Chapter 36

As she drew closer and closer to the living room, she could make out bits of dialogue; it was the usual mostly: snide comments and barbed insults followed by the sound of scoffing, peppered with a healthy dose of pontificating from both parties. Neither seemed to have addressed the elephant in the room. Apparently they were saving that particular conversation for her arrival.

"Lucky me." she thought grimly, rubbing her temples in an attempt to assuage the headache that had already begun to set in.

By the time she entered both men had stopped talking, simultaneously turning to meet her.

"Hello darling!" Derek said, pasting on a sarcastic smile as he made a show of greeting her, all but sticking his tongue out at Tom. Ivy rolled her eyes. His immaturity was astounding. Deciding it would be easier to deal with the situation head on she grabbed Tom by his sleeve and pulled him into the corner of the room.

"Look Tom, I know that you don't like it but Derek and I are together. I spend time here. You have to accept that." Tom shook his head softly and put a hand on her shoulder.

"You don't know him like I do Ivy." he told her, peering down at her. His eyes were opened wide, filled with genuine concern, looking like her father whenever he'd had to explain why Leigh couldn't make it to yet another one of Ivy's shows.

"Oh, bloody hell! She's not a child Tom." Derek called out from across the room, flopping down on the couch and picking up his script.

"No. But you are." Tom shot back. He turned back to Ivy.

"I just want to protect you." he added.

"From what?" she asked, now slightly irritated. If he was going to interfere in her love life, he needed to give her a reason to question what had, up until now, been a relatively successful, if somewhat tumultuous relationship. Vague aspersions on Derek's character weren't enough. Not now, not anymore.

"Yes, he can be a jerk sometimes but that's hardly new for me." Derek, still eavesdropping, made a noise that suggested something akin to offense at this, but a quick look from both Ivy and Tom had him shrugging his shoulders in agreement as he returned to his reading. Ivy continued, lowering her voice.

"What's so terrible about him Tom? You keep saying he's an awful person, but you've never explained to me why. Honestly, if there's something I don't know about, tell me." She was met with silence as Tom's eyebrows furrowed.

"See, that's what I..." But before she could finish her sentence, Tom was guiding her back to where Derek was sitting. He deposited her on the chair directly opposite the director, taking a seat on Derek's right. Ivy looked at him, confusion written across her face.

"I thought it was only fair that you hear it from both sides." he said, as if that was supposed to make things clearer.

"I'm sure you already know this but there was a time when Derek and I were friends, close friends actually." Tom began. Ivy stared at him, completely flabbergasted.

It wasn't that the information itself was new. She had a reasonably good idea of what he was talking about. She'd heard about it from Lyle and Charles and done some of her own research, she knew enough to piece together what had happened but she'd never tried to breach the subject with either of the involved individuals, nor had she expected them to bring it up with her.

Tom glanced at the other man, as if expecting Derek to finish the story, like it was one of those bad add-a-word improv games rather than his reputation the director would be putting on the line.

"I'll go last if that's alright with you." Derek told him derisively. Tom nodded distractedly, before starting in on his story.

"It was the last time we worked together before Bombshell. We were young, mid-twenties maybe." Tom began.

Despite herself, Ivy leaned forward. As bad as this could be for her and Derek, she couldn't deny that hearing about his past was intriguing.

"It wasn't working. I mean, it was terrible. This was before Julia and I started really writing together and I hadn't found my footing yet. Derek had just moved from London and didn't have a feel for New York audiences." Derek looked as if he were about to argue but then thought better of it, choosing instead to focus on Ivy. For a moment, she stopped listening to Tom, distracted by Derek's face. He seemed apprehensive, scared even. It wasn't a common emotion for him. Ivy had seen it only once before: on the night he'd told her about his father's visit. But he quickly noticed her staring and adjusted his expression accordingly. She averted her eyes, concentrating on Tom, an easy feat as he got more and more worked up.

"And then Charles, well, let's just say he pulled some strings and Derek ended up being 'the shining light in an otherwise dull show'." Tom continued.

"Essentially what he's saying is he's mad that I got good reviews and he didn't." Derek chimed in sardonically. Tom chose to ignore him.

"I could have dealt with that. I obviously wasn't expecting a huge hit right off the bat. But then Derek decided that it wasn't enough to be the savior of a bad show, he had to have a scapegoat. He went around and trashed me to everyone in town; blamed me for everything that went wrong in our production..." Tom opened his mouth to add something else but Derek cut him off.

