Ok, here we go! Another Cats self insert! Bear with me, though, guys, because like I said, this isn't a traditional self-insert. Or maybe it is, you'll have to be the judge.

I tend to overanalyze things a lot, especially if it's something I love (read: am obsessed with) like movies and Broadway plays/musicals, etc. I catch things that some people overlook, and read into things a lot more than people should. So as I was watching Cats for the first time ages ago, I kept asking why? Why is the junkyard the way it is, why do the cats act that way, what deeper story is there that we don't get to see in the short time we have to watch?

And I decided to make notes, and save them for a rainy day. I am pleased to say that day is today, and so without further ado, I give you: What do Jellicles do, anyway? (Subtitle: The time I spent as a cat)

*Sorry, more ado. I apologize in advance for any spelling errors, and if some of the characters seem a little OOC. I did my best to portray them accurately, but I am also following my head canon, so that's the reason for that.*

Hope you all enjoy, and let me know what you think in the reviews!

- Raven

I clicked the spacebar on my laptop, effectively pausing the movie, and leaned back with a sigh. I had just finished watching Cats- for the 10th time that week. It was a dream of mine to be in that show, one that would most likely go unrealized as I had no ballet training whatsoever and was sorely lacking in balance and grace. But it was great to watch the people who did have those skills, and admire the way they danced.

More than the dancing, the cats themselves were the best part of it all. And the Junkyard...oh the fun things I would do in that place. So many hidden spaces and secret lairs and junk to play with and on and under. I always wondered what I would do if I ever got the chance to be a part of Cats, but I eventually stopped because I was just torturing myself.

I packed away my laptop and grabbed my keys from the table. I was, ironically enough, going to see Cats on Broadway in a few hours; you know, before it moved to the West End. As I got into my car I contemplated, not for the first time, of how all the good shows always ended up on the West End, instead of coming to Broadway.

I made it to the theatre just as the line was starting to form outside the entrance, and I sent a text to my mom to let her know that I was there and would be back late so not to wait up, and I love you, and don't forget to leave some chicken for me. I turned my phone on silent and shoved it into my purse before climbing out and jogging across the street to take up a spot in line. I ended up a few feet from the door, sandwiched between a woman with a screaming little boy and a man who looked so much like Neil Patrick Harris it scared me. I did a few subtle side glances, but I knew better than to out rightly ask if it really was him; I had made that mistake too many times before, never ending well each time. I comforted myself with the thought that if it really was him, why would he being watching Cats when he had his own show to do, or some vacation spot to be on the chance he had a break?

The line moved surprisingly quickly, and I was in my seat with the playbill in no time. Of course, just my luck, the woman and the screaming boy were seated right behind me, and the kid had now taken to screaming profanities in my ear. I shouldn't have been surprised, but I still was, though he shut up when the lights dimmed and the show started. The familiar overture started, and the lights on stage came up and danced in strange patterns in time with the music.

The Junkyard came into focus, and I leaned forward in anticipation as the cats began to make their appearances. Everything went exactly like I knew it would, only 1,000 times better because I was seeing it in real life. The only part I didn't enjoy as much as I thought I would was the Rum Tum Tugger. One of my favorite scenes, (and with good reason) was partially ruined by the boy behind me. He took to kicking my seat in time with the music, and I cast angry glares at the boy and his mom in an attempt to get him to stop. But she didn't seem to be concerned about it; she was probably just glad he wasn't screaming in her ear anymore.

He stopped kicking as soon as Grizabella arrived and the music turned darker, and I was beyond relieved for that. I wasn't sure my back could have taken any more. The short sequence of Grizabella's rejection played out silently and intensely, and I shivered involuntarily, not for the first time glad that I wasn't in her position.

Then the scene jumped ahead to Bustopher Jones, and the audience laughed at all the talk of food and his white spats. Soon enough, it was Mungojerrie and Rumpleteazer, and their infamous cartwheel across the stage. It was even better in person that the movie. The boy behind me fell asleep during Old Deuteronomy, as did the man next to me, and they didn't wake again till Memory, which was chilling and beautiful at the same time, and had several people bursting into tears.

I chose to stay in my seat during intermission, and checked my phone to see if I had any new messages. There were just two from Mom, Ok, followed by What time will you be back?

The lights flashed, announcing the start of act 2, and I barely managed to send back, Not late, probably midnight, don't wait up. I knew she would worry, and would probably stay awake anyway, but that was just how she was. I didn't have time to worry about it as the show started again, and I was swept back into the story. And then, Macavity appeared, and the epic fight between him and Munkustrap was made so much more epic, with a slight change in choreography that made it that much more cool.

Then, Macavity made his mad dash for the wires, the ones that would turn out the lights in the Junkyard. I was on the edge of my seat at this point, as was everyone else, waiting to see what would happen. Just as he was about to plug the two cables together, Macavity paused for dramatic effect. In the movie, he looked out at all the Jellicles and grinned, maybe even laughed, before looking up at the wires and blowing the lights.

But this time, instead looking out at the Cats, he looked out, and directly at me. I froze, feeling that everything was slowing down. No, surely he wasn't looking at me, all the way up in the front mezzanine. He was looking at the audience in general. But when I turned my head to scan the crowd, I couldn't. My eyes darted around and I saw that everyone else was as frozen as I was, though they didn't seem as panicked as I was.

My eyes whipped back to Macavity's, who I knew wasn't real, was just an actor in costume and makeup. But in that moment, it felt real. Macavity's eyes flashed, and his mouth formed a wicked grin before the cables connected, and there was a blinding flash of light, a feeling like I was flying, and then darkness.

Complete and total darkness.