Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Rio had only been back in her hotel room for five minutes when her phone rang. She had another interview first thing in the morning, so she debated not answering, but she could only think of one person who would dare call her this late.

She rummaged through her bag for her cell phone—the caller ID proclaiming, ‘SCARLET WITCH’ confirmed her suspicions.

She’d met Wanda on the set of Ingrid Goes West eight years earlier. It was only Wanda’s second film and Rio’s first time back on set since graduating from NYU. They didn’t hit it off immediately, both preferring to keep to themselves. At least, until Rio found out Wanda was planning on spending her twenty-first birthday alone in her hotel room watching Dick Van Dyke after her twin brother's flight was canceled.

She’d shoved Wanda into a sparkly dress, dusted her eyelids with glitter, and dragged her out onto the streets of LA to get hammered like a proper American.

They’d been best friends ever since.

She pressed the accept button and tossed the phone onto the bed.

“I can’t believe you said you didn’t like the book. Maria’s gonna kick your ass.”

Rio kicked off her shoes, “Maria’s not gonna kick my ass.”

She never said she didn’t like it, just that she didn’t love it. She was pretty sure that as a consequence of being her best friend, Wanda could write a more convincing Cuban character than Taylor Jenkins-Reed did in The Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo. Not to mention her stance on bisexuality. If someone described her sexuality as half-gay or half-straight, Rio would probably punch them in the face.

Although, she supposed, to do anything other than rave about the book whose adaptation she was set to star in was bound to draw some negative attention. It was a huge hit, with over two million copies sold. Still, Rio stood by her critiques.

They were why she was initially skeptical about taking the role of Evelyn Hugo, but the script for the first episode was incredible. Wanda had also been offered the role of her love interest, Celia St. James, and they’d wanted to work together again since the day they wrapped Ingrid. Not to mention that Agatha Harkness was directing, and Rio had dreamed about working with her since she saw the Sapphic masterpiece that was Carol ten years earlier.

“Yeah, well, don’t come crying to me when she drops you as a client, because all I’m gonna do is say ‘I told you so.”

Their agent was not going to fire her. Even if she wanted to, she couldn’t. There were perks to having a younger sister who specialized in contract law.

Rio just rolled her eyes, “What time is it over there, anyway?”

Wanda was currently in London shooting for British Vogue, but she’d be back in LA just in time for them to have a few days of rest before the filming for Evelyn Hugo, began.

“Almost six. My call time is in an hour.”

“Nervous?” she asked, slipping off the blue silk Prada dress she’d been lent for her appearance on The Late Show.

She’d never worn dresses much for her work. Her last role as April Ludgate on Parks and Recreation meant everything she’d worn was off the rack and business casual at best, but since she’d had her hair bleached blonde, her stylist, (she couldn’t believe she had a stylist now), had been leaning into the Old Hollywood glamour look with an ever-increasing frequency.

“Nervous is an understatement. I feel like I’m gonna puke.”

“You’re gonna do great,” Rio assured her, her response slightly muffled as she pulled on an oversized t-shirt and crawled into bed. “Just like you always have on all your shoots.”

“The photographer, Vince, once shot Natasha Romanoff for Victoria’s Secret, and she liked him so much she hired him to do her wedding! They call him, ‘The Vision.”

“That’s so pretentious. It makes him sound like a douchebag.”

“Oh my god! I didn’t even think about that! What if he’s a total douchebag?”

Rio sighed, “Listen to me. You’re going to do amazing because you are amazing.”

“And if he’s a total douchebag?”

“Then I’ll fly to London and tell him to his face that he’s a total douchebag.”

“Thanks.”

“Anytime,” she glanced at the time on her phone screen. One-twenty seven. She has to be up in five hours. “I’d better go, I’ve got Good Morning America at seven.”

“Okay. You have your key right? If not, Pietro can let you in. He’s in town for a commercial.”

