Eleven O'Clock Number

MUSICAL #21: LEGALLY BLONDE

21: IT WAS NICE, JUST SIMULTANEOUSLY MINDNUMBINGLY BORING

« wait a second! this is the kind of girl warner wants! someone serious! someone lawyerly! someone who wears black when nobody's dead! »

"THIS?" ALLISON SAYS incredulously. "This is your favourite musical?"

Toby nods proudly. "You betcha."

"Not Les Misérables? The Phantom of the Opera? Rent? This? Your favourite musical is this?"

"Hey, you pronounced Les Mis right!"

"That's not the issue here."

"What is the issue here?"

"The issue is that this is your favourite musical."

"Yes, yes it is," Toby beams.

"Let me just clarify. You, Toby Martin, theatre nerd, all-around musical theatre dork – you. Your favourite musical is –"

"Legally Blonde," Toby's grin widens. "Yep."

"I feel like I should have seen this coming," Allison sighs.

"You probably should have," he agrees.

She glances again at the television screen, which Toby has connected his laptop to and is now paused on the first scene of the aforementioned musical. "But you're a guy," she says helplessly.

"Hey," Toby objects. "Sexist."

"But, like...it's Legally Blonde. The musical. Of Legally Blonde. And it's your favourite. Your favourite musical."

"I think we've covered this already."

"You –" Allison is cut off by the doorbell. Toby stands up.

"Hold on," he says. "We will resume this invigorating discussion in one second."

Allison rolls her eyes as Toby walks out of the room and down to the front door, before following him.

"Oh my God," Lydia says as soon as he opens the door.

"Uh – Lydia? Hey?"

"Let me in, distract me with whatever ridiculous form of musical theatre you're witnessing today," she says breathlessly without even bothering to return Toby's salutation. "And I hope your coffee machine is decent, because I need some coffee, stat."

"Um, yeah, the kitchen is over there..."

"You lucked out," Allison says dryly as Lydia storms down the hallway into the direction Toby has gestured to. "We were just about to start Legally Blonde."

"There's a musical?" Lydia queries as she enters the kitchen, locating the coffee machine almost immediately.

"That's right," Toby says happily. "It's my favourite musical!"

"Great," Lydia reaches to take a mug out of one of the cupboards. "Really. Great."

"Why so stressed?" Allison asks.

Lydia doesn't reply with words, only a frustrated sound made through her nose. "I hate parties," she says with conviction. "I hate them."

"Ah," Allison says.

"And I hate hosting them."

"Ah," Toby says.

"And I hate –" Lydia's rant is cut off by the ding of the coffee machine. Practically at the speed of light, Lydia's pouring the coffee into her mug and bringing it to her lips, sighing in satisfaction.