Fiddling with my headset, I stood tapping my foot to the overly happy song that the cast was currently performing.  The headset was pretty awesome, it gave you authority and made you look way more important than you probably were since typically only the stage managers got one but apparently I had proven myself worthy of the holy headset. But boy, was it annoying. Constantly getting in the way of everything with its cumbersome battery and slipping headphones. Timmy was being his usual superstar self on stage, singing and dancing and knocking it out of the park as he always did. I still couldn’t get over the fact that he had managed to snag a lead as a freshman, and being so GOOD at it.  I was jealous in a way, but a good kind of jealous. A proud kind of jealous. 
“Why are you smiling?” Another one of the freshmen crew members, Elle, nudged me gently.
“Huh?” I covered my mouth with my hand, as if to catch my smile. “Oh, nothing. Just enjoying the show.”
“We’ve seen it like three hundred times.”  Well, she was right. That’s what happens when you are at rehearsal for 8 hours a day.
“So?  It’s cute.”
“Yeah, he’s doing a really good job.”
“I know, right? Timmy is fantastic.”
“When did I say Timmy?”
I looked at her, silently thanking the Lord that it was dark as hell backstage. “Well, I mean--well, uh, they all--like, I meant, he and like, the--well, you see what I’m trying to say is, well, I--”
But Elle just winked, and returned to her position in preparation for the blackout that was happening in like 30 seconds.  I’m clearly very good at staying poised.
“Annnnnnnd...go!” The stage manager, Sarah, whispered forcefully into the headset.  The job of the stage crew is a lot tougher than it gets credit for; we have to move swiftly, yet silently, we had to make everything look flawless, yet in less than a minute, we had to place objects and heavy walls in exact positions, yet in complete darkness. I was moving rapidly to the center stage with my partner Jenna.  I quickly ran over the check list in my head--move Wall Right back. Shut the curtains. Center Wall out. Turned, facing the audience. Fences on Stage Right out, and angled. Same with Stage Left. Go, go, go, now, now, now! I heard the voice of the director shrieking in my head as I tugged at the wall, desperately trying to get it to move in the proper direction.
“Jenna,” I hissed.  “What the hell is going on?”
“I don’t know! It won’t budge!”
I gave it one more big pull, forcing it backwards with all the strength I could muster behind the curtain. 
“Lights up!”
Wall down.
“Curtains to position 3!”
Someone, please help me.
“What’s that noise?”
Can’t you hear my voice?
I blinked a few times in the darkness, too numb to feel the weight of the wall being pulled off my body. I couldn’t synthesize my thoughts, all I heard was a loud ringing of my headset, which had dropped to the ground when I did. I felt the gentle embrace of Sarah hoisting me upward in a sitting position, and the deafening applause of the audience as the show continued in front of the curtain. The director was wiping what must’ve been blood off my leg, holding my head to her chest and asking me how I felt. Then someone grabbed my hand, lacing my fingers with theirs.  I wasn’t unconscious or anything, but definitely not in a perfect state of mind. My legs felt pretty scratched up, and my palms felt slightly bloody.  But clearly the person didn’t care, gripping harder onto my hand. I squeezed back.
And then, intermission. The lights flickered on brightly, and I shut my eyes reflexively. Much of the crew was sitting around me with looks of concern, and the wall was standing behind me, but it looked splintered and cracked up pretty badly.
“Oh my god, I’m so sorry--” I croaked, only to be hushed by the director.
“Don’t worry about the wall, look at me. Are you okay? Are you hurt anywhere? Can you walk?” Her eyes searched mine frantically.
“No, no I’m fine, I can walk, I’m just a little shaken up and...” I looked down at a nasty looking cut crawling down my leg. “Battle scarred.”
“Esha.”
My eyes made their way from our interlocked fingers to his face, which, to my surprise, was reddened and slightly tear-stained.
“Timmy,” I smiled through my small tears of pain, turning away from the director who was now yelling at everyone to get back to work and get ready for Act II. He violently ripped his hand from mine and threw his arms around my neck, trembling against me.
“Timmy, what’s wrong? Are you nervous? You’re doing so great!”
