“You know,” Cole, a scraggy brown-haired senior, said casually, “I’m glad Gabi never showed up.”

Spencer scoffed, getting up to toss his plate. “I would not have believed a single word had she been the one trying to apologize.”

“Hey!” Miguel snapped, “Watch it, she’s still my girlfriend.”

“And?” Spencer shrugged. “She still sucks.”

“You’re making me regret this,” Miguel said, incredulous.

“Is that all it takes for you to take back your apology?” Drew jeered, “The two of you really are actors after all.”

The ex-king Anuris was all but fuming. “No, I’m not taking anything back. I meant everything I said.”

The stagehands however, couldn’t help but laugh at how easily they’d gotten to him. Still sulking, Miguel left the group and went to discard the now empty serving trays. Everyone else finished their meals shortly after, and hung around in their groups digesting before anyone even thought about resuming their work. Nellie wanted to remind them that they only had an hour left to finish cleaning but before she had the chance, the stage curtains parted, and through them three musae stepped  onto backstage. A beanie-wearing Max; Raul, tall and handsome as ever in a hoodie and pleather jacket; and Heather, their assistant director.

“No way!”

“Dude, Max!”

“Heather, oh my goodness!”

In an instant, the new arrivals were surrounded by their exhilarated crewmates. Their bright hair and shimmering musae eyes were the biggest attraction, drawing a dozen questions at a time. For Nellie, it was still a shock seeing Raul and Max with their new colorings, but Heather – Heather was the biggest surprise. Her brows and thick shoulder-length waves of hair were now bleached white, leaving her tan complexion as the only hint of color on her round face. And as a Light musae, the irises of her eyes seemed almost translucent now that they were dyed with the energy of her powers. 

Seeing her forced a cold tightness in Nellie’s chest. Heather had been great to work with throughout the show - bringing a lot of energy to rehearsals and was never afraid to make her voice heard - so it wasn't anything against her. It was more that the light Instrument had been Nellie’s last chance at a meteor. She hadn’t expected to be confronted this soon by such a vivid reminder of how close she’d been to becoming a muse herself. And though the other students in the crew were keeping Heather busy, Nellie hoped that her initial reaction hadn’t revealed the sorrow she felt inside. She’d have to make a stronger effort to keep her mask up until she was used to being around Heather and her other classmates. But truth be told, she wasn’t even used to the Sorairos yet. When it comes to someone else living out your dream, it doesn’t matter how close you may have been to them before, it still hurt seeing them experience what could’ve been yours. And it hadn’t even been a single day since Meteora. There would be countless musae everywhere now. Would each one she met be a reminder of the life she missed out on? Would they always take note of the anguish in her eyes and take pity on her? 

 “Where were you when the meteor struck?”

The cheer in her classmates’ queries helped snap Nellie back to the present. They were still surrounding the musae, each as eager as the next to voice their curiosity about the fabled powers. 

“Did it hurt?” Jalen said, following up to Adelinde’s question.

“Are they hard to control?” Spencer’s eyes shone with admiration. “Your powers I mean.”

Hasan, wearing a shrewd grin and a joke in his inflection, wrapped an arm around Raul. “Are you dropping out of school now?” 

“And where’s Yuè?” 

Max recounted how she had to take their brother to his tennis lessons, but forgot to mention that she too had gained an Instrument as his crewmates bombarded him with further queries about his own powers. Someone in the crowd pressed him to show off his Instrument as Raul and Heather did their best to address everyone else. Max ignored the request, not wanting to damage anything indoors or hurt anyone as Yuève had, but before long others picked up the call to see the Instruments and their unified pleas became hard to ignore. 

Standing tall over the others, Raul found Nellie's eyes staring in longing from the wings of the stage. He was biting his lip, and wore a scowl on his face as he turned away from the pressure the crew was pressing onto him, but a sigh escaped him and his expression turned from grim to contrite once he realized how the whole scene must've been affecting Nellie. She in turn however, simply shrugged, as if to say, “Whatever. It can't be helped.” 

Succumbing to the cheer and demands of her fellow actors, Heather cleared a space around her to show them all a bit of what she could do. She held out an arm and in an instant her palm began to shine with an iridescent white light. She smiled brightly as the power flowed through her, neither hot nor cold, but dazzling all the same. 