Pietro wasn’t an actor. He was an Olympic track star with a Nike endorsement. Wanda said once that he found her strange. Rio, who had a habit of picking up live house spiders and liked plants more than she did most people, couldn’t imagine why.

“I’ve got it, don’t worry about me.” She’d be staying with Wanda for the duration of filming. “I’ll see you Monday.”

“See you Monday. Love you.”

“Love you, too. Bye.”

“Bye.”

Wanda hung up, and Rio picked up her phone to set her alarm for later but stopped when she noticed she’d missed a text message from 'Agent Hill'. It was a link to an article from Page Six. Rio Vidal, star of the Upcoming Netflix series adaptation of, The Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo reportedly “Didn’t Love,” the best-selling book.

There was a saying that all publicity was good publicity. It wasn’t true, and Rio knew it. Maybe better than anyone else in Hollywood.

She might not be getting fired, but she was definitely getting her ass kicked.

Chapter Text

Agatha swore she could hear her psycho bitch of a mother laughing up at her from Hell.

When she was in school, all of the other kids thought Evanora Harkness was a witch. Agatha did her best to ignore them. Her mother may have been a jaded Irish Catholic with a bad dye job who preferred speaking Gaeilge to English, but a witch? Ridiculous.

Now, she wasn’t so sure.

“I have endometriosis? Are you sure?”

“Yes, dear. I am,” Dr. Davis said, “Unfortunately, that means you won't be able to proceed with IVF. The hormones involved in the ovarian stimulation process could potentially exacerbate your condition.”

This was Evanora’s final revenge. She always blamed her for ruining her life, like she was the one who got pregnant out of wedlock. Her parents had wanted to send her to the laundries, but she was twenty and had enough money for a plane ticket to the States, but by the time she got here it was too late for an abortion.

Evanora’s life had been ruined by a baby, and Agatha’s life would be ruined by a lack of one. When she joined Evanora in Hell, the first thing she was going to do was kick her ass.

“What…What can I do?” At forty she knew she wouldn’t have the opportunity to freeze her eggs for much longer. As much as she hated the phrase, it was apt. Her biological clock was ticking.

“Well, I believe the best option, in your case, is a laparoscopy-”

“Surgery?” She exclaimed. “I can’t have surgery!”

She was filming a TV show for the next four months, and not just any TV show. It was her chance at another Emmy nomination.

“I understand your reservations, but if left untreated your condition will continue to worsen. I can put you on medication that would stop the growth of your endometriosis, but it would only be a temporary solution.”

“I'd like that.”

Dr. Davis scribbled something on a piece of paper and handed it to her. “This is a prescription for something called progesterone, it’ll minimize your symptoms. Your menstrual periods may stop, but so will the continued growth of the endometriosis. It is only temporary. It will not affect your ability to get pregnant, but you may experience some side effects. Weight gain, nausea, mood swings, cramps. Do you understand?”

Agatha nodded. General unpleasantness to ensue. Got it

“If you change your mind, call me anytime, and we'll talk about scheduling.”

She shoved the prescription into her purse and headed for the door.

“I'm sorry, Ms. Harkness.”

Agatha slammed the door shut and stormed out of the building. She didn't need pity. She didn't need it when her mother disowned her, and she certainly didn't need it now, from her gynecologist of all people.

Not when Dr. Sharon Davis-Hart had everything Agatha would probably never get. A house in the suburbs. A husband who called her ‘honey’ and grown children who still visited on the holidays. She probably even had a dog.

Agatha didn't even like dogs. Or men.

She drove home in silence.

Maybe this was a sign that she'd be a terrible mother. She didn't have much of a role model. She also didn't have any family besides herself to give the kid, though she was sure Lilia would happily take on the role of grandmother.

She threw her keys onto the coffee table and dumped her bag onto the floor.

Her house was certainly big enough for a kid, but she traveled too much for work and she was somehow even less emotionally available than her last ex-girlfriend. This had to be a sign, not some curse from her mother. It was the universe's attempt to spare her future, hypothetical spawn, from the nightmare that would be Agatha Harkness’s parenting.