“No, stupid!” He brought his face to mine, holding my cheeks in both his hands. “What HAPPENED? Holy crap! I was just sitting backstage waiting for the cue, and, and..and, I heard that ENORMOUS fall and Elle, Elle, she said you were back here, and I, I, if you had gotten hurt, and if something had happened to you, I--” His voice trailed off as he looked at me. And then I busted out laughing. He furrowed his eyebrows, glaring at me. “This isn’t funny!”
“You’re such a drama kid. Fitting, am I right?” I laughed again, using his shoulders to support my weight in slowly standing up.
Timmy gaped at me in disbelief, clutching my hand and walking me to the edge of Stage Right. “I have never met anyone quite like you,” I heard him whisper.

“Could you be anymore obvious that you’re in love with Timothy?” Another crew member, Cam, and I were walking towards the stage for the second night of the musical. Tech call was always earlier by an hour and a half, but I heard noise coming from the auditorium.
Slightly distracted and confused, I responded “What? Sure...Sure I can make it more...obvi...ous...?”
I frowned, perplexed as to why there was such a commotion going on. If any sort of high school ruffian was causing trouble in there, the director would kill us. Seriously. No mercy. Actually death. I walked quickly to the door, pressing my ear to the heavy wooden door and pushing it open.  I stood with my mouth hanging open like some sort of dumb tunafish, feeling a horrible mixture of annoyance, jealousy, and a sprinkle of malice. “Hey, Cam?” I called rather loudly.
“Uh, ouch. No need to yell. I’m right next to you.”
I turned to my left to face him. “Oh, sorry. Haha.” I placed both hands on his shoulders and looked deeply into his eyes.
A boyish grin immediately formed across his lips. “Oh, what’s happening here? I like where this is going.”
“Remember when you asked me if I could make it any more obvious?”
“Considering I said that less than 5 minutes ago, yes I remember.”
“I’m about to make it even more obvious.”
Cam threw his head back and laughed, evidently pretty amused. “Aye, capt’n. What’s the master plan?”
“Just follow my lead.”
I linked my arm with his and sauntered in as matter-of-factly as I could, blatantly refusing to acknowledge the frenzy of post “promposal” jittery teenagers.
“Gina, that was so freaking cute. You and Tim are gonna make the SWEETEST prom couple.”
“Gina! Asking a freshman to senior prom, eh? Risky! I like it! Have fun, girl!”
“My two favorite people going to prom together?! AMAZING! Sit at our table, won’t you?”
Amidst all the sickeningly sweet comments about some senior ensemble girl’s promposal to Timmy, I noticed him hugging her politely and smelling the roses he had gotten from her while wearing a smile so wide it could have split his face in half. He was clearly surprised by Gina’s promposal, tinted a blush red and a little sweaty.
“This was so awesome, Gina. I love you so much. I’m gonna miss you like crazy next year, best friend!”
“There was no one else I’d rather go with. Love you too...best friend.” She leaned over and kissed his cheek, winking, and walking away to jump around with her other senior friends.
It was time. I tugged at Cam’s arm and sprinted up the stage, right in front of Timmy’s field of view.
Hair flip, hair flip. Lick of the lips. Place arms seductively around Cam’s neck. GO. “Oh Cam,” I crooned. “You are SUCH a good dancer.”
“I am...?”
I laughed a little too loud. “You’re SO funny. Why don’t you teach me that move you showed me last night? You know, the one with your hand on my waist and my hands in yours...that super ROMANTIC one.”
Cam looked at me desperately, mouthing, “What are you talking about?!”
“Cam, you’re a dancer? No way. Me too,” Timmy piped in, strolling closer to us.
“Humph. Cam has a certain...certain refined talent. You wouldn’t understand.” I forced Cam’s hand onto my back and swung with him nonsensically around the stage, dipping and twirling and getting a little too close for friends. I held Timmy in my peripheral vision, seeing him go from bemused to quite disinterested by the time he realized we looked like two idiots bounding around a dusty stage. Without thinking, I whirled Cam right to where Timmy stood, taking his face into my hands and planting a big, fat kiss right on the mouth.
“Wow,” breathed Cam, smiling stupidly.
