Page 6 of Specters & Spotlights

Elise shot him a look, half-grateful, half-dreading. Nick meant well, always did—but she’d learned that word-of-mouth could get messy fast, especially in tight-knit companies. Who knew what version of her was already circulating backstage?

Nick, perceptive as ever, picked up on her hesitation. “You’ll meet everyone tonight. I’ll make sure they’re on their best behavior—or at least fake it convincingly. Things have been a little... tense.”

“Sounds promising,” Elise said, eyebrow raised.

“It’s been a week,” Nick muttered. “Long story. Cast party drama. Think glitter, yelling, and more than one breakup situation. It’s especially fun when someone rage-quits. You know. The usual.”

Elise filed that away, adding another tally to her mental list titled Things I Probably Should’ve Asked About Before Accepting This Transfer.

Elise reached for a curling paper, then another. “I need to keep my hands busy,” she muttered. “Too much to do before curtain, and I’m already behind thanks to our friendly neighborhood Ren Faire dropout.”

Nick raised his hands. “Put me to work. I can multitask—help and pester you with questions.”

She nodded toward the scattered foam heads and curls. “Great. Just line them up neatly. I’ll do an inventory in a minute.”

“As you wish, madam,” he said, bowing low and nearly knocking over a wig stand with a swoop of his elbow.

She watched him for a beat—the sparkle of curiosity in his eyes unmistakable.

“So,” he began casually, while arranging a particularly floppy blonde wig, “what’s changed in your world? You seem… different. In a good way. More confident.”

Elise didn’t even look up from the curling iron. She could hear it in his voice—that careful, casual lilt he always used when he was working his way toward something.

“Alright,” she said, smoothing another section of hair. “Who’ve you been talking to in the First National?”

“Matthew remains a very committed source of intelligence,” Nick said, far too pleased with himself.

She snorted. “He’s a shameless gossip.”

“But he’s awfully cute,” Nick added with a shrug.

That got a real laugh out of her, soft and warm. “Let me guess. He mentioned I’ve gotten... weird?”

“Not weird, exactly,” he said diplomatically. “Just… more open. About certain things. Things that go bump. Or, you know. Boo.”

Elise paused, curling paper in hand. The old version of her would have laughed it off, changed the subject, tucked the truth back under her ribs where no one could inspect it too closely.

Instead she said, with forced nonchalance, “Yes, I can see ghosts.”

Nick tilted his head, waiting.

“Yes, that’s always been a thing,” she added, eyes still on the wig in front of her. “And yes, there’s one in here right now, being extremely nosy.”

She shot a look at Kevin, who responded by knocking a foam head off the counter. It hit the floor with a dull thud and rolled under the table like it was trying to flee the scene.

Nick blinked. “That’s… different.”

There it was. The half second where people usually decided what to do with her. Laugh. Flinch. Recalculate. Step subtly away.

Elise tried to shrug like it didn’t matter, like her heart wasn’t thudding. “I wasn’t exactly broadcasting it before. When we were both on the First, I was still trying to—I don’t know. Be normal? Or at least pass for it.”

She glanced down, smoothing a curl that did not need smoothing. “A few people in the First know now. My assistant, a few close friends. Not everyone. I was in the process of figuring out what it felt like to say it out loud and not immediately want to leave the room.”

Nick’s expression softened, but he didn’t interrupt.

She pressed the curling paper tighter than she needed to. “Anyway. I’ve stopped apologizing for it. Mostly. This is me. Weird and all.”

The words sounded practiced, because they were. She had said some version of them in hotel mirrors, in empty dressing rooms, once in a recording on her phone that she had immediately deleted.