"That is not what happened." But it sounded false even as he said it, more of an effort to stop Tom from speaking further than an actual refute of what had already been said.

Tom looked at her solemnly, Derek nervously. Ivy sat in silence, weighing what she'd just heard against what she knew about each man. Tom did have an aptitude for exaggeration and often misremembered things that hadn't gone his way. But then again, so did Derek. Ivy sighed. There was only one way to settle this. She turned to Derek.

"Your turn." Shock registered on his face. And then he was stuttering slightly, his tongue tripping over his words as he scrambled to cobble together a reasonable fabrication. Finally, he stopped, took a deep breath and said

"It's true. Most of it." Ivy had thought as much though she hadn't expected him to admit it to her, let alone Tom.

"Why?" she questioned calmly. His eyes flickered towards Tom.

"Do we have to talk about this now?" he asked, exasperation cloaking trepidation.

"He has as much of a right to know as I do." Derek nodded, his hand running through his hair, making it stand on end.

"There were rumors. My father was appearing in public with the Times critic who had praised my direction. And with people coming to see the show it was harder to pretend that... and well, Tom was there, indignant about what he thought was unwarranted success. Of course he conveniently forgot to mention that while I was 'trashing' him, he was doing the same thing to me..." he trailed off, fiddling with the stack of paper in front of him.

"What are you talking about? I did no such thing! Even if I had wanted to, I didn't have that kind of influence back then." Tom protested, his face flushed with anger.

"I didn't mean the critics. You turned the whole company against me." Tom scoffed, standing up and walking away as if the very thought offended him. But Ivy noticed an instantaneous change in his demeanor.

"You did that to yourself." he said, tossing his hair slightly. Tom was prone to excessive moralizing when he knew he was in the wrong. Ivy looked at him quizzically. Derek had told the truth, it was only fair that he did the same. Seeing her face, he relented.

"Fine. I may have sped the process along but they were headed there either way." he told Derek.

"You were insufferable. You worked everyone to the bone and took all the credit." he added, his voice growing louder and louder.

"I had something to prove." Derek interjected.

"We all did Derek!" Tom was shouting now, his hands thrown up over his head.

"It's not the same. You don't understand" Derek said vehemently. And though Ivy knew she should be on Tom's side, in that moment, she took Derek's. Because what Tom couldn't grasp, what he would never fully comprehend, she had lived. She knew what it was to live in someone else's shadow, to never be certain that you'd earned anything. The only way to surmount it was to be better than your predecessor, and comparative success came with a timeline.

The room went still, only the sound of Tom's steps breaking the silence. He sat down again, facing Derek. He spoke, quiet but authoritative.

"You cannot push everyone away every time Charles comes into town."

"I don't. Not anymore." Derek replied, his words not defensive or forced, only blandly factual. Words that were unmistakably directed at Ivy. He knew. She knew. Tom knew.

And suddenly no amount of Marilyn Monroe could blur the lines. Not Marilyn, not Bombshell, not even theatre itself. This was serious. Terrifyingly, confusingly, beautifully serious. Somewhere between Ivy's complete stupefaction and Tom's bewilderment, Derek realized the magnitude of what he'd just said and frantically tried to backpedal but it was no use. There were some things you couldn't take back.

Tom, realizing he was caught in the middle of something he would rather not deal with, excused himself and departed without another word. Ivy wasn't bothered. There would be consequences eventually, but eventually seems very far off when your boyfriend just said something that might be better than/scarier than I love you.

She sat in silence for several minutes, thinking. About Charles and Eileen, Tom and Derek. About dreams and what you were willing to give up to achieve them. About parents and children and reconciliation. And she came to the realization there was no way of telling whether what she was about to do was the right thing; for her, for Derek, for anyone. And there was no way of knowing whether she was doing it for the right reasons, or which reasons were the right ones to begin with. There was only action and inaction, and she knew which one she needed to choose.

And so she walked over to him, set herself down beside him and took his hand in hers, indecision still playing heavily in her mind. In the end her voice came out in a whisper, soft enough that she could almost pretend she hadn't said it at all.

"I think you need to talk to your father."

A/N: So Smash is done. It was a flawed show but I'm going to miss it. Ah well, c'est la vie. We'll just have to help it live on by writing about it, right? Thanks to all those who follow, favorite or review. You guys are the best.