Dolores sighed and watched herself in the mirror. She applied another layer of lipstick. They were thinner than they had been ten years ago. She thought about everything that had happened between her strange time in the Labyrinth up to her 1976 production of Phedre. Her life had been a series of dreams and nightmares. She had gone to Hollywood, as planned, landed some acting roles, as planned, and had even been able to set her family up comfortably. She had gone through a series of horrendous scandals and multiple husbands. She never had any children and the paparazzi's had too many pictures of her drinking.
"Dreams and nightmares" Dolores whispered to herself. She took another swig of her whiskey. She often wondered what had happened to Firch, the handsome sailor. She always told herself that he lived a comfortable life in the Labyrinth. She felt a pain in her chest and frowned.
Perhaps I should have asked about Firch. There was a knock on her door and someone told her through the door that she had ten minutes until curtain. Her chest felt tight and she took her last swig from her glass. The whiskey burned this time and she caught her own gaze in the mirror. She thought about the Goblin King's sad eyes and felt pity for herself. The glass slipped from her hand and cracked upon hitting the floor.
"Firch" Dolores said before slumping in her chair, her heart giving out.