Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters mentioned in this story.

They all belong to their rightful owner: Craig Bartlett.

Title: "Roadside girl"

Summary: Acting had in many ways also been one of Helga's many skills. Arnold hadn't expected her to give a shot at a career in it though thereby leaving to study abroad just when he had started to grow feelings for her. That smidge of love has turned into bitter resentment, so when the play Helga is cast as the heroine in is falling apart, can Arnold ignore the past pain and save it?

Author's 1st note: Yes! I am starting a new long project! It's been long overdue, but I wanted to make sure I didn't make another whoopsie by starting a story with much too little material for me to be able to finish it like I did with "Primal urges and hidden desires" Again: sorry to all of you had been looking forward to that story :(

Anyhow, what you will need to know for this story: The M rating is due to foul language, sexual situations and darkness along with angst both in the play and a little in the real world too. (Well, Arnold and Helga's "real" world).

If you have read my other stories then you know that I have never focused on the slight hate there is between Arnold and Helga. In my other stories they've always been friends or civil with each other. That's not the case with this one. I am going to focus a lot more on the hate between them than just the love. I'm also trying to put more humor into it too though.

I will through this story make many song references that are supposed to be songs written for the actual play, but they exist in reality. I will always write where the song is from at the second author's note at the end of the chapter. I recommend trying to listen to the song in the background to make imagining the scene easier.

Also, if I describe an outfit very thoroughly, it means I am using a picture for reference. I may or may not add or remove some things on the outfit though. This means that if you want to, I can send you a link with the picture of the outfit I am describing. Simply go to my profile here, find my link to my deviantArt profile for example and send me a note asking for it :) The reason you have to do that is because FanFiction doesn't allow links :P

Each chapter will be at least 5.000 words long, but sometimes there'll be more like in this one, but the quota is 5.000 words each chapter ;)

I believe that is it for now, excuse the rant. Enjoy! :D

[Please notify me if you notice any grammar mistakes. This isn't my first language, so there's bound to be mistakes.]

Chapter 1: "Roadside girl"

"Hey, baby!" his best friend said energetically once he had answered the phone that barely rang two times before he grabbed it from his pocket. His best friend, Arnold, shook his head in amusement across from where he was sitting, earning a poke from the other boy's hand. "Naw, Arnold just still finds it very funny that I like hearing your voice." He said in the phone. Arnold suspected that his best friend's girlfriend, Phoebe Heyerdahl, had heard his former groan in pain from the rather rough stab to his chest and that she had asked what it was. Arnold simply snickered as he let Gerald keep talking. He envied him, if he had to be honest. Gerald Johanssen and Phoebe Heyerdahl had been an on and off couple for several years before they finally realized that they would always end up back together again anyway and had then done what had seemed like the most logical thing at the time: moved in together. Gerald had half the mind back then to just pop her the big question right away, but they had after all only left the teenage years about a year ago so he had settled with living in the same house as her.

On Arnold's side, he couldn't be happier for his best friend. Phoebe was Gerald's complete opposite in more ways than one so the on and off relationship hadn't been much of a surprise. Phoebe was a very book smart girl while Gerald was more street smart. Phoebe was a half-American half-Japanese girl whose grades had always been in the top of whichever class she was in. Gerald was a half-American half-African boy that cared more about his appearance than any classes, with the exception of sport. They had managed to fall in love anyhow and it finally seemed to be paying off for the both of them. After several years of fighting, breaking up and getting back together, a couple of months ago they seemed to have found some middle ground. Gerald had mentioned that something in the way Phoebe looked at him had suddenly changed for the better, but she had refused to tell him what had made her see things in a different light. He was just thankful to whatever or whoever had made her give him yet another chance.

"Wait. What?" Gerald suddenly asked in a confused voice, which caught Arnold's attention. As he looked at his best friend through his whole life, he lifted the glass of soda to his mouth. "Helga Pataki is in Hillwood?" Gerald asked in shock, but it was nothing compared to the shock Arnold felt. His eyes practically popped out of his eye sockets and he choked on the soda that had been running down his throat. He put the glass back down, coughing some of the soda back in the glass and onto the floor. Gerald quickly tossed him the package of tissues, but he seemed to be rather affected by the information his girlfriend had just given him so he didn't do much else.

