Apparently, Farrah Goodfairy had so many wingless friends she’d gotten used to walking. There were times when it was necessary for all fairies to walk—when the doorway was too narrow, the ceiling too low, or the hall too crowded. But Faybelle didn’t care if her wings knocked a few students off their feet. She always made a point of flying whenever she could. Everyone else should make room for her.
“Hi, Farrah.”
“How’s it going, Farrah?”
“Hi, Melody. It’s going great.”
Farrah waved to passersby as if she were in a pageant. She greeted this student and that student. They wished her happiness and health. Pleasantries were exchanged. She smiled. They smiled. She laughed. They laughed. It was some kind of mutual-appreciation festival. Even her mouse squeaked his greetings.
Faybelle, however, elicited the opposite reaction. Most of the students glanced warily at her or darted aside to avoid her wings. Well, I’m clearly not going to win a popularity contest, she realized. Normally, Faybelle wouldn’t give a twinkle about the Goodfairy’s social status, but the undeniable truth that Farrah was beloved could hurt Faybelle’s chances of being cast as the wicked fairy queen. Even though Justine had said she’d hold a fair audition, she’d definitely want the performances to be sold out. Farrah, with all her friends, would most likely draw a huge crowd. That fact alone could sway Justine’s decision. Faybelle’s eyes narrowed as she thought about all this.
Another reason to spy on Farrah and crush her chances!
Farrah Goodfairy’s room was tidy and quaint. No carrot tops littered the floor. Or turnips. Or any other stupid root vegetable. She’d made no decorating choices that would be considered trendy or bold, which surprised Faybelle. She would have thought a fairy who focused on appearances so much would have a much louder room. But the simple decor sort of fit with Farrah’s personality—sweet and friendly. There was a canopied bed, lots of soft pillows, and an overstuffed chair that looked very inviting. And the paint, bedspread, pillows, and wallpaper palette were all variations of one color.
“What’s the deal with you and the color blue?” Faybelle asked.
“It’s my favorite color,” Farrah said. Then she pointed to her hair. “Can you blame me? Blue is with me all the time. I’m so lucky. Plus my roommate, Meeshell, also loves blue. She says it reminds her of the ocean.”
Of course the mermaid would like blue, Faybelle thought. She didn’t admit that all the blue hues actually made her feel relaxed. If she had this room, she’d nap all the time, which would be fine if she were Briar Beauty, but not fine for a fairy who was trying to become the wickedest, vilest, darkest Dark Fairy ever after!
Faybelle stifled a yawn, and her gaze traveled across a vast corkboard. Unlike her own room, there was no family crest with the motto Doers of Dark Magic. Instead, Farrah had covered the corkboard with photos of friends. There she was, smiling with Apple White, taking a selfie with Ashlynn Ella, and posing with Blondie. And there she was with Justine, at a party that Faybelle hadn’t been invited to since she was the daughter of the Dark Fairy, who never got invited to anything. And another photo of her and Justine at the Hocus Latte Café.
“You and Justine are friends?” Faybelle hissed.
“Sure. I’m friends with most everyone,” Farrah said simply.
Faybelle spun around and glared at her competitor. “Oh, isn’t that a delightful coincidence,” she said, her voice dripping with insinuation. “You’re auditioning for a play, and you just happen to be friends with the director.”
“That won’t matter,” Farrah said, her cheeks reddening. “Justine will choose based on talent.”
“Uh-huh. You expect me to believe that?” Faybelle pointed to another photo, and another. “You two apparently go to a lot of parties together. Did you see me at any of those parties?”
The ensuing silence was as thick as the Castleteria porridge. Farrah opened her mouth, then closed it. She clearly didn’t know what to say. How could she admit that she’d gone to all those parties without hurting Faybelle’s feelings? She was momentarily paralyzed by her niceness. How pitiful.
“Just so you know, I don’t get invited to parties, because it’s my curse. It’s not because people dislike me.”
“I’m sure it’s not,” Farrah said politely.
“The curse makes them forget to invite me. That’s how it works. It’s the same curse my mom has. That’s why she wasn’t invited to the celebration of Sleeping Beauty’s birth. Got it?”
“Okay.” Farrah nodded as if she understood. “I’m sorry you have that curse.”
They stared at each other. The realization that Farrah felt sorry for her only made Faybelle more upset.
Spindle woke from his nap and started yapping. Faybelle placed the pet carrier onto the carpet, then set Spindle free. The puppy leaped out and immediately pounced on a sock, chewing it to bits.
“Don’t worry about the sock,” Farrah said. “I can always fix it later.”
“Who said I was worried?” Faybelle darted over to Farrah’s desk. It was piled high with books—utterly boring titles like:
101 Things You Can Do With a Pumpkin
How to Turn a Mouse into a House and Other Affordable Decorating Tips
From Rags to Riches: How to Make Her Look Like a Princess
Faybelle picked up a book with a well-worn cover and read its title. “Does Everything Have to End at Midnight? Why are you reading this?”
As Farrah set her mouse into his little mouse castle, she explained. “All fairy godmothers would like their spells to last longer, but we have to accept the midnight decree. Whenever I start to question this rule, I read this book, and it reminds me that midnight is part of my story and I should be grateful that I’m given the opportunity to help others, even if it’s only temporary.”
“Why don’t you try to change the rule?”
“Change it?”
