“Natalie, what do you—?”

“You’re fired,” I say.

Reid blinks. “What?”

“You’re fired,” I repeat.

“No,” Reid says.

“Reid—”

“No.” His eyebrows scrunch together. “I know I didn’t show up for a while because I was pissed. I’m still pissed. But I’m here now. I’m here and I’m not like you. I’m not going to destroy this thing we built because I’m mad at you. It sucks, because you’re getting exactly what you wanted, aren’t you? It sucks that I want to be here, that I still care about this show, that I—”

“You’re fired because you’re going to Albany.”

His eyes widen. “Wait. What?”

“Saturday. They can fit you in at the end of the day.” I hold out my phone to Reid and show him the email that Jenny Nelson forwarded to me.

I forward the email to Reid. It contains a confirmation notice with his audition number and day-of instructions. “It’s all set. I bet my dad will drive you there and everything.”

Reid doesn’t move for his phone. “What about Melted?”

“What about it?”

“Who’s going to be Moritz?”

“That’s not your problem.”

Reid shakes his head. “It is.”

“I’m firing you from acting and this being your problem.”

“It’s still our show,” he says, his voice low. “You can’t fire me.”

“Reid, you have an Albany Institute audition. Take it. Be selfish.”

Reid ughs into his hands. “This was never supposed to be an ultimatum.”

“I know, and that’s my fault. I’m so sorry. For ruining everything. Not just Melted. I should have given you the benefit of the doubt.”

“Well, we’ve spent, what, a decade fighting each other? Skepticism isn’t… surprising.”

“Still. These last few months were different. I should have known that.” I stand up and swing my backpack over my shoulder. I want to stay more than anything, try to get him to forgive everything and go back to where we were. But I know that’s not fair. Not yet. Reid has his audition to focus on and I’ll figure out a way to get Melted together and maybe, eventually…

“Nat—?”

I turn around, pressing my back against the door. “Yeah?”

He holds up the confirmation email on his screen. “How?”

“Groveling. Lots of groveling.”

“You hate groveling.”

Reid smirks, only for a millisecond, but I saw it, it happened.

I nod. “I do.”

“I… have an audition?”

I nod again. “You do. Don’t mess it up.”

He takes a step toward me. “I won’t.”

“I know. For what it’s worth, I’m not skeptical of you anymore. Not at all.”