“FENNY,” the familiar voice screamed from the theatre.

“Crap,” Fenny groaned and wandered out onto the stage, expecting a rather viscous tirade about the floral penis.

“That shadowing is too dark,” the director announced.

“It’s a shadow, it’s what shadows do,” Fenny replied, bewildered.

“Sebastian is offended by it, lighten it,” the director hissed.

Fenny rolled her eyes as Paul appeared carrying the paint and brushes. They began to quietly work on the backdrop as the director ordered Sebastian to practice his song: “The Rose” by Bette Midler.

“I can’t hear you…project, darling,” the director demanded as he scurried up the back of the theatre. Sebastian tried again, and after five seconds the director yelled, “LOUDER!”

“He looks like he’s about to pop a vein,” Fenny mused.

“His breathing’s all wrong,” Paul said pointedly.

“Yeah, why don’t you do it,” Fenny perked.

“Me? And destroy the poor boy?” Paul gasped.

“Go on, I dare you,” Fenny smiled wickedly.

Paul raised an eyebrow and smiled as Sebastian tried to sing. Paul turned around, paintbrush in hand, and within his first few words, had drowned out Sebastian,

Some say love, it is a river

That drowns the tender reeds

Some say love, it is a razor

That leads your soul to bleed

Some say love, it is a hunger

A endless aching need

I say love, it is a flower

And you, its only seed

Paul held his final note for several seconds, his voice echoing around the theatre. The director dropped his pencil and looked stunned. His assistant spilt her coffee in her lap. Sebastian looked devastated, like a small child whose puppy had just been run over.

“Lighter, you said?” Paul smiled and turned back to the set.

“Saucer of milk for Pauly,” Fenny giggled.

“Excuse me, small man with the paintbrush,” the director babbled as he rushed up on stage.

“We’re lightening as fast as we can,” Paul said blankly.

“Oh forget that, your voice, it’s…it’s…” the director breathed.

“Fucking brilliant,” Fenny cut in.

“Yes,” the director scorned, narrowing his eyes at her. He turned back to Paul gleefully. “I don’t suppose you’d be interested in, well, the lead role in this production?”

Paul studied the director for a moment. “You know,” he mused, crossing his arms and looking at the roof. “If it wasn’t for the comedy gigs, television appearances and huge Australian musical I’m working on, I’d be more than happy to take part in your pissant little fucking performance thing that my wife has nearly re-written for you. Because let’s face it, it’s a bit shithouse isn’t it? No, far be it for me to take away this chance, this one attempt at a dodgy review in a street mag, this feeble attempt at fame from Sebastian here. This is letting his talent shine where it’s most apt. I mean Jesus mate, this is almost anti-fame.”

The director’s mouth opened and closed a few times, and then he walked away without saying a word. Paul turned back to the backdrop.

“Don’t take this the wrong way,” Fenny giggled, putting her hand on his arm. “But I love you.”

Gina walked across the carpark toward her car. She nearly died when she approached it and saw Greg leaning against the driver’s side.

“I had a feeling you’d turn up,” he smiled.

“I only came to see Brad,” Gina declared, and stuck her hand into her bag to hunt out her keys.

“Why are you avoiding me?” he asked, stepping away from the car.

“I’m not avoiding you,” she lied weakly as she approached him.

“Bullshit,” he spat. He hadn’t meant to, it had just come out that way. “You’re doing it again. One minute you’re all over me, the next minute you won’t go near me.”

Gina felt herself falling into the same pathetic femme fatal she always did when around Greg. Then she remembered how she’d told Paul she’d loved him, and she’d meant it.

“I’m trying to sort out my marriage Greg, perhaps you should do the same,” she breathed and pushed past him to unlock the car.

“What? What about us?” he scorned.

“What about us, Greg? We don’t have a relationship, man, we have sex,” she spat.

“We have great sex.”

“I’m not eighteen, I need more than that,” she countered, her eyes catching his.

“I thought we did have more than that?”

