Other than that, people fidgeted, texted, paced back and forth, went to the viewing or practice area, or complained, to anyone who would listen, how no real competition would be run this way.

Katrina shrugged, then glanced at Mr. Tso’s envelope.

What was real, anyway?

One by one, a musician’s name was called to get ready. One by one, someone came in to take them away. One by one, they disappeared.

And then it was her turn.

Katrina was led to an area just offstage. She picked up Aubergine and kissed her. “In all of this, you’ve been innocent. I’m sorry.”

Katrina reached for the dogwood bow. She wasn’t afraid of it. She didn’t hate it. In a way, it was just as helpless as she was. And besides, it was with this bow that she would set Miss Satomi free.

The announcer began her introduction.

“You may have seen our next musician’s videos—if you are into that sort of thing. Performing a medley of gaming music, please welcome transgender activist and violinist, Katrina Nguyen.”

With Aubergine and the dogwood bow, Katrina Nguyen walked onto the stage.

Crass. Tasteless.

This had been like no competition Shizuka had been part of. Why even mention her being transgender? The girl was here to be a musician—why couldn’t they have just said her name and let her perform? The audience was already beginning to snicker.

And then, Shizuka Satomi noticed that Katrina held a dogwood bow.

WHAT?

She’s made her choice, Shizuka. There’s nothing you can do, except enjoy the performance, the voice of Tremon said in her head.

As if to underscore Shizuka’s helplessness, the announcer kept going.

“Before you start,” the announcer said, “you look great. I mean there’s no way that I would ever have the guts to come onstage in a dress like that.”

The audience laughed as if this were the funniest thing in the world.

Katrina shrugged and smiled innocently. “It’s really not so different from sex work.”

The laughter stopped. There was muttering and uncomfortable shifting as Katrina turned to the crowd.

What had Miss Satomi said?

There are a lot of different ways to fuck on camera. Or onstage.

The stage lights were far brighter than they were in the park. There was no way her eyes would adjust; she’d be facing a wall of darkness the entire time.

Whatever. She didn’t need to see their faces to know what they wanted. The crowd wanted to be entertained. Mr. Tso wanted her body. And Tremon Philippe wanted her soul. And what did she want?

A glass of tangerine juice from Miss Astrid.

And with that, Katrina looked into the darkness and began.