“You two are really on the same page, huh?” I asked. I unlocked my computer and checked the messages. While the page loaded, I began fishing things out of my bag. Makeup, a hot roller for my hair, hair stuff, a clothes brush…

“We’re the ones on the sideline for this,” Rain said. “Us two and Chris.”

“And Natalie,” Rain said.

Natalie nodded. “I’ll be at the studio, so I can monitor Kenzie, but please don’t put me on stage.”

“Absolutely won’t,” I said to her, before looking back to the pair of Rain and Sveta. “Your vote counts.”

“This is your thing. You and Tristan, you understand… PR,” Sveta said. “And I do want to learn, so I understand it for next time, but I trust your instincts more than I trust mine. I know almost nothing. You make the tie-breaking call on bringing Ashley.”

I nodded slowly. I didn’t want it to be me. It put me pretty squarely between multiple members of the group, and the fact that so many people were abstaining made it feel more like feelings would be hurt.

I looked at Ashley, and saw her with her chin held high. Kenzie practically bounced as she talked to her.

That was Kenzie’s happiness. In motion, restless and hard to restrain, words falling out of her mouth rapid-fire.

“Tristan,” I called out.

Byron switched. Tristan walked over to me, then asked, “What?”

“I’m thinking we should bring Ashley.”

“They’re going to shit-talk Kenzie,” Tristan said. “I’m going to have trouble not punching faces. Ashley will have a harder time.”

“She can’t hit people like this.”

“She can say something, though,” Tristan said.

“So can we. Worst-case scenario, we blip her out, explain it away.”

Tristan drew in a breath.

“If it’s the two of us alone, it’s going to feel like we’re the PR team. They go after one of us, or they create an issue, and we’re done. Bring Kenzie in, it feels more personal. Bring someone like Ashley in, and I think we’ll shed the image of being the public relations branch of something bigger, because it’s easier to have an actual, natural back and forth.”

“Can’t bring Rain,” he said. “Not enough projectors, according to Kenz. Can’t bring Chris, because we want to win this PR battle. Sveta?”

“No,” Sveta said.

“Then Ashley. Fine, makes sense,” he said. He went back to what he was doing with his costume buckles and plates.

Sveta helped me by holding my bag while I fished past stray receipts, some paper, and finally got the last of the individual makeup things out.

“You don’t want to come on?” I asked her.

She shook her head. “I can’t do—that. The makeup, the hair. I don’t have the clothes for it. I’m toxic, too.”

“Toxic? No,” I said.