Still, he was not expecting to find Stewart in the same turquoise suit he’d had on last night, sprawled like a sea star in the middle of the stage. Judy sniffed his hand and wagged her tail. He was making a low groaning noise. Archer joined the dancers standing in a loose circle around him. There was no panic on anyone’s face, only resignation.

“What’s wrong?” Archer murmured to Mateo.

Mateo scrubbed a hand through his hair. “We got a bad review.”

“We—A review? People review this show?”

“Well, not really. I guess someone posted about Around the World last night. Said it was, uh … sloppy, stale—”

“Sloppy!” Stewart wailed at the rafters. “And stale.”

“And—”

“—not worth the ten-dollar cocktail.”

Archer cringed. “Oof.”

“That’s it, my darlings!” Stewart continued. “I’ve had it. Time to put old Stewart Harpham-Lale out to pasture. I’m sorry, Judy, I’m no good to you now. You’ll need to find your own way.”

Judy let out a plaintive yip.

“It’s not your fault, Stewart,” Mateo sighed. “It’s mine.”

“It’s not your fault, Mateo—” Archer started.

“Why are you so nice to him?” Caleb cut in from across the circle. “He’s such a dick to you.”

“He’s not a dick,” Archer started to say at the same time Mateo protested.

“No one asked you, Caleb.”

Caleb glared back, hands on hips. “Oh, but someone asked you?”

Mateo’s chest inflated. “Stewart did, actually.”

“Give me a break. You’re not the boss here!”

Mateo laughed, a humorless bark. “You’re really going to go with ‘you’re not the boss of me’?”

“Alright!” Archer yelled, cutting off the arguing. “We can all agree that the show last night sucked. Right? It was sloppy. We know we can do better. As far as stale goes—what if we made some changes?”

Stewart flopped his head over toward Archer. “What kind of changes?” he asked in a small voice. “Please, tell me, sweet Archer.”

“What if we … put in some acro? Cirque du Soleil–type stuff. You know, from Canada, maybe instead of the line dancing.”

Stewart sat up.

“I did a lot of acro as a kid, and I think Caleb did, too. Anyone else?” he asked the troupe. About half of the hands went up, including Ben’s and Beau’s, as they sulked.

“We don’t need to change anything.” Mateo stepped forward, glowering. “The show is fine. It’s gotten messy, is all, which I’ve been saying for weeks. And one person with too much time on their hands didn’t like the choreo. We don’t need to do anything drastic.”

“Hmm.” Stewart sniffled.

“What we need is for everyone to show up on time, leave their personal shit at the door, and give it their all every night.”