He raised his chicken tender to his mouth to take another bite, then paused and looked at it carefully. “This is okay,” he said with a nod, then took a bite.
“How fast after you eat something do you get symptoms?” I asked, taking a bite of my own dinner and giving silent thanks that I didn’t have any food allergies to always be on guard for.
“Pretty fast. Like, within a few seconds, I start to have a reaction. So I guess I must have accidentally had something right before I went out onstage? And I just didn’t realize it.”
“So you’ll be careful on your end,” I said, glad that this was manageable. “But we have to let your bandmate know and see what’s going on with him.”
“I can’t believetwoof us get sick,” Freddie said, shaking his head. “And that we both get sick from different things? It’s not like we catch the same bug. It’s kind of a big coincidence.”
“I know,” I said slowly. It actuallywas. But these things happened, right? I’d seen it with my own eyes. I took the last bite of my chicken and pushed my tray away.
“Ready?” he asked. I nodded, but before I could get my tray, Freddie was picking it up for me. “I’ve got this,” he said, giving me a quick smile.
He walked away, stacking the trays near a trash bin. I picked up my bag and had just started to walk away when I noticed he’d left his phone lying on top of the table, just like he had before. “Freddie?”
He turned and saw me holding up his phone, and his eyes went wide. “Oh bollocks. Thank you. My mum always said I’d lose my head if it wasn’t attached to my neck.”
I smiled at him. “I know.” I handed him his phone, and he tucked it into his back pocket.
“Now,” he said, starting to walk toward Pixar Pier. “Let’s find Alfie.”
I’d never been backstage at any kind of music venue, and I could feel my eyes were wide as Freddie led me up around to the back of the stage that had been set up in front of the Little Mermaid ride. He pushed through the wooden door confidently, not seeming to think it was an issue that it was clearly markedEMPLOYEE ACCESS ONLY.We walked down an outside path, until he pulled open a door that was unmarked and held it open for me. Inside, we walked down a narrow hallway, with three people sitting on cases stenciled withETON MESS, playing cards. I recognized the purple-haired girl who’d been helping to set up the equipment and was now frowning at her hand as she looked around the circle.ETON MESS CREWwas emblazoned in white onto the back of her black T-shirt. The other two guys also looked like they might be in the crew—they were both wearing black as well and had walkie-talkies clipped to their belts.
“Call,” one of the guys said, raising an eyebrow.
The girl narrowed her eyes. “I feel like you’re bluffing,” she said. She looked up and smiled at Freddie. “Hi, Freddie. Is Van bluffing?”
“Hey, Violet. I can’t tell you that,” Freddie said with a smile. “Hold on. Let me get a picture.” He took a picture of the poker game with his phone—everyone shielded their cards—then set it down on the case closest to him. “Is everyone else in the green?room?”
“Not His Majesty,” Violet said with a roll of her eyes. I took a breath to ask a question, just as one of the other guys cleared his throat. “Right. Okay,” she said, focusing on her cards again.
Freddie headed down the hallway, and I heard Violet groan—apparently the hand hadn’t gone her way. “His Majesty?” I echoed as I followed behind Freddie.
“Oh? yeah,” he said, giving me a slightly embarrassed smile. “That’s what some of our tech crew call Niall. Not to his face,” he added quickly.
“Why?” Judging from his picture and his demeanor onstage, I was pretty sure I had an idea. But considering this whole band was made up of Brits, I didn’t know if it was because he was actually, like, twentieth in line for the throne or something.
“Well,” Freddie said, taking a deep breath, “he can sometimes be a little…self-important? He doesn’t mean to be—but heisthe lead singer. Niall’s always wanted to be the star.”
“It doesn’t bother you?”
“I mean, I’ve known him forever. I think I maybe I understand him better than other people? He means well,” he assured me as he opened up a door markedGREEN?ROOMin the Disney font.
We walked inside, and I looked around, taking it all in. It was a small room, with a couch, several chairs, and a food station on a table in the corner—a fruit platter, a veggie tray, rows of bottles of water lined up neatly. Along the side of the wall were rolling clothes racks with the outfits I recognized from the performance.
“Hey, Fred! Where’ve you been?” the redhead—the one I’d last seen stumbling from the stage in misery—was walking over to us with a happy smile, a paper plate in his hand.
I stared at him, trying to hide my surprise. It was unsettling, to know what would happen to him later, whereas he had no idea. For the first time, I felt a kinship with the ancient forebearer of my name—Cassandra, who could tell the future. In her case, though, nobody ever believed her, which I was hoping wouldn’t be the same with me.
“Sorry I’m late,” Freddie said as he set his messenger bag down and glanced up at the wall clock.
“Hi!” the redhead said cheerfully to me. “I’m Alfie.”
“Cass,” I said, tilting my head to the side as I tried to place what I’d just heard. All I knew for sure was that he didnothave a British accent. “Are you…Australian?”
“Naur,” Alfie said, then he grinned. “Guilty. They couldn’t find enough Brits who could get work permits fast enough, so they turned to the better country.” At this, Freddie snorted, and Alfie shrugged. “At least I’m from the Commonwealth, though. Not like ‘Tristram.’” He put air quotes around this, and I frowned, just as the dark-haired drummer emerged from a door at the back of the room.
“Speak of the devil,” Freddie said, giving him a nod.
