My heart is pounding so hard I can feel it in my throat.
Backstage is pure chaos. The cast is in full costume, makeup done, hair styled, everyone buzzing with an electric mix of excitement and terror.
Standard for opening night of a play we’ve been working on for weeks, but times five.
Mr. Davies zips back and forth like a man possessed, clipboard in hand, yelling orders at everyone in sight.
“Someone fix that backdrop! It’s crooked! Lighting crew, where’s my spotlight? I said warm tones, not jaundice! And for the love of god, someone get Derek a breath mint!”
I smooth down the front of my costume, a periwinkle button down dress that makes me feel like I’ve stepped straight out of the 1940s South. My hair is done in similar fashion—or as close as you can style butterfly locs to mirror an omelet fold hairstyle.
Derek appears beside me, tugging nervously at his suspenders. “Good luck out there,” he says, his voice a little shaky.
“Thanks.” I manage a tight smile. “You too.”
He grimaces. “I just hope I remember all my lines.”
“Yeah,” I say dryly. “I hope you do too. For both our sakes.”
He releases a nervous laugh, then wanders off to take his place, leaving me alone with my racing thoughts.
I can’t resist.
I creep toward the heavy velvet curtain and peek through the gap, scanning the audience as they settle into their seats. The theater is filling up nicely—waymore people than I expected.
My stomach does a flip.
Then I spot them.
Front row, right in the center. Silver is sitting with Tabby on one side and Jack on the other. Jack is already munching on a bucket of popcorn, his legs swinging beneath his seat. Tabby has her phone out, filming what looks like a short reel or TikTok, her lips moving as she narrates something to the camera.
But Silver—he’s already looking right at me. As if he was waiting for me to peek out. As if he knew I would.
He winks reassuringly and melts away most of my nerves. A few butterflies are still present, but they’re not so frantic anymore.
…because he’s here. My biggest supporter. The man who believes in me even when I struggle to believe in myself.
I can do this.
I step back from the curtain, a genuine smile spreading across my face. Around me, the cast for the opening scene is lining up, everyone finding their marks. Mr. Davies is still barking orders, but his voice fades into background noise as I center myself.
I’ve got this. I’ve worked too hard to let anything ruin tonight.
This is what I’ve always wanted—to be an actress and star in a production.
“There she is.”
Any excitement I’ve built for the moment I walk onto stage dissipates.
I turn at the sound of Shay’s voice as she and Yvette approach from the wings. They’re dressed like they’re here for a night out partying, not a community theater production, wearing tight dresses, full glam makeup, and matching expressions of malicious delight.
My worst nightmare, materializing right before I’m supposed to go on stage.
I try to ignore them, turning my back on them, but Shay steps into my path. Her dark eyes glitter with cruel satisfaction.
“Hold up fast, Lana,” she says. “We wanted to drop by and show you what we’ve been up to.”
Yvette holds up her phone, the screen facing me. Showing me images from the night I’ve tried to move on from. “We finally managed to get into Spencer’s cloud.”