"What is Pataki doing back in Hillwood?" Gerald asked while Arnold desperately tried to still his coughing and had to wave reassuringly at a few concerned customers. Once he could breathe again, he did his best to gawk Gerald's reaction to whatever Phoebe was telling him about her best friend Helga Pataki. Helga was a girl Arnold and Gerald had known for as long as they had known each other and Phoebe for that matter. They had grown up together, but Arnold and Helga had always been more than less friendly with each other. If one had asked Arnold what Helga was to him, he would have told them that she was that one person he was as close to hating without actually hating her. His feelings for her also kept changing depending on their age. From hating her to accepting her to hating her again to feel inferior, superior and for a short amount of time, even loving her.

Arnold had indeed had feelings for Helga for a short while back when they were about thirteen years old. He had barely come to terms with those very unwelcome feelings when Helga had declared that she was going to study abroad. The declaration had been on the very same day that she was leaving and Arnold had been so shocked that he hadn't had it in him to say goodbye at the airport with the rest of the class. He felt so betrayed in a way he hadn't before and even though he knew it was impossible, a part of him feared that she had figured out he had feelings for her and then had run away. He kept going back and forth between thinking she had ran away, because that was just Helga's thing: running away when people got too close, but he also sometimes thought she had gone away just to be mean. Whenever they seemed to get closer in the past too, Helga would eventually show her claws again and then they were back to the beginning. Her leaving to study abroad had felt like her way of saying: "Ha-ha! Got you again!"

"Huh…" Gerald muttered thoughtfully. He stood up from his seat, went around the table and then plumbed down next to Arnold. He looked at him in slight worry because of the scowl that was now decorating his features. Arnold had never come around to tell Gerald that he'd may have had feelings for his childhood bully for a short amount of time. Ever since Helga had left, the resentment for her had come back and now when her name was mentioned again seven years later, he could feel the old hatred boiling up again. "Yeah, I guess I can pick you up at Hillwood Theatre." Gerald said as he patted Arnold's shoulder apologetically. Arnold groaned at the thought of being ditched, but he nodded in understanding, but his face went slack with shock when Gerald asked Phoebe if he could bring Arnold along.

"Are you insane?!" Arnold asked in a low hiss, but Gerald waved him off. "Ok, we'll make sure to be quiet once we get in. See you then, babe." Gerald said, hung up and put his hands up in defense. "I'm sorry, man, but Pataki is gonna be there and I need a buffer from those fists of hers!" he explained, but Arnold couldn't help but think that Gerald should be fearing his fists as well right then. "I don't want to see Helga! I finally got rid of her when I was thirteen and now she's back?!" he asked in disbelief and Gerald connected his palms in a way of pleading with Arnold; it was something he had learned from Phoebe. "I'm begging you! I can't possibly face Ol' Betsy and The Five Avengers on my own!"

"Who says she'll punch you? I'm sure that seven years of studying acting has made her capable of pretending not to hate you." Arnold insisted. "Exactly! She might just do the same for you." Gerald pointed out and nudged his elbow against Arnold's arm. "Well, I can't do the same." Arnold said and looked out of the window. "Dude, I know she made your childhood a living hell. She did that to the rest of us too." Gerald said, but realized by the way Arnold snorted that his words weren't getting through. "She was your favorite victim, I know, but it's been seven years, man and… you are still stuck in the past."

Arnold frowned at that. He knew Gerald was right; those small positive feelings he'd had for Helga when he was thirteen had completely turned into complete loathing ever since. He knew it probably wasn't fair; she had probably left to study acting simply because she wanted to and not because she'd had some hidden agenda to hurt him one last time. It had still felt like such a blow to his stomach, especially since Helga had once told him that she had feelings for him too. They had only been nine and they had agreed to never speak of it again, but Arnold remembered it so clearly even now when he was 20 years old. A girl had never declared her love for him the same way Helga Pataki had that ungodly early morning on that roof. She had never been so vulnerable in front of him or anyone else before and even now he felt some sort of pride at having been that one person to have seen her like that; raw and full of love. For him.