“What?” Timmy said, arms crossed.
“Why?!” Jeremy yelped from backstage, facepalming.
“I had no idea you and Cam were an item,” Timmy began slowly, scratching at his face and lowering his gaze.
“They’re NOT, she’s just being a moron, actually--”
“--I HAVE ALWAYS BEEN IN LOVE WITH CAM,” I interrupted, cutting off Jeremy. 
“You have?” Timmy responded.
“That’s...that’s right!” I hugged Cam from the side just to prove my point.
“What’s his last name?”
“Well, obviously, I know that. It’s easy. Give me some real questions, will you?”
“Nah, I’m good. Just wondering what his last name was. Could you tell me?”
I blinked a few times, tapping my foot and opening and closing my mouth. “Well...well you know WHAT?”
“Yeah?” Timmy replied, stifling a smile.
“When you’re in love, something as frivolous as a last name doesn’t even MATTER.”
“Well, at least I--”
“You at least what?”
He looked around quickly, snatching Gina’s arm as she walked by and pulling him toward her. “At least I know Gina’s last name.”
I squinted at him. “Prom couples aren’t in love.”
“How would you know?”
“Yeah, how would you know?” Gina spoke in a throaty voice, gazing at him. I could literally see the hearts popping out of her eyes.
“Because I know things.”
“You don’t even know Cam’s LAST NAME!”
And with that, I stomped away backstage, only to be stopped by Jeremy.
“You’re acting like an idiot. Timmy already--”
“Go away,” I said angrily, pushing him aside.

“Girl, it’s closing night.  When you gonna make your move?” Lily plopped down next to me, munching on a quesadilla she had in her bag. Again, a true character this one was.
“Yeah, you’re running out of time,” Elle chimed in, breaking off a piece of Lily’s quesadilla and popping it in her mouth.
I let out an exasperated sigh. “I just don’t know what to do.”
“Just go DOWN on it!” Lily suggested, spewing pieces of cheese and tortilla from her mouth as she spoke.
I flicked off a half chewed morsel of her dinner off my pants. “Lily.”
Elle laughed, nodding her head in agreement. “A quality piece of advice.”
I smiled halfheartedly, patted both their heads, and went in search for one of my favorite people involved in the technical crew who I knew could give me more serious advice.
“Nina!”  I jogged up the tall, curly dark haired sound technician, another freshman.  At the sound of my voice, Nina turned around, pulled her headset down around her neck, and grinned, chewing a piece of gum.
“Hey baby. What’s up?”
“Nina,” I groaned, flopping my head onto her chest. “How do I make Timmy love me?”
She chuckled and rubbed my back. “I knew it. I knew you liked him back!”
I rose my head up immediately. “What do you mean liked him back?”
She smiled softly. “Just talk to him. He’s got that 15 minute break after the 2nd song in the first act.”
“Is 15 minutes enough?”
“It’s plenty,” she winked. “Good luck!” She turned to go but stopped herself. “Oh, and Miss Esha, go get your headset please. It’s TIME! Chop-chop!”  She was always pushing me to go put on that bulky pest.  But she was right. It was nearly showtime.
“Ugh. Ew. Fine.”  I took it out from its usual spot in the back of the auditorium, fiddling with the volume and frequency controls one last time for the year. “Test...1...2...--”
“3,” whispered a voice behind me.
“Timmy!” I gasped, caught off guard.
“Hey speed racer.”  He fastened the suspenders of his outfit for the first half, flitting his eyes up every so often. “So where are you after the 2nd song in the first act?”
Woah. Deja vu. “Umm...well I am the assistant stage manager for stage right...so...stage right...”
Timmy laughed nervously. “Right.  Haha get it, Stage Right...and ‘RIGHT’. Haha. Duh. Okay. Good luck.” He gave me a quick squeeze before opening the band room door and running in for vocal warm ups.
Hm. Okay. I brushed my fingertips along the railing of the stage and stepped up to my position.  The stage crew was technically supposed to be there during warm ups, but I never went.  Too much individual attention, and if there was anything I hated a lot, it was that.  So I hid back here, sprawled on the couch that we used for each of the living room scenes. Boy, was it a pain to pull that out basically every other scene, so large and bulky. And all the cast members kept putting their nasty tap shoes on it, marking it with gross scuff marks and--
“Hiding, speed racer?”