“Hey, wait!” Ozzy pushed his way to the front of the crowd, interrupting the blinding display. A grin spread across his roster as he gave Max a playful jab to the ribs, and continued, “Before we do any of that musae craziness, I've gotta know… does the carpet match the drapes?” 

Another collective groan resounded throughout the stage, “Ozzy…”

And Nellie turned away as those who weren’t shaking their heads ousted Ozzy from the group circle, though from the sneer on his face she couldn’t tell if he was smiling or felt scorned while being  pushed away. On the other side of the stage she saw Miguel carrying a stack of cardboard flats to storage. She thought about berating him for avoiding Max, but considering that Miguel was one of the only crew members who was actually cleaning, she let him be. Irene was bound to show up at any moment anyway, so they had to get something done.

Nellie made for the wings of the stage again where she’d left the large paper fans they had modified to imitate the raging wildfires seen in the second act of Reem. Big set pieces like that were to be stored in a closet near the dressing rooms to be broken down at a later date. Though winter intramurals were set to start in the coming week so she and a lot of the others in the crew might be too busy with their extracurricular activities to take care of the props in a timely manner.

“Hey, Nellie?”

The fans fell from her hands as Nellie glanced to see Heather appear from within the stage curtains. With even breaths, she did her best to hide her shock at the light musae’s sudden appearance. How did she get away from the others? “Heather! Hey, what’s up?”

The light musae spoke carefully, as if she didn't want anyone prying on this moment of vulnerability. “I’m sorry I was late,” she said. Her eyes, soft as moonlight, were wide saucers. “I know how it must’ve looked coming in and immediately drawing everyone’s attention away from work.” 

Nellie blinked. “Dude, what? No, don't worry about it. Yesterday was a big day for all of us, you deserve to celebrate.”

“Thanks,” said Heather, hesitantly. “But I dunno. Since you let me direct last night I didn’t want you to think that I was also taking advantage and letting your efforts go to my head.”

“So what happened then?”

“It was my parents. They didn’t want me to come. I was already at home with my sisters when Meteora passed. When we woke up in the morning and saw the news about Fort Maelstrom, my family begged me not to go out today.” Heather's voice rose quickly as she spoke, regaining some of its usual vigor. It reminded Nellie of when she herself would stomp around, venting to Yuève about her dad or anything else that had riled her up. “They were worried it would be too dangerous for musae to show themselves–”

“Well it’s really us aeons that should be scared, no?” It was Spencer. He and some others in the backstage crew drew near, having heard the two girls talking behind the curtains. “Look at what happened to the Eden.”

“I couldn't believe it when I saw the news,” Adelinde shook her head.

“Do you think that maybe someone got wind and decided to attack?” Heather said, looking as if her family's fear had kept her from talking about the topic and she was finally free to discuss the events of the previous night. 

Beck waved a hand as if to dismiss the idea. “No, that’s literally impossible.”

“The attack came before the meteors anyway,” concurred Spencer. 

“You guys have it all wrong,” insisted Cole. “The wind attacks happened in Maelstrom. No one knows what happened to the Eden.”

“Wasn't his office attacked or something?” Spencer had a finger on his chin, thinking back to the news he'd seen in the morning. “I heard they dispatched Machian Marshalls to The Pharum.”

“I just hope that you guys will be all right,” Adelinde said to Heather. “Musae just got their powers, we can't start treating them like criminals or we'll be at each other's throats this whole generation.”

Heather nodded in agreement, hoping the others didn't see her as a threat. “Thanks. But to be honest, I'm still not sure if I'll be using my pow–” 

“WHAT IS GOING ON HERE?” 

Nellie nearly jumped out of her skin at the sound of the theater administrator's voice. Irene had appeared through the backstage doors and now stood with hands on her hips staring up at the winding staircase that led down from the catwalk. You could almost always find someone loitering on its steps, but no one was there at that moment because its black steel rungs were covered in a flourish of vines and mauve bougainvillea flowers - the same ornamental plants that Nellie had once grown with Arashi. 