Arnold didn't have a clue what Helga felt for him now or if she even remembered him. What could have felt like earth-shattering love to a child could in reality just have been a small crush. A crush that had lasted since the first time she had laid eyes on his stupid Football Head as she had called it, but it could still have just been childish adoration for something he wasn't sure he was anymore. As a child, Arnold was very helpful and generous and while he still was that as a young adult then he had matured through the years and the dark aspects of his life had finally gotten to him.

Arnold had never met his parents, they had been declared dead when their corpses had been found in San Lorenzo when he was about twelve years old. Once that his parents' death had become a reality, he had sunk down into such a pit of darkness that not even Gerald had been able to get him out of his bed. It had actually been Helga that had yanked him out of the bed, thrown a bucket of cold water over him and even dressed him only to force him out in the baking sun. At that moment, he had hated her with every fiber of his being, but he was pretty sure that was also when he had started loving her.

"Arnold?" Gerald asked and nudged his hand against Arnold's arm. "Huh?" he muttered and turned to look at him. "Sorry, man, but you seemed so lost in thought. Thinking about old times?" Gerald asked with a small smile and Arnold readjusted himself on the seat. "I am, in fact. I was just thinking about back when my parents were found…" He admitted with a sad smile on his face. "Oh, you were remembering how Helga got you out of your room?" Gerald asked and snickered, which Arnold did as well. "Yeah, she, uh… she was stubborn."

"I'll say. I never thought she would actually bathe you." Gerald said and Arnold blushed slightly at the memory. "She didn't bathe me. She threw a bucket of water on me and… then used a wet wash cloth on me." He corrected. "While you were naked." Gerald pointed out. "I was wearing underwear, you pervert." Arnold corrected once more and chuckled lowly. "See? Helga got you out of the worst rut you've ever been in. That must have meant something to you, right? She wasn't all bad." Gerald said with hope in his voice, but Arnold's smile faded away at that. "When did you become Mr. Brightside?" he asked with a bit of melancholy in his voice. "Since you stopped." Gerald said and swatted gently at Arnold's shoulder. "Someone has to look on the bright side. When did you stop being that someone?"

"When I was thirteen, I guess…" Arnold confessed. "Yeah, the teenage years seemed to change you a lot, man." Gerald said with a look in his eyes that told Arnold that he was seeing several memories passing on in his brain. When he seemed to come back to his senses, he grinned at Arnold before nudging his head roughly. "But you're still Arnold!" he insisted before getting up from the seat. Arnold smiled at Gerald's gesture before he finally caved in and stood up. He quickly left some tip for the waiter before following Gerald out of the way café. "You think so?"

"Do I think what?" Gerald asked in confusion before shoving his hands into his pockets despite the warm weather. "That I'm still… Arnold?" Arnold asked and readjusted his hood. Gerald looked at him in slight surprise and was about to answer without hesitation, but when he saw the gravity on his friend's face, he decided to give it some thought before he answered. "Well… you've grown. You've matured. You're not a child anymore so of course you can't be the exact same Arnold like when we were kids." He admitted before starting to walk. Arnold was quiet for a moment as he pondered Gerald's words. "I guess you're right. It's just… I guess I thought I would always be the same on some level." He muttered with a bit of a frown. "Oh, you've still got your Arnold traits." Gerald said with a smile and Arnold looked curiously at him. "Like what?"

"The way your face scrunches when you're thinking hard about something." Gerald said a little jokingly and Arnold rolled his eyes. "The way you laugh good-heartedly even when you're extremely annoyed." Gerald continued and Arnold laughed for good measure. "And… the fact that you want to be a therapist." He finally continued and that caught Arnold's attention. Gerald was looking at him with a serious smile on his face compared to the former grin. "You'll always be the good Samaritan, Arnold. You planning to be a therapist proves that… and that's the thing you're most known for; helping people. So, yeah, you've changed through the years, but you still have your roots."

