Page 43 of Specters & Spotlights

“Elise,” she said, returning the smile. “Though I’m guessing you already knew that.”

“I had a hunch.” Gina raised her glass slightly in salute. “Nice work back there. That last change was seamless.”

“Thanks to you,” Elise said.

Gina disappeared into the crowd. Elise watched her go for just a moment, then turned toward the sound of voices and midi-tracks.

Nick intercepted her the moment she tried to slip quietly past the velvet-draped entrance to the karaoke room.

“Elise can sing,” he declared, as if announcing the arrival of royalty. “Someone get this woman a mic!”

Elise laughed, shaking her head. “Absolutely not. I’m here strictly to watch you all make fools of yourselves tonight.”

“Lies,” someone called from the bar—Morgan, the ensemble member, if memory served. “That’s what they all say.”

She gave a modest shrug, clutching her bag like a shield. “Really. I’m just here to witness the chaos.”

And chaos, indeed, was unfolding. The Bennet sisters had cornered the prop master by the snack table, gesturing wildly with plastic swords from an earlier production someone had inexplicably brought along. Romy was dueling dramatically with a fake baguette. Talia and Sienna were arguing over whether Ed (stoic as ever, nursing a cider) would break if they called him “Fitz” all night. Bex’s partner, visiting from out of town, had been instantly absorbed into the social web—already mid-debate with Gina the costume tech about the ethics of stealing stage makeup for drag night.

Near the wall, Isla Kent was curled into one end of a lopsided couch, sipping something dark and knitting what looked suspiciously like a tea cozy. Frankie Moreau, Mr. Bennet himself, was trying to convince Avery and Rae to join him in a jazz rendition of “Single Ladies,” while Devon and Benji attempted synchronized choreography in the background.

Elise took it all in with a soft smile. Her grip on her bag eased, just a little.

Nick leaned closer to Elise with the practiced subtlety of a theatre kid trying to whisper. “You’ve already missed a lot. The Bennet sisters convinced Stage Left Steve to sing, but they won’t tell anyone what song they signed him up for. Bex’s S.O. brought cupcakes—chili chocolate. Oh—and Lark bailed.”

Elise tilted her head. “Oh?”

“Lovely Lark,” he said, dragging out the name. “She ghosted—or at least, hasn’t showed her face yet. Not that anyone’s complaining.”

He looked at her sideways—soft, deliberate.

Elise blinked. “Did something happen?”

Nick only raised one brow and sipped his drink, leaving the silence open.

Elise was unsure whether he was teasing or warning.

Before she could decide, Marcie swooped in, beer in hand. “You are singing tonight,” she said with mock authority.

“I am not,” Elise replied.

“She’s shy,” Nick explained.

“I’m observant,” Elise corrected, folding her arms with theatrical calm.

Marcie grinned, unconvinced.

Just behind them, Romy’s voice piped up from near the snack table. “Hey—anyone else notice that Ellen didn’t show? She lives for cast parties.”

That made a few heads turn. Elise caught a quick glance exchanged between Bex and Sienna. Someone murmured something about last time.

Elise made a mental note of that. Ellen hadn’t struck her as the cast-party type—but then again, maybe that was before the drama. The last party had been right before the company transfer, and the tension between Ellen and Lark had practically curdled the punch. It wasn’t hard to imagine both of them deciding it was easier to sit this one out. Self-imposed exile.

Devon had finally surrendered to the cursed karaoke tablet, leaving “Do You Hear the People Sing?” blaring at full volume over a mismatched light show. Benji and Lex leapt up to choreograph an impromptu dance number, dragging Mila and Morgan into the chaos. Ed took a deep breath and joined them—arms stiff, expression solemn, moving with the tragic grace of someone deeply committed to the bit.

Elise laughed despite herself, caught between affection and secondhand embarrassment.

“I need a drink,” she said, mostly to Nick.