“I feel like we’re betraying Charlie just by being here,” Sierra whispered to Ethan in the back of the auditorium at Jasmine Beijao’s sold-out Q&A. The Chamberlain had even brought in that talk show host from Boston, Grace Garfield, to moderate. The event had been mandatory for apprentices, or technically, it was considered a perk. But Sierra didn’t see it that way.
“...and I’m so glad you asked.” Jasmine fluffed her hair. “For a long time it really was a curse, looking the way I do. It’s a struggle, beauty. And then I got Canis Lupus and my entire world changed—”
Ethan rolled his eyes at Sierra.
“This, of course, was the film about a woman in the Alaskan wilderness who’s essentially raised by wolves that scored you an Oscar nomination,” Grace said, as applause broke out. Jasmine put her hand to her ample chest, mouthing thank-yous as though winning a pageant. “Tell us how you were able to get into character.”
“Well, Grace, it wasn’t easy. She was very...ugly, frankly. It was really out of my comfort zone—”
“The character is actually quite warm and loving though, which is the point of the film—”
“No, I mean, physically ugly. I had to dig deep to imagine what it might be like to not be as blessed as I am. It was a lot of work, especially with the prosthetics. But you know, a rewarding journey.”
Sierra looked at Ethan. They’d both had enough. Without a word, they quietly left their seats and the theater.
Charlie had missed her days of solitary flying sessions so much that she had been arriving early ever since moving to the main stage to rehearse with lighting, sound and set pieces. The pendulum with her wires and harness was already attached to the flight track above the stage—evidence that Mason was here, somewhere—and she’d started to strap herself in when the doors flung open.
“Look who I found!” Mason called out as Danica trailed him with Gianni at her side.
“Sally had a meeting, so he’s coming to rehearsal,” Danica said, frazzled.
“Hey, buddy.” Charlie crouched down on the stage, holding out her hand for a high five, which turned into their secret handshake.
“I brought Sparky,” Gianni reported, hitting his enormous backpack.
“Welcome, Sparky,” Charlie called as though the robot might be able to hear.
“Can we see you fly?” Gianni asked, unzipping the bag, taking out an iPad.
In no time, Charlie was buckled into her harness, Mason at the wires hoisting her up. Gianni stood in the aisle, not even taking a seat, yelling up question after question as he watched her flip and soar.
“How do you do that? Have you ever gotten stuck? Can I try that? Is she heavy?” he shouted.
“Let’s see, to answer everything,” she started. “You arch your back and dive. Not really. No, you can’t try. And—Mason?”
“She’s pretty light, mostly because of the way the system is weighted so I’m lifting half of her weight instead of all of it,” Mason called down to Gianni.
“Can I see? If I promise not to touch?” the boy asked.
Mason allowed Gianni to stand beside him and watch, prompting even more inquiries. Gianni even programmed Sparky to roll to the center of the stage and wave at Charlie as she hung upside down like a bat.
As the cast trickled in, Charlie grounded herself, slipping out of her harness. Nick still hadn’t arrived. It would be a long day. When she looked down at Gianni, already bored and tired, playing a game on his iPad, which he would be doing for the next five hours, it felt like watching her own childhood, electronics aside. At least this wasn’t typical life for him. He seemed to have so much more stability than she’d had. Charlie thought of every actor who had ever been kind to her.
“Have you ever seen a trapdoor?” She knelt beside Gianni’s seat. He perked up, shook his head. “Ask your mom if it would be okay.”
Two minutes later, Charlie and Gianni were running through the halls down to the storage room under the stage, with Mason. Danica had been highly suspect when Charlie had asked permission.
Charlie helped Gianni step up into the pop-up toaster, a clear cube, no top, set on a hydraulic lift directly beneath the trapdoor. She crouched down, holding his hand as Mason slid open the passage above them.
“So curl up like this.” Charlie folded herself into a ball. “And then it’ll toss us up into the air.”
“And then we’ll be on the stage?” he said.
“Exactly.”
“On three,” Mason said. “One—”
“Is it okay if I scream?” he asked.
“Absolutely,” she said, then muttered to herself, “That’s a question I ask myself daily.”
As they waited for rehearsal to start, Harlow gabbed on and on. She seemed on edge.
“I just think maybe they shouldn’t have scheduled the New York trip so close to opening,” she said.
“When else would it be? It’s like the only day the theater’s dark,” Alex said.
Sierra wondered if Harlow was concerned less with scheduling and secretly about seeing supposed friends of hers on Broadway, celebrating their success.
“Sorry! Let’s get started.” Nicholas jogged up the aisle now, fifteen minutes late.
“Is it just me or has he been kinda weird since closing night?” Ethan asked Sierra, sounding guilty.
“Maybe it has to do with whatever happened with you and Charlie.” Harlow turned to them, overhearing.
“Tripp was on his morning run and said he saw Nicholas coming out of that log cabin thing,” Sierra reported.
“Tripp runs?” Harlow asked.
Tripp appeared beside them now, slinking into an aisle seat. “Yes, Tripp runs,” he said, offended. “A body like this doesn’t just happen through sheer force of will.”
“Last day of dress rehearsals, so, we gotta focus today,” Nicholas announced to them. “Who are we missing?”
As he scanned the group, there was a BOOM and a scream, as Charlie and Danica’s son, Gianni, shot up through the cutout and landed on the stage.