Arnold slowly smiled and that eventually turned into a broad grin. "Thanks, Gerald." He said appreciatively. "You're welcome." He answered and rocked a little from side to side as he walked. "You're the same though." Arnold said with a bit of a teasing gleam in his eyes. "I am?" Gerald asked while quirking an eyebrow at Arnold's statement. "Yeah… I still wonder when that hair of yours will make you fall face first on the street." Arnold said and managed to do so without snickering until he was done talking. "Why, you little!" Gerald said and started to wrestle with Arnold even though he knew it had been a bad idea. Arnold's many years of karate lessons was too much of an advantage and he quickly got the upper hand. "I fold, I fold!" Gerald insisted with a laugh and Arnold let go of him. "Man…" Gerald muttered. "All that talk about Helga Pataki has made you vicious."

"So they're practicing right now?" Arnold asked in a low voice once he and Gerald had approached Hillwood Theatre. There was another building nearby, which they had been in once before called Civic Opera, but that place were for operas only. Arnold didn't know what kind of play Helga was supposedly participating in, but at least now he knew it wasn't opera. That had also made him fall backwards with laughter if it had been. The mere image of Helga in some big white fluffy wig made him cringe and chuckle all at the same time. "Yeah. Phoebe said that she just had to see Helga now that she was in Hillwood. I guess I don't blame her." Gerald answered in a low voice while they tried to figure out where to go.

"What kind of play is this?" Arnold asked when he heard some music in the distance. "Beats me. Phoebe said that Helga is the protagonist though and that the director asked her to play the heroine. Helga didn't even have to audition for it." Gerald answered and the answer surprised Arnold. "Has Helga become that famous? Good? Popular?" he asked, unsure of which word was the most appropriate, and Gerald turned to look at him. "I think so. Phoebe keeps telling me about the things that Helga tells her about the plays she's in. She's done a lot of famous ones. Even ones I know." He explained and leaned an eye against the door. "The music is dying, but I think it's in here."

Arnold listened for a moment and the somehow heavy metal like sound disappeared. "Do we just go in?" he asked. "Phoebe said she'd be inside at one of the front row seats so I guess so." Gerald answered with a shrug before opening the door as softly as possible. The two boys peered inside and saw the big scene at the far end of the room along with many, many rows of seats in front of them. Above them were balconies with seats as well they presumed. Overall, there was a rather majestic look in the red and golden colors inside the theatre.

"There she is." Gerald whispered and crouched as he walked inside. Arnold closed the door behind him and followed Gerald through the seats. He looked at the stage as he approached it. A man with a headset on his head, which was naturally attached to the microphone in front of his lips, barked orders at the people on the stage. A young man, around Arnold's age he believed, but perhaps a little older, was listening very intently to the director while some girls in the background were doing the same, but it was obviously the boy who was listening the most. The director was saying something about how the guy on the stage needed to put more anger in his voice when he sang some specific lines and the actor nodded in understanding.

"Hey, babe." Arnold heard Gerald say all of a sudden. When he turned his head, he realized that he and Gerald had already sat down at one of the front row seats. "Hi, Gerald." Phoebe whispered before kissing his cheek and patting Arnold on his shoulder. "Good afternoon, Arnold." she whispered to him and he nodded at her with a smile. "Good seeing you, Phoebe… I don't see Helga though?" Arnold questioned and looked around. "One of the costume designers is borrowing her for a bit. The first one of one of her outfits is done already. The costume designer had an epiphany." Phoebe said with an excited smile and turned to look at the stage again. Already? Arnold thought curiously, but looked up at the stage anyhow.

"Helga." The director said suddenly in a loud voice, looking way past the stage it seemed. A small static noise echoed in the room before Arnold heard Helga's voice for the first time in seven years over the speakers. "Yes?" she asked. "She must have turned on her own mic or something…" Gerald observed absentmindedly and looked around as if he expected Helga to appear out of nowhere. "Does the costume fit?" the director asked. "Does it fit, you ask… There's not much fabric here for anything having to fit." She said with a bit of a chuckle. "But, yeah, I think I'm capable in this."

