The grey skies of New York City were littered with crying clouds when Peggy's manager got a call from Jonathan Snipes.
"Hello?"
"Yes, this is Jonathan Snipes? Manager of Lancelot? And you are Andrea...?"
"Andrea Shepton."
"Alright. Our lead singer, Marquis de Lafayette, wants to collaborate with Margarita. Could you check with her to see if she'd like to?"
Naturally, Peggy was beyond excited. Ecstatic? Thrilled? No words could describe the electric feeling floating through her body. She felt oddly restless and dazed. Why was she so excited?
Oh wait, she was collaborating with the Marquis de Lafayette, one of the most famous rappers in the world.
Wait, no she wasn't. Not until she replied to her manager.
---
Lafayette was bouncing his knee as he anxiously stared at his bright, glaring phone screen, choosing to ignore the comfiness of his large, velvety white couch while he awaited a response from Jonathan. He didn't know what to expect; he didn't know Margarita well enough to guess her answer to his offer. The worry eventually got to him, and he managed to convince himself that she would turn down the offer. He was too rugged, and she was too smooth. The Marquis reasoned that she would think his voice was too rough and they just wouldn't match up.
A reply came from Jonathan.
She had said yes.
Lafayette jumped out of his seat and enthusiastically made a celebratory fist pump in the air.
---
A couple of days later, Peggy arrived at Lafayette's temporary apartment in the Upper East Side of New York City with her manager, notebook and pencil case in hand and a whole lot of anxiety flooding her brain. She had always preferred writing songs with pen and paper; the sound of the nib scribbling against a flimsy page was, funnily enough, music to her ears, and the constant movement distracted her from worrying about stupid things.
She was surprised by the lack of security surrounding the large, lavish apartment. Considering that Lafayette - no, the Marquis, was one of the most well-known people in the world (a mega-celebrity, if you will), security would probably be of the highest priority in his living area. But it seemed not to be. Interesting.
Oooh, look; there were houseplants outside the door. Tall and leafy, and somehow... cute? Oh, Peggy was such a sucker for plants; they were just like children, yet not as rambunctious. Peaceful. Quiet. Just how she liked it.
Hey, that painting on the wall looks really ni-
Goddamn it, she was hesitating. But it wasn't like there was no reason to hesitate. Lafayette was one of the most famous, talented, and popular people in the world, so I'll pose a question on you: why wouldn't she hesitate? Had it been a person of equal or lower status than her, she would have already been in the penthouse. But the Marquis definitely wasn't on the same level as her.
With trembling hands, Peggy finally knocked on the door.
---
Lafayette had been watching Peggy from a security camera by his door for the entire third of an hour she had been standing there.
Yeah, she really had a talent in hesitation. Possibly better than her singing and dancing skills, and that was really saying something.
Still, the Marquis was excited. He was excited to meet Margarita, the small girl with the big voice. Sonya Rostova. The swing. The understudy. The under appreciated background character. The stranger who he was so in love with was right at his doorstep. So let me pose you with another question: why wouldn't he be excited?
He watched impatiently as Peggy continued to raise and lower her hand, changing her mind as she made it up.
"Merde, femme!" he groaned, leaning back in his chair. "Allez!"
And she did hurry up, knocking on the door almost minutes after Laf annoyedly hissed to himself.
Bless the heavens.
Lafayette got up and opened the door.
He gazed upon her perfect, tiny form.
She was the heavens.
---
Peggy smiled like an angel.
"Well, hello."