“Well you thought wrong,” Gina breathed before slipping into the car. She started the engine and watched as Greg’s devastated expression was lost in the distance.

“I wish we had a radio,” Fenny sighed as she reached for some more white paint.

“Gee, that brings back some memories. Most of them painful,” Paul chuckled as he hunted for a larger paintbrush.

“Do you know, I’d completely forgotten about that,” Fenny mused.

Paul turned to her with a shocked expression, which totally cracked Fenny up. Fenny was amazed – last night had been one of the most horrible experiences of her life, and now her sides ached from laughing so much at Paul. Any other time she wouldn’t have been able to get out of bed, or stop crying. There was something quite empowering about internally being devastated but physically being happy.

Fenny watched as Paul began to dance to imaginary music. She wandered over to the backdrop as he began to sing,

Oh on the day I was born

The nurses all gathered round

And they gazed to the wide wonder

At the joy they had found

The head nurse spoke up

She said “Leave this one alone”

She could tell right away

That I was bad to the bone

Bad to the bone

Fenny couldn’t help but smile and then joined in the chorus. She noted a third voice chimed in. It was Gina, who looked equally amused.

Bad to the bone

Bbbb Bad

Bbbb Bad

Bbbb Bad

Bad to the bone

Paul turned to Gina and they danced together for a moment as he started on the next verse. Gina winked at him, and he strutted over to Fenny, who looked a bit scared. He snatched the paintbrush out of her hand and chucked it over his shoulder. It hit a costume designer in the head.

Broke a thousand hearts

Before I met you

I’ll break a thousand more baby

He put his hands on Fenny’s waist and began to slowly gyrate his hips. He did this down to her ankles and back up again. At one stage he was practically humping her leg like a dog. She turned bright red as Gina laughed hysterically.

Before I am through

I wanna be yours pretty baby

Yours and yours alone

I’m here to tell ya now honey

I’m bad to the bone

Paul’s performance was beginning to gather a crowd, and it didn’t take long for him to descend on them.

Bad to the bone

Bbbb Bad

Bbbb Bad

Bbbb Bad

Bad to the bone

I make a rich woman beg

He grabbed Gina and planted a kiss on her cheek

I make a poor woman steal

He went to kiss Sebastian then stepped back. “Oh sorry mate.”

I make an old woman lust

He strutted over to the director’s assistant, who was sitting in the corner and stuck his crotch in her face, giving it a little wiggle and watching her turn a rather bright shade of red.

And I make a young girl squeal

He whipped round to focus on the young girl he’d chased with a roller the previous day; she squealed and raced off. He rounded on Fenny again; she shook her head, pleading no. But he grabbed her and thrust his body next to hers.

I wanna be yours pretty baby

Yours and yours alone

I here to tell ya now honey

I’m bad to the bone

Bad to the bone

Bbbb Bad

Bbbb Bad

Bbbb Bad

Bad to the bone

“Please let me go,” Fenny begged.

Paul cackled and turned back to Gina who had been laughing at everyone else. She raised an eyebrow at him as he sauntered over. She held out her hand and he took it, spun around and leaned back in her arms.

And when I walk the streets

Kings and Queens steps aside

Every woman I meet, they all stay satisfied

I wanna tell ya pretty baby

Well, ya see I make my own

And I wanna tell ya honey

I’m bad to the bone

Gina let him go and he dropped to the floor. Fenny gasped but he hopped back up to finish his song.

Bad to the bone

Bbbb Bad

Bbbb Bad

Bbbb Bad

Bad to the bone

“Total showboat,” Fenny laughed as Paul lapped up the applause.

“Yes, and to think he used to get paid for that,” Gina mused.

“He didn’t seriously do that…in public?” Fenny said shocked.

“He did a lot bloody worse,” Gina nodded.

Fenny was still feeling bubbly when she arrived home. Paul and Gina had decided to spend some quality time together and give Fenny some time to herself. Fenny walked straight into the bathroom and turned on the shower. She stank of sweat, paint and turpentine, and as she slipped under the water, she decided she’d never wanted a shower so much in her life. After washing her hair and scrubbing as much paint from her skin as she could, Fenny dried off and pulled on her panties and a t-shirt.