"What kind of play is this?" Arnold asked with a frown and leaned forward to look at Phoebe when she did the same thing. "It's called Roadside Girl." She said, but he just kept looking at her in confusion. "To make it short, it's about a girl, in this case Helga, who is selling her body on her boyfriend's request. He kidnapped her when she was just a small child and has convinced her that a woman's worth is calculated by how many men is willing to pay to have her. There's a man though, who - - " she whispered, but then the sound of Helga's voice on the speakers interrupted her. "Should we do the I'm your favorite drug scene since I'm in the costume? I'm not sure if I can do some of the stunts in these boots." She admitted. "Good idea, Helga." The director said. "Come on in."

Phoebe looked at Arnold for a moment, but leaned back when she noticed that he seemed to have forgotten their former conversation. He had leaned back and was looking at the stage with big eyes when Helga appeared. She looked like herself and yet not at all. She still had blonde hair, but the ends of those golden locks were dip dyed dark pink. The hair was also longer now. Even with it in a ponytail, it went all the way to the middle part of her back. If it was loose, it'd probably go to her waist, curled or not, which it was right then. She was wearing an outfit that made the blood in Arnold's body go south. On her feet, as she had mentioned earlier, were a pair of black boots that went a little above her ankles, until you could see the pink fishnet stockings. They went all the way up to her thighs before turning into black garters. Around her hips was a very short skirt that only hid the most necessary thereby showing off her cream-colored stomach and the naval piercing she had. On her chest was a pink corset that also only hid her breasts and nothing else. The corset was decorated with black strings on the middle and black lace at the valley of her breasts. She was wearing a black leather bolero jacket, which fell to her lower back and the sleeves stopped halfway on her arm. On her hands were a pair of dark purple gloves, which were fingerless and showed off some black nail polish.

"Oh, my God…" Gerald muttered in absolute disbelief while Arnold was incapable of even thinking anything. Phoebe pushed a little at Gerald though, earning an apologetic smile from him. "Hey, I haven't seen Pataki since we were children. Cut me some slack." He said before kissing her temple and she smiled at him. She looked back up at the stage in time for Helga to walk around herself and look at the director. "What do you think?" she asked just before the guy from before whistled. "I'd say it looks perfect." He said with almost pride in his voice. Helga put one of her feet far behind her and bowed deeply in a dramatic way. "Thank you, David, but I don't believe that the words of the man who plays my pimp is very reliable." She said, earning a laugh from the rest of the cast. David lifted his hands up in mock surrender and stepped back.

"It does look perfect, Helga. You said you were nervous about the boots?" the director asked with a smile. "Yeah." Helga said and twisted her ankle so that when she bend it, she could look at the boot. "I just think that some of the stunts with the pole may prove to be a little difficult for me in shoes with such thin heels." She admitted before putting her foot back on the floor. "We'll just have to see for ourselves. Ok, Helga, on your position." He said and looked up towards the place where the sound technician was sitting. "I'm your favorite drug!" he said in the mic. "Oh, are you now?" the guy named David couldn't help but joke and Arnold noticed that Helga laughed at his words before placing herself at the edge of the stage, readjusting the mic which was plastered on her face.

The heavy sound of drums began, but just as soon as it begun, it was stopped when Helga saw Arnold on one of the seats and screamed his name in utter shock. "Ow!" everyone in the room groaned, including the girl herself, but her face was still painted with mortification. "Helga, what was that?" the director asked and looked in the same direction as her. "If these people are distracting you, we need to ask them to leave." He told her and waited for her response, but it didn't come as promptly as he had expected. Helga was gawking at Arnold and he was doing the same before he lifted his hand to wave at her awkwardly. "H-Hi there, Helga…"

Helga seemed too shocked to react at first, but then she turned to frown at Phoebe. "Phoebe?" she questioned and the girl waved her hands apologetically. "I'm sorry, Helga. I asked Gerald to come and pick me up and he asked if Arnold could come along." She explained and Helga sighed heavily. "Helga, do you want us to leave?" Arnold asked gently, but he secretly hoped she would let them stay. This was the first time he was seeing her in seven years and he had just realized that he actually missed her. She turned her eyes to look at him, a look of displeasure and uncertainty in them, but then she shook her head. "No. Stay." She said and repositioned herself. "Criminy…" she muttered and Arnold couldn't help but smile at hearing her say that word again. She took a deep breath and looked up at the sound room. "Start the music!"

