[Anne may or may not have passed out on the floor of the Roller Rink overnight on Wednesday. When she does wake up, Thursday morning, she has to do the walk of shame from the roller rink, in last night's whole getup, the jacket of her fur tossed over her shoulders, stupid tear-away shorts clenched in one hand, her portrait tucked safely under the other arm.
She makes it downstairs-- gently rests the portrait against the wall, and then scrambles into the lady's room, where she basically collapses on the floor by the toilet, leaned over against the stall. It's probably gross and full of germs, but she has a 1500s understanding of that. And it's nice and cool against her face-- which she's sure is just because of the hangover, even though she's partied this hard before with lesser consequences. As she slumps there, she sings to herself in a quiet voice--]
It's just Anne in the bathroom, Anne in the bathroom--- after a party---
[And then she stops, to have a good coughing fit.
Eventually, she makes it up and into her room, where she at least gets herself presentable again-- denim overalls and a ridiculously floral blouse with huge bell sleeves. She doesn't stay there long-- no- not at all. She first grabs the portrait from the hall-- but instead of hanging it up for everyone to see, it's shoved under her mattress. Then, the star from her door is removed, and stashed atop the armoire, out of sight. Her clothes from the night before, and everything she showed up in, are shoved in the back of the armoire, far underneath the pile of things she's swiped from the costume shop. Her letters, that damned picture of Henry, anything else precious she may have in her room-- and Tad and all his various accessories are swept up into his little Tad-basket, and then, once she's erased all evidence of herself, she's bolted out of that room like her very life depends on it.
For the rest of the day, she can be found either pushing herself into hiding spots anywhere possible. Good thing she's so small. Or, she may also be found beating on the other dressing room doors, with the same desperation someone may have if the opera house were on fire.
cw: sickness, hallucinations
She makes it downstairs-- gently rests the portrait against the wall, and then scrambles into the lady's room, where she basically collapses on the floor by the toilet, leaned over against the stall. It's probably gross and full of germs, but she has a 1500s understanding of that. And it's nice and cool against her face-- which she's sure is just because of the hangover, even though she's partied this hard before with lesser consequences. As she slumps there, she sings to herself in a quiet voice--]
It's just Anne in the bathroom,
Anne in the bathroom---
after a party---
[And then she stops, to have a good coughing fit.
Eventually, she makes it up and into her room, where she at least gets herself presentable again-- denim overalls and a ridiculously floral blouse with huge bell sleeves. She doesn't stay there long-- no- not at all. She first grabs the portrait from the hall-- but instead of hanging it up for everyone to see, it's shoved under her mattress. Then, the star from her door is removed, and stashed atop the armoire, out of sight. Her clothes from the night before, and everything she showed up in, are shoved in the back of the armoire, far underneath the pile of things she's swiped from the costume shop. Her letters, that damned picture of Henry, anything else precious she may have in her room-- and Tad and all his various accessories are swept up into his little Tad-basket, and then, once she's erased all evidence of herself, she's bolted out of that room like her very life depends on it.
For the rest of the day, she can be found either pushing herself into hiding spots anywhere possible. Good thing she's so small. Or, she may also be found beating on the other dressing room doors, with the same desperation someone may have if the opera house were on fire.
She is not fine.]