“Is this how you repay my trust? I've had other students play pranks before but no one has ever dared to mess with my auditorium!” Irene's arms flew into the air matching the theatrics of her voice and countenance. 

Then she noticed Max. 

He was on the ground, catching his breath on one knee as the others in the crew stood clustered behind him. Irene took one look at him, another back at the garnished staircase, and then returned to face the fourteen-year old. She didn't need to meet his eyes, his thick emerald hair told her everything she needed to know. 

“By the Stars, I completely forgot…” Her awe was as present in her voice as it was in her widening eyes. “You have Instruments now.” She made a big show of calling everyone over so that she could fawn over the newly risen musae. With Max, she even proclaimed her adoration for the flora decorating the staircase. She asked him how long the flowers would last, being born of musae energy, and if he had practiced growing anything else with his powers. Once her curiosities were out of the way, she addressed the crew as a whole and praised them for a job well done the previous night. The kids cheered, and jumped, and cried at the affirmation, relieved to have the approval of someone who was known to be so uptight and meticulous about how a stage show was to be conducted. 

“Nellie,” called Irene, once the crowd had broken and everyone scattered to finish tidying the stage. “A word please?” 

The blood drained from her face, leaving only dread on Nellie's roster. As the play’s director, Nellie knew coming in that she would be spending her day stuck in conversations with her crew but not once had it occurred to her that she would also have to face a loquacious Irene. If Nellie had never taken a narrative class and learned what a monolog was, she would've figured it out the first time she'd met Irene. The woman could practically talk your ear off, and on a day when every inch of Nellie's being was begging to curl up in a corner and let her heart bleed, having an audience with Irene had to be one of the most grueling tasks asked of her. 

“You know, I had my doubts yesterday,” the elder thespian began. The two of them had moved to the second floor balcony, out of earshot from anyone in the crew. “I've never let a class run their own show before, but overall you did a great job. Ticket sales were even higher than expected for a one night show.”

“Thanks,” Nellie feigned her gratitude. “Jalen and Mabel really came through for us.”

“Yeah, I'll have to have a word with Miguel before he leaves.” Irene paced about the landing while Nellie looked on from one of the corner seats, avoiding her eyes. “I certainly wouldn't have handled that whole debacle as well as you. With so much on your plate I'm surprised you were even able to put on the show. Though I suppose it helps when your play is based on a story that is trusted and preserved by the Eden’s Rosid.” 

There it was, the subtle jab meant to remind her who was in charge. During pre-production, Nellie had always snapped back about the legitimacy of the Gentle Breeze. She couldn’t remember the number of times she had explained that the fable took place around Meteora and that recreating those scenes would do much more to honor the celestial event than any of the Rosid’s accounts of the Shadow Epochs like the Diamond Bolt Rebellion. Irene wouldn’t hear it though. Her people, the Thalatchee, were native to Nithica and saw themselves represented in the retellings of the Shadow Epochs. To them there wasn't a real need to challenge the norm because the Rosid provided anything they could ever need. 

But that had never been enough for Nellie. Ever since Andrew Erra had told her that there were things she needed to keep secret, it had felt like she couldn't truly share the memory of her mother. And if she couldn't tell others about Shamae then could Nellie really be herself? Nellie feared that she would forget the girl she used to be if she didn't share the memory of her and began to wonder if anyone else in the world had lost their identity because of the Rosid's approach to history. As she grew older, the things she did share led her peers to see her as the girl whose only love would ever be the Instruments, and this helped subside the doubts she felt about her identity for a while, but now that Meteora had passed she didn't even have that. She felt as lost as ever, stuck in a life where people like Irene felt free to impose their will and opinions on her. The old Nellie would've spat back at these ideas, but the fight in her was gone, and stars knew what else. 

“I'm honestly impressed Nellie,” said the theater administrator with her nose in the air. “I want you to stop by my office this week. We'll brainstorm ideas for a show in the spring, would you dare try your hand at directing a musical? It would be in the middle of prom season but I think we could pull it off.” 

“I'll be busy actually,” Nellie responded matter-of-factly. She didn't even consider the offer made to her. “Yuè and I wanted to try out for the track team.”