The sound of the harsh drums echoed in the room again and when Helga opened her eyes, it was as if the usual bright blue color had turned darker. Arnold's eyes went wide when her whole body seemed to jerk in beat to the music before she started singing. "What you get is what you see. It won't take much to get hooked on me. So shoot me right into your skin… and I will be your heroine." She sang in a raspy voice that matched perfectly with the hardcore music that was booming in the whole room. When she continued, her voice grew louder, almost as if she was yelling, but it still had a sort of raw beauty to it. "The side effects are sexual. I'm dying for a taste. The side effects are sexual and you love the way I say."

Helga went quiet for long enough for two loud beats of the drums to echo in the room and then the sound of an electric guitar picked up the beat. "I'm your favorite drug… Your favorite drug. Just one hit is never enough. I'm your favorite drug… Your favorite drug. You can't break this addiction up." She sang in a harsh voice, her face sometimes scrunching in pain as if it hurt to sing though Arnold expected it to be a part of the acting. He was completely mesmerized. This song, this whole scene was completely out of the world; he had never seen anything like it. Helga's coarse, but beautiful voice, the way her body jerked to the music from time to time, making her look like a broken doll, her hair cascading and flipping around when she would bop her head. The whole image in front of him had him sitting on the edge of the seat and he wasn't quite sure in which way.

"Is this really Helga Pataki?" Gerald whispered in Arnold's ear, but barely got the blonde boy's attention. "She's hot." He added in disbelief and Arnold couldn't do anything else than nod slightly, his eyes still glued to Helga. Gerald nudged his elbow at Arnold and the boy finally looked at him. Gerald wiggled his eyebrows teasingly. "What are you feeling? Something along Stockholm syndrome?" he asked, earning a push to his shoulder. Arnold was blushing slightly, but Gerald was wrong. True, Helga was definitely attractive on a completely different level now, but Arnold was still holding a grudge against her. Right now though… he couldn't really remember why.

Helga was starting to clutch her hair in her fingers, holding onto the locks desperately as she kept singing. "Helga, try it with the pole this time." The director said over the mic, cutting through her voice. Without even a hint of hesitation, Helga slowly went to the right, getting closer to Arnold and the others. Pole?! He thought in disbelief and once her hand was around it, he saw that there was indeed a pole on the stage. Several even, but they mostly looked like thin posts for the purpose of decoration. The scene was obviously not done yet, Arnold couldn't see where Helga's character was supposed to be in the play, but that was to be expected. Helga hadn't been in Hillwood for that long yet.

The song slowed down significantly and it turned into just a dull sound of the drum with a bit of a riff from the guitar. Helga's motions also slowed down as if the pole she had just grabbed had slowed the whole world down. "I'm your pleasure… and your pain. I'll numb your fear just like cocaine and… I'm your treasure… Say my name." She sang as her hands went above her head, holding onto the pole and her hips slowly swayed. Her knees bend and she got closer to the floor. Arnold could see the somehow hollow look in her eyes; she was desperately trying to forget that the people who had known her since childhood was here watching her dance this way.

As intoxicating as Helga's motions were, Arnold couldn't help but look up towards the ceiling. The pole looked somehow rickety; it probably hadn't been placed properly just yet. If Helga keeps doing what she's doing, nothing will go wrong I think, but if she puts more weight into it then… Arnold thought nervously. He wasn't even aware of how much at the end of the seat he was sitting, subconsciously ready to leap up if he believed the post would give in.

As if Arnold had seen it coming, when Helga sang the next words, she turned around, her hands still on the post and she was about to lean back when the small crack ricocheted in Arnold's ears. "Watch out!" he yelled even before the post gave away and leapt up from his seat. Helga's shriek pierced his ears, but he held out his arms when he saw her coming flying towards him. He grabbed onto whatever he could of her and just kept his eyes closed in panic. "Helga!" he could hear some people exclaim in shock, but he couldn't really hear them. The only thing he was sure of was that Helga's back was against his chest, but her hands were clutching his arms tightly, shaking with the fear still running through her.