“Sure.” Faybelle lowered her voice and whispered in an ominous way, “With dark magic.”
“Oh no, I’d never do that.” Farrah’s gaze darted around. She looked like she wanted to run from the room. To run from the words themselves. Dark magic. “A Goodfairy shouldn’t even think about dark magic. You know that.”
A knock on the door broke the tension. “Farrah?” Apple White entered the room. “Oh, hello, Faybelle. How fairy, fairy odd to see you here.” She walked up to Farrah and stuck out her right leg. “I’m going to dinner tonight with Daring, Darling, and Dexter, and my tights have a run. I called my dwarf network, but they can’t get me a new pair until tomorrow. I’d be royally grateful if you’d—”
“Of course.” Farrah flicked her wand. A few musical notes and some fairy dust drifted through the air, and—voilà—the tights were good as new.
“Thank you!” Apple squealed with delight. “I wish my story had a fairy godmother. You’re the best. I owe you one.” She hugged Farrah. Faybelle rolled her eyes. Why so much happiness? It was just a pair of tights. It’s not as if Farrah had made any lasting impact on the world.
Faybelle told herself that the only reason Apple was fond of Farrah was because of the Goodfairy’s ability to mend tights and do other menial things like that. But deep down Faybelle knew better. Apple, like most of the students at Ever After High, truly liked Farrah because Farrah was nice. She cared. She helped. And if Faybelle hadn’t been so overscheduled and on a villain trajectory, she might have taken some time to hang out with Farrah.
Oh my godmother. Am I starting to like her, too?
Faybelle pushed that crazy thought from her head. “Don’t you get tired of helping everyone?” she asked after Apple had left the room.
“Well, sometimes it’s a bit tiring, I admit that.” Farrah sat on her bed and slipped off her blue shoes. “But it’s my duty and my destiny to help others. You know, I think that’s why I’d like to be in this play. I’m always behind the scenes. I’m always the supporting role. It would be fun to be the star of the show, just one time. To be… important.”
Behind the scenes? Faybelle tried to remember the details of Farrah’s story. “You turn mice into horses, a rat into a coachman, and a pumpkin into a coach. That’s very important.” She couldn’t hide her sarcasm. And she didn’t try.
Farrah frowned. “I know you don’t think my magic is significant, not compared with the kind of power you’ll have. But sometimes being able to change the way something looks does more than simply change the surface. It’s not just about making Apple look good. If she feels good, and she has confidence, then she feels empowered. That kind of attitude can change someone’s destiny.”
Faybelle leaned against the desk and folded her arms. “Changing someone’s destiny is the talk of a rebel.”
“I’m not…” Farrah straightened her back and held her head high. “It’s my duty to serve others. That’s what I do. And I’m proud to serve.”
And it’s my duty to serve no one.
But enough with the boring chitchat. “So, what about your monologue?”
“Oh right, the monologue.” Farrah smiled. She hurried to her desk and grabbed a book. “I almost forgot. Have you read Shannon Pale’s version of the Sleeping Beauty story?” Faybelle shook her head. “Well, it’s very good, especially the scene where the Dark Fairy bursts into the castle and confronts the king and queen. I chose that speech.”
Faybelle clenched her jaw. Farrah Goodfairy was about to perform the part of the story that belonged to Faybelle’s mother! Sure, it was a fictional version, written by a bestselling author, but it annoyed her to the core. “Go ahead,” Faybelle said as she slowly sat on the edge of the desk. “Amaze me.” It would, of course, be a disastrous performance. Farrah had no instinct for villainy.
Farrah cleared her throat. With the book in one hand, she unfurled her wings and lifted herself above the bed. “Your Majesties,” she said, not in a sweet voice but in one that demanded attention. “Forgive my intrusion, but I couldn’t help noticing that you are in the middle of a party. Did you forget to mail my invitation? Perhaps it was lost.” Her brow furrowed, and her voice rose to a nearly thunderous level. “Surely you wouldn’t purposefully leave me off the guest list. You wouldn’t dare!” Spindle stopped chewing on the sock and dove under a pillow.
Faybelle could barely hide her surprise. The little Goodfairy was delivering the monologue like a pro. How had she conjured that powerful voice, the authoritative stance, the determination? One might think she’d been studying for years at a professional acting academy. If she was this good at the audition, there’d be a standing ovation for sure.
Any notion of liking or spending time with this Goodfairy disintegrated. This was a competition, and there could only be one winner. Somehow, some way, Faybelle had to stop Farrah from auditioning.
“Gotta go,” Faybelle announced, interrupting the stellar performance.
“But—”
“It’s getting late, and I have way too much to do.” She tossed the pillow aside, scooped Spindle into her arms, then set him back inside the carrier.
Farrah gently landed on the carpet. “But what about your monologue? You haven’t found one yet.”
“I already found it. I’m going to do the same monologue as you.” Faybelle grabbed the book from Farrah’s hand and took a photo of the page with her MirrorPhone.
But instead of acting concerned or accusing Faybelle of copying, Farrah just smiled. “Oh, that’s a hexcellent idea,” she said. “I think it will be fun if we both do the same monologue.”
Of course she thought it would be fun, Faybelle thought. She didn’t have a competitive bone in her body.
Which is why she is doomed to lose!
“See you at the audition,” Farrah called as Faybelle hurried down the hall. “I hope I helped you.”
Oh, you’ve no idea how much you helped, Faybelle thought.