didn't understand what Wicked meant to any of them on a deep level, but it was easy to see what it meant to them on the surface level. Camaraderie, love.

"Together, we're unlimited. Together we'll be the greatest team there's ever been—"

"We had one job," Moxie said, dismayed.

Cruella clapped her hands. A magician. "Sorry, but us theatre kids take an oath."

"And what oath would that be?" Moxie asked. "Subject Chicago to a seventh performance of the same song in one night?"

"It's for the greater good."

"It's For Good," Maverick said.

Cruella glared at him. "You're gonna miss your line, you dick—"

"Just you and I—" Maverick didn't miss a beat. That was probably due to him being late for everything else in his life. Inconvenience everyone else for the sake of the music.

"Valient effort," Moxie said. "From most of us, at least."

Cruella looked at Axel, her eyes wide. "Axel, are you following along? Promise me you were telling the truth that you can read—"

"Yes, I can read—" Axel looked sick at his next confession. "You guys know I got into MIT right?"

Eddie kept it to herself he dropped out after six weeks. A gift to him, really. Though she contemplated whether he deserved it because he was still manspreading into her. She tried not to consider what else that meant to her in positive terms. It was embarrassing. Moxie would probably drag her out of the bar by her ear to tell her how embarrassing it was, and she'd be right for it.

Moxie looked less than amused. "That don't impress me much."

It didn't take much to realize the power of that song when Stevie and Maverick sang it together. The way their voices blended together was beautiful in a way that transcended understanding of the deeper meanings. They'd never be mad at each other for that long—especially after a type-written love letter. (Type-written so Stevie could actually read it, of course.) (Not even soulmates could translate that chicken scratch.)

And in a way only Cruella Queen could orchestrate, she got everyone else at their table involved in the harmonies. Even Eddie, who tried her best to follow along where Axel was pointing but ultimately got lost, mumbled her way through the end of the song. She wasn't needed in the sea of incredible voices. Destined to sing together until the end of time in every capacity possible.

A world blessed with their jukebox musical lives was a good world.