Arnold finally opened his eyes and saw that Helga was indeed safe in his arms. Her whole body was shaking, but her feet was on the floor and she was standing up with the help of his arms around her naked waist. Her nails were digging into him painfully as she looked at the post, which was now laying on the carpeted floor in front of them and not securely shoved into the wooded stage. "Are you hurt, Helga?" the director asked while the rest of the actors approached them. Arnold looked at her in worried expectance, but she wasn't answering at first. "Uh… y-yeah… Thanks to Football Head here." She said and readjusted herself in his hold, attempting to stand up straight, but her legs wobbled again. "I need to sit down though."

Without a second thought, Arnold tightened his hold around Helga and led her a couple of steps back to put her safely into her seat. She looked at him with something akin to confused appreciation, but she looked pretty shook up. Arnold crouched next to her and looked at her worriedly. She took a couple of hard breaths before scowling at the director. "Who was in care of putting that thing there?" she asked in a shaky, but angry voice. "I'll make sure to let them know of their mistake, Helga, but more importantly; are you hurt?" he asked again, but she swatted her hand. "No. Just… in shock." She answered only to then stretch her leg and look at her boot. "Aw, shit." She said and took the boot off, showing that the heel was now broken. "Sorry, Darlene…"

A slightly older woman with a gray tone in her dark blonde hair shook her head in understanding. "We can get new boots, Helga, but we can't get a new Adrasteia." She said and Arnold frowned in confusion for a moment until he remembered that Adrasteia probably was the name of Helga's character. It sounds familiar… I should probably google it when I get home. He thought and looked at Phoebe who looked just as worried as Gerald did. When their eyes met though, she smiled with appreciation. "Thank you for saving her, Arnold." she said and the rest of the crew chimed in and gave their own thanks. He simply smiled, feeling somewhat uncomfortable from the attention for doing something he hadn't done for the praise, but when he felt Helga's hand on his upper arm and saw her appreciative smile, he nodded. "Uh, you're welcome. I just… reacted."

"Thanks anyways, Arnold." Helga said and readjusted herself in the seat. "We've already lost one actor for breaking a leg. I'm guessing that everyone thought that would happen again." she explained and exhaled deeply. "You're missing an actor?" Arnold asked before sitting down next to Helga. "You can say that again." the guy called David chimed in and crossed his arms. "We're missing an Aiden." He explained. "An Aiden? I'm sorry, I don't really know the plot of the play. Is Aiden an important character?" Arnold asked. "He's the deuteragonist." David answered, but Arnold simply frowned in confusion. "Second most important." Helga explained in something akin to sympathy and he nodded in appreciation. "You being the most important, right?"

Helga shrugged in slight modesty, but nodded in earnest. "Yeah, I play Adrasteia, but she needs her Aiden as much as Juliet needs her Romeo." She explained with a sulk on her face as she took the other boot off her foot and looked at the director. "Any luck with finding a new actor by the way?" she asked, but he shook his head. "No." he answered, obviously not wanting to explain any further with people outside of the crew in the room. Helga sighed and leaned her head back on the seat. "Shit…" she muttered. "We're getting desperate here. The play has a deadline, people. We need an Aiden before next week so we need to start thinking out of the box… Do we know anyone with acting experience ourselves?"

Like a shot of lightning, Gerald grabbed Arnold's hand and waved it in the air. "I do, I do!" he chimed in a singsong voice, earning some confused stares, included from the boy whose hand he was holding. "Gerald!" he scolded and withdrew his arm to his chest. "Do you have acting experience?" the director asked, but Arnold shook his head instantly. "N-Nothing like what you guys are doing! We're talking small plays in high school. I'm no professional." He said and waved his hands around in slight panic. A maniac laugh from Helga caught everybody's attention and she looked at Arnold in disbelief. "You? Acting? Oh, please." She said with a bit of nastiness in her voice. "You're too honest. You can't lie worth shit so you can't act worth shit either."

