I felt my eyelids drooping while she did, barely able to hold them open anymore; she had chased the adrenaline from the nightmare right out of me.

“Tired?” Noelle asked, an amused lilt in her voice, when she was finished.

“M-hm.”

“Do you think you can sleep now?”

“Yes,” I murmured. “Thanks, Elle.”

Noelle’s eyes widened a little before she smiled, gathering all the makeup products and getting to her feet. I curled up beneath my blanket as soon as she did, barely registering the moment she turned off the music and the lamp next to my bed.

“Sleep well,” she whispered.

A moment later, I heard the door to our room opening and then shutting again as she stepped out into the hallway. Under different circumstances, I would have asked where she was going, but any clear thought slipped out of reach as sleep pulled me under.

13

Seth

Drama club rehearsals became my favorite part of the week.

Being in the auditorium felt like a safe haven, the stone walls and red velvet seats muffling the noises from outside like we were in the belly of a ship. As soon as the door fell shut, reality slipped away and my head went quiet, all thoughts about schoolwork and my parents disappearing in the distance like a tiny island in the sea. In here, everyone had a purpose, and everything made sense. When things didn’t go as planned there were no real consequences; whenever someone felt lost, all we had to do was look into the script and we were back on course.

Things were easy and predictable, all of us safe as Jasper steered us towards the vision he had in mind.

I loved watching everything come together—the costumes, the set, the acting—as everyone grew more confident in their roles. Most of all, even though I would have rather died than admit it out loud, I loved watching Jasper. That was another thing about the auditorium: while I avoided his gaze during the day, in here staring at him seemed allowed.

I could have spent days like this, tucked safely behind the control panel and studying Jasper from afar: the way he paced back and forth when he gave his thoughts on a scene, his hands gesturing dramatically, silver rings glittering in the stage lights; the way his face lit up when a line was delivered exactly like he wanted, his grin all teeth and pride; the way he commanded the attention of everyone in the room with just one word or a well-timed clap, a clearing of his throat, or just the sound of his heels as he strode across the stage.

Jasper des Lauriers was the most fascinating person I had ever met, so much so that it almost felt wrong to not direct the spotlight at him the entire time.

Today was different than our usual rehearsals. After going over a few scenes for two hours, Jasper had gotten out several huge pieces of cardboard and said that anyone who wanted could stay and help paint some of the background so that the tower didn’t “look as lonely,” as he put it.