She fished the prescription from her purse and called the pharmacy anyway. Even if she couldn't have a baby, the last thing she needed was for her symptoms to become debilitating. She'd been lucky so far, with only mild nausea and cramps, but she didn't know how long it would last.

She also placed an order for takeout at her favorite Indian restaurant. It was only four but she was too tired to cook, not that she ever really did. She’d never learned how. She could boil pasta and make a mean Caesar salad, but all she wanted right now was a warm, comforting bowl of curry.

Her phone buzzed. It was a message from Jenn.

Jenn: Did you see this?!

Agatha started typing, See what? But another message popped up on the screen before she could hit send. It was a link.

Jenn: Alice did such a good job with her hair. I can’t tell if I want to be her or if I want her phone number

Intrigued, Agatha clicked the link and was redirected to a YouTube video. It was a clip of The Late Show with Stephen Colbert, entitled Why Evelyn Hugo is Rio Vidal’s dream role… despite not loving the best-selling book.

She pressed play, and her phone speaker immediately started blaring the thunderous sounds of a live studio audience. She had to turn the volume down.

Sitting next to Colbert in a blue silk dress, feet crossed neatly at the ankles, was a very tan, very blonde Rio Vidal. She was something of an Indie darling, starring in movies and shows Agatha had never even heard of, let alone seen.

She’d been offered the part at Marc Spector’s insistence and Lilia’s approval. Agatha had only ever seen her in pictures.

“I’m dying to know, and I’m sure everyone else is too, if you didn’t love the book, what made you decide to take on the role of Evelyn Hugo?”

She tucked a loose strand of blonde hair behind, revealing what looked like a small tattoo of an arrow on her pinky finger. “Well, I’ve always wanted to work with Agatha Harkness.”

"Award winning director, Agatha Harkness?”

“Is there another Agatha Harkness I should be aware of, Stephen?” she asked, her voice completely monotone.

The audience laughed.

“No, I don’t think that there is.”

“I’ve been a huge fan of hers ever since she directed Carol ten years ago, so when Wanda told me she was directing, I knew I had to give it a shot, so I read the script and I just fell in love with it. The writers, Marc Spector and Val Thompson knocked it out of the park.”

“So you’ve got your favorite director, Incredible writers, and your best friend by your side. This has got to be every actor’s dream!” Stephen exclaimed.

“Absolutely,” Rio agreed, “I can’t wait to get started.”

The screen faded to black, and Agatha was stunned.

People said nice things about her all the time; she was damn good at what she did, but it had mostly been out of obligation. She made them look good, and pissing her off meant they’d never get cast in another Lilia Calderu production ever again.

Rio Vidal, however, had said she dreamed about working with her on live TV.

She got another text, this time from Alice.

Alice: Same

Jenn: Don’t you actually have her number?

Alice: Yeah, but I’m still not sure if she’s dating Wanda Maximoff

Jenn: They’ve never confirmed it

Alice: They’ve never denied it

Agatha was surprised.

Agatha: She’s gay?

Alice: Bi, actually. Don’t know about Maximoff. She’s never said

Jenn: You didn’t know?

Agatha rolled her eyes. How the hell would she know a thing like that?

Jenn: Doesn’t matter. Alice should give you her number

Agatha: Why?

Jenn: Because she likes you, duh. You should ask her out for drinks

Agatha: She likes my work. There’s a difference

They’d also never met, and Agatha was sure she’d regret saying she wanted to work with her when she found out what a bitch she was.

Actors and directors dated all the time, and it wasn’t a cause for concern as long as they filled out the relevant HR forms and signed the occasional NDA, but Agatha always thought it was a recipe for disaster, and she told Jen as much.

Agatha: She’s also what, 25? 26?

Alice: 29

The doorbell rang, and Agatha tossed her phone onto the table beside her keys. It kept buzzing, but she ignored it. They couldn’t keep talking about Rio Vidal forever.