Arnold frowned at Helga's words. Now, there's the Helga I know… He thought with a bit of disappointment. "I was actually casted as the hero in most of the plays in high school." He muttered in defiance, but that did little to nothing to stop Helga's laughter. "Yeah, in high school. Arnold, most of the people in front of you have acted professionally before. Some of us even for years. That Tall Hair Boy actually suggested you playing the role of Aiden is ridiculous. No, we need someone who can actually act." She said and stood up from her seat. "Helga, you haven't known me for seven years. You don't know what I can or can't do anymore." Arnold insisted and stood up as well. Helga turned and looked at him in disbelief, but she was also smiling. "Oh, so you have changed, Arnold?" she asked and started walking past him. "So you're not stuck in your same old ways anymore?"

"No!"

"So you don't help everyone else around you at all times anymore?"

"Well, I try, but - - "

"And you don't live at Sunset Arms anymore for the nostalgia more than anything else?"

"I do, but that doesn't - - "

"You're not still chasing dumb pretty girls that never gives you the time of day?"

"How would you - - "

"And let me guess." Helga said when she was finally right in front of Arnold. "You're not studying to be a therapist or something like that?" she asked and Arnold was dumbstruck at the accuracy of her presumptions. Was he really that see-through? Even at the age of 20 years? She smiled at his silence. "Figures. You haven't changed at all, Shortman." She said, crossed her arms and turned around again. "You can't save everyone all the time, Arnold, even with your good intentions. We need an actor, not a therapist."

"What does all that…?" Arnold started, shook his head to get out of his reverie and then scowled at Helga's back. "All those things don't tell you anything about my acting skills, Helga!" he said and she turned around to look at him in surprise. "Wanna bet?" she asked and walked towards to him once more. "Sure! Give me something to read aloud or something." He challenged and they were right in front of each other again. "It would be a waste of time, Shortman, something we can't afford to lose." She said, but then something on her face changed. He couldn't read her expression at all though. "You know what? Fine. I know just the scene." She said with something akin to malice on her face and then walked away. They all looked at her, afraid of stopping whatever she was planning, as she grabbed a large stack of paper from the corner of the stage and walked back to Arnold. "Wanna play actor? Go right ahead." she told him before shoving the stack into Arnold's chest. "Page 16 from line 4 to line 24. I'm gonna go get something to drink and when I come back, you'd better know your lines."

Arnold watched Helga as she walked away, clearly stomping a little bit. Once she was out of the room, he slumped down in one of the seats. "Never seen her like that before…" David muttered in obvious shock at the anger on Helga's face. "You're kidding?" Gerald asked. "That's the only way we've ever seen Helga." He added, but David kept looking at him in disbelief. "You're kidding?" he asked this time and looked towards where Helga had gone. "I'm gonna go and ask if she's ok." He told the director who nodded. "If she's ok?" Gerald repeated in disbelief while David walked away. "We would ask her that if she was being nice!"

The actors looked at each other in surprise at Gerald's words, but decided to ignore him. They each went to either talk with each other or practice their lines and Gerald was left back with Phoebe and Arnold. "What just happened? Arnold, are you seriously gonna do this? I was just joking around…" he said and looked at Arnold. The blonde boy was currently reading the text on the script very intensely, not at all listening to his friend. "Arnold?" Gerald asked a little worriedly as Arnold's eyes darted over the paper. He turned to cast a worried look in Phoebe's direction who did the same at him. "Roadside girl, huh?" he said and shook his head. "Arnold's new personal Macbeth."

Author's 2nd note: So this was the first chapter! Yay! Just so you know, the part where I mention that Helga was the one to get Arnold out of his room once his parents had been found dead is actually an old idea I have for a one-shot. I may attempt to write it, I don't know xD So this is it for now, hope you enjoyed and yadda-yadda-yadda xD Oh, and I am figuring that most of you know what Gerald means by "Roadside girl" being Arnold's personal "Macbeth", but in case you don't; Macbeth in the acting world is known to bring misfortune to a play if someone says Macbeth aloud. It's superstition, obviously, but it's funny when some people take it seriously xD

Song: "I'm your favorite drug" by Porcelain and the tramps

As always you are more than welcome to draw cover art for this story :D