The last few days had been a whirlwind of classes and homework and quad battle practice, and everything was starting to blend together. Ephy might have forgotten about volunteering for dress rehearsal, but Mother had messaged her the day before:

  

  Rose of Astaria: You are signed up to help at dress rehearsal. Don’t be late, and make yourself as useful as possible.

  Ephronia of Astaria: Yes, Mother.

  Rose of Astaria: We have a late filming the day of your performance, but I’m sending my assistant to record the performance. We’ll review it together later.

  The Zephyr Suite rehearsals had been going well, but Mother was never satisfied with anything unless she was personally involved—which is why Xyphon had to let her be executive producer of the show.

  Standing in the back of the auditorium, Ephy wasn’t sure who was in charge, but once Holly, the Air Quad leader, arrived, she seemed to begin directing everyone, so maybe it was student-run.

  Mother will be mad if there are no teachers here to impress.

  “You, you and YOU!” Holly pointed at Ephy. “Help them arrange those backdrops in the show order posted by the side of the stage.” Holly pointed to the stage wing.

  Ephy went backstage and found Oliver and a tall Asian boy struggling with a tall backdrop of a retro-style van. She grabbed the back of the cardboard van and lifted it up. “Where are we taking these?”

  The tall boy pointed at a large metal rack behind the stage. “We have to put them in show order on the rack and then hook them to the lines.” He smiled. “I’m Min Ho.”

  Ephy smiled back at him. “I’m Ephy.” She rested the cardboard backdrop on the ground.

  He blushed. “I think I’ve seen you around.”

  Oliver yanked on the backdrop, nearly tearing it out of Ephy’s hands. “Can we get this done?”

  Ephy felt heat rising to her face, but Min Ho laughed. “Chill, Ollie. It’ll get done one way or another.”

  Oliver hoisted the front of the van and started walking without looking back at the other two. Ephy yelped but lifted her end and helped them carry it to the rack.

  Oliver shoved it rather roughly into the third slot in the rack.

  Min Ho shook his head at Oliver but said nothing. He pointed at the two lines hooked to the metal bar in the front of each space and showed Ephy how to unhook the line from the rack and attach it to the holes on the backdrop.

  They did four more, including the backdrop for Jetstream, which was Oliver’s and Min Ho’s suite.

  “You don’t have a backdrop.” Oliver said. It didn’t sound like a question.

  Find this and other great novels on the author's preferred platform. Support original creators!

  “No.” Ephy replied, refusing to reveal more.

  Oliver smirked. “Better for us.” Ephy raised an eyebrow at him. “Is it?” He scowled.

  “Hey, c’mon now, Ollie. We don’t know what they’re doing.” Min Ho moved between Ephy and Oliver.

  “I know what they’re doing.”

  “What do you mean?” asked Min Ho.

  “It’s obvious. Airin is singing.” Oliver crossed his arms and raised his chin.

  Min Ho looked at Ephy thoughtfully. “Airin must be really good, then?” He peered at Ephy. “Any hints?”

  She felt a ball of hope rising in her chest. Oliver seemed really worried that they would win, which meant he knew how well Airin could sing. But she hugged herself and tried to keep her face from giving anything away.

  “What’s your thing here, anyway?” asked Min Ho. “I play violin.”

  “Drama,” Ephy said. “I’m studying drama, but I’m also in chorus.”

  “Hm, guess that’s why you volunteered to help set up. No instruments?”

  Ephy smiled, but it didn’t feel very convincing. “I used to play the harp, but there wasn’t really anywhere to use that in the middle school.”

  Min Ho nodded. “I think occasionally they have one with the orchestra.” He frowned. “That’s too bad. It’s a beautiful instrument.”

  Ephy grinned. “It’s really heavy, too. I’m kind of glad I don’t have to push one around anymore.” Min Ho grinned back at her.

  A dramatic sigh interrupted their conversation. Oliver was glaring at them, his arms folded, his foot tapping. Reminds me of Mother right now. “She’s our competition right now, Min Ho!”

  “It’s alright. Whoever wins will win fairly, and that’s fine.”

  Holly was clapping again, so the three went back to the stage. “Gather up, everyone. We have ten minutes until dress rehearsal starts, so I want everyone to pick up anything you see on the floor and take it to the wings. Then you can meet your groups in the greenroom.

  Ephy could hear her mother’s voice in the back of her head, demanding that she make herself useful. She picked up a grey sweatshirt off the floor and held it up. No one claimed it, so she draped it over a chair backstage.

  She followed Oliver and Min Ho to a large room with mirrors on all the walls and tables in the middle. Her suitemates were waiting for her.

  “Are you ready?” Liska said as she ran up to Ephy.

  Ephy nodded.

  Someone turned on the TV that was hanging from the wall, but it ended up on a documentary about cat shifters.

  “I wanted to watch everyone,” someone moaned. A teacher whom Ephy didn’t recognize said, “They will call you when it’s your turn.”

  Ephy exchanged glances with Liska and Airin. She was kind of glad hardly anyone would watch their first time on stage at EA.

  The clock inched forward slowly, but they were finally called to the stage, right after Min Ho and Oliver returned from their rehearsal.

  Airin sounded very timid throughout the song, and the teacher sitting in the audience kept telling them to sing louder. The older student in all black came out again and adjusted Airin’s mic, but then shook his head at the teacher. “It’s working fine.”

  Ephy could see Airin’s hand nervously gripping the bottom of their shirt.

  “It’s okay, Airin. You’re going to do great,” Ephy said. Airin needs to forget everyone else and sing, like in practice.

  They ran through their song, but the sound from the monitors was fuzzy and sometimes went out entirely.

  At the climax of the song, the monitor in front of Liska screeched with feedback from her guitar. Everyone in the room jumped. Airin clasped their hands over their ears and refused to sing the rest of the verse.

  The tech student messed with knobs and murmured things, but the sound only got a little better. The older student told them they would have it fixed by the show the next day.

  By the end, Airin was shaking, and Liska’s head was jerking back and forth from the tech student to Airin.

  “It’s okay. Today’s just a practice.” Ephy tried to reassure them both.

  Liska still looked mad, but said, “Papa always says, the worse the dress rehearsal is, the better the performance will be.” She sounded unconvinced.

  “We’re done. Let’s clean up.” The teacher dismissed them with a wave and turned to talk to Holly.

  Ephy guided a still-shaking Airin off the stage behind Liska, whose guitar cord trailed behind her after she unplugged it from the floor input.

  Hopefully, tomorrow will go much better.