She headed to the kitchen, still drying her hair, and searched for something for dinner. Nothing looked appealing, so she considered ordering a pizza when she heard the key in the lock. She turned to see Brad come through the door. He looked tired and dishevelled. He caught sight of her and stopped.

“I wasn’t expecting you to be home,” he announced.

“Sorry to disappoint you,” Fenny huffed.

“I didn’t mean it like that,” he grumbled.

“Of course you didn’t.”

“If you’re going to be like this, I’m going somewhere else.”

“Oh, something new then.”

“I didn’t come home to be insulted.”

“I didn’t ask you to come home.”

“Fenny,” Brad whined.

“I’m not going to apologize.”

“Fucking hell,” Brad hissed and ran his fingers through his hair. “What happened to the woman I fell in love with?”

“Oh, she’s still here. Just a bit emotionally fucked, thanks for asking,” Fenny barked.

“You think it’s been easy for me?” he snapped.

“Well, it might have been easier if you didn’t have the yoke around your neck that was telling your future wife that you had an illegitimate child,” Fenny snapped back.

“DO YOU WANT AN APOLOGY? DO YOU? FINE! I’M SORRY. I’M FUCKING SORRY THAT I SCREWED THINGS UP. BUT YOU KNOW WHAT? THAT’S WHAT I DO, OK. I SCREW THINGS UP, THAT’S WHY I WAS PUT ON EARTH. YOU HAPPY?” Brad yelled.

“Yeah, Brad, I’m fucking ecstatic,” Fenny barked.

They stood staring at each other for a moment. Brad was breathing heavily and Fenny was trying to stop her hands from shaking. Then, to Fenny’s surprise, Brad moved forward and pulled her into a lustful kiss. All her hate, anger, frustration and confusion suddenly poured out into passion. She roughly pulled off his shirt and groped for his belt. He pulled off her t-shirt and let his hands roam over her body. She was surprised how much she wanted him, right then and there, and as they sunk onto the couch, she heard him whisper that he loved her.

“Do you think Fen will be in bed?” Gina asked as she unlocked the door.

“If she isn’t in the bath with the toaster,” Paul replied.

“That’s horrible,” she scolded as they wandered into the living room arm in arm.

“Well, she’s not in bed but she’s asleep,” he whispered.

“Yes, and I’ll make the assumption that it was a group effort,” she smirked.

“Hey?” he breathed.

“Well your undies don’t just land on the TV on their own accord,” Gina chided as she lead Paul to their bedroom.

“Should we wake her?” he asked.

“Nah,” she replied as she quietly closed the door.

“Now what, babe?” he sighed and fell onto the bed.

“I’ll give you a hint,” Gina cooed and leaned over the bed to kiss him. She sunk into his arms and felt his hand slide beneath her top.

“I think I need a bigger hint,” Paul breathed between kisses. Gina started to undo his shirt when she felt a familiar feeling.

“Hon, unless your penis is suddenly battery operated, your phone is vibrating,” she sighed and fell off him onto the bed. Paul stuck his hand in his pocket and pulled out his cell phone.

“Hello…Yeah, when? Tuesday? I knew that, why did I ask? Yes, yes, yes…Can I bring friends? Ok, thanks mate,” Paul ended the call and sat up.

“Well?” Gina asked.

“I’ve gotta go on Rove and promote the musical with Marina. On Tuesday, so looks like I’m hopping on a plane in the morning,” he sighed.

“No,” she whined.

“Will you come for moral support?” he asked, chucking his phone on the floor in annoyance and lying back down.

“I’ve come for he,” she giggled.

“You dirty girl,” Paul cackled.

“Do you think it’s wise to leave Fen?” she mused.

“We can take her too,” he smiled.

“Seriously?”

“Yeah, it’ll be a hoot.”

“Ok, it’s back downunder we go then,” Gina perked and pulled Paul into another kiss.