I jumped up and my headset crashed to the ground. “Holy...god...damn. Hi Timmy.” I leaned down to pick up my headset off the floor, feeling the couch sink next to me as he sat down.  The light backstage was pretty dim, but I could make out the outline of his face and a small smile on his lips. And his eyes. They were so blue.
“Shouldn’t you be in warm ups?”
“I should.”
“The director is going to kill you.”
He waved me off. “She’ll live.”
“So,” I started, closing my hands together. “What are you doing...here?”
“Everyone knows you hide here.”
I looked at him in disbelief. “Really?”
He nodded. “You’re the only theater kid who doesn’t love attention.” He smirked. “It’s pretty noticeable.”
I shrugged. “But that still doesn’t answer my question.”
“Right. Well, I...” his voice trailed off, his gaze fixed on my arm.  “What is that?” he asked, pointing to a thick headband tied around my wrist.
“It’s a headband.”
“Headbands...are supposed to be on your...head.”
I felt myself turning red. “I keep it around my wrist just in case...like, if I need it or, like...”
“You can’t wear headbands with your headset.”
I just stared at him, challenging him to look away first.  But he didn’t.  Finally, he spoke.
“That’s not a fashion statement, is it.”
I looked down, shaking my head.  “I don’t even wear headbands.”
He scooted closer to me on the couch, taking my hands and rubbing it over with his thumbs. “What’s going on? Why are you doing that to yourself?”
“It’s...it’s hard to explain...it’s...it’s...” I stammered, feeling hot, pathetic tears in my eyes.
“No, no.” He placed his hands on my face, forcing me to meet his look. “No. You’re gonna tell me what’s wrong and I’m gonna fix it.”
I nodded, biting my lip. “It’s just...” My voice cracked embarrassingly, but I continued.  “Everything with school, and so much pressure to just be the best and...have it together all the damn time and be pretty, and be skinny, and be smart, and make people like you...it’s just...so exhausting...” Tears were rushing down my face pretty rapidly now, wetting the sleeves of his costume. I shook my head. “It gets to be too much. And...and Kevin, the way he just dropped me like that...” I trembled. “It hurt me a lot more than I care to admit.” I shut my eyes hard, bringing my hands up to my hair and pulling.  “It hurt me stupid amounts. And I took it out on myself, because it was my fault that it failed. It’s my fault that we can’t even look at each other anymore.”
“You don’t have to be perfect all the time,” he said quietly, lifting my hands from my hair.  “All you have to be is you, and you’re a human.  Do you know what humans do?”
“What do they do?” I asked, smiling gently.
He smiled back. “They make mistakes.”
I laughed, throwing my arms around his neck. “Why are you so nice to me?”
“Well,” he began, still engulfed in my embrace. “I guess I don’t have to wait until the 2nd song in Act I to tell you.”
I broke away from him. “Wait. Nina...?”
He nodded. “She told you to talk to me then, didn’t she?”
“Yeah...yeah, she did!” I felt a tingling feeling creeping up my fingers as he took them into his.
“Here,” he pulled a chocolate colored bunny out from behind him. “This. This is Charlie.”
“Charlie, huh?” I took his paw and sat him in my lap. “Well, hey there.” I toyed with his little polka dotted bow tie.  “He’s really cute.”
“He thinks you are too.”
I smiled, bouncing him on my lap. “Why, thank you dear Charles.”  I looked back up at Timmy. “Why are you giving him to me?”
“He’s to make you feel better. And keep you happy. He’s also my wingman.”
“Your wingman?” I retorted, raising my eyebrows. 
“Yeah. His cuteness is supposed to help me win her over. This girl. She’s...amazing. But she doesn’t see it at all.  I would love to spend all my time letting her know that.”
“Aw.  Who’s this mystery girl?”
Suddenly, the lights flashed on, and the actors for the first scene began filing in.  Showtime.
“You,” he said softly, stealing a quick kiss off my cheek before entering the stage for the last time of the year.