PREVIEW

PREVIEW
~Anna's POV

THREE WEEKS LATER

I've learned how to function.

Wake up. Shower. Daisy's coffee. Rehearsal. Come home. Don't check the news. Don't think about James. Sleep.

The last two are lies. I think about him constantly.

Today's rehearsal starts like every other—Dwayne pacing the stage, Mark stretching in the corner, Tommy fighting with his Zeus toga for the hundredth time, Becky complaining about her costume being too tight.

"It's been a month," Tommy groans, untangling himself from white fabric. "This bedsheet still hates me."

"It's not a bedsheet," Becky snaps. "It's a classical Greek chiton."

"It's a bedsheet with delusions of grandeur," Tommy mutters, making Mark snort.

The Blackbox Theater has become my second home, or maybe my first, since Daisy's apartment is just where I sleep. These people, even disaster-prone Tommy, have become my makeshift family.

"Before we start," Dwayne calls out, clapping his hands for attention. "Big news. The Meridian Productions preview we've been preparing for? It's officially scheduled. One week from today. Next Saturday night."

The room erupts in nervous chatter.

"One week?" Becky squeaks.

My stomach tightens. I knew this was coming, it's been in my contract since I signed it a month ago, but somehow having a date makes it real.

"They're bringing the investors they promised," Dwayne continues. "VIPs who'll decide if this show becomes a film. Broadway scouts, production companies, industry heavy-hitters. This is what we've been working toward."

"Zeus wouldn't trip over his own lightning bolts," Tommy mutters.

"You only tripped three times during warm-up," Mark says. "That's improvement."

"From yesterday's five times," Tommy agrees morosely.

"Enough!" Dwayne cuts them off, though his lips twitch. "We're professionals. Or at least we're pretending to be. Anna, you good with this?"

I nod. What else can I do? This is what I signed up for.

"Good. From the top of Act One. Full run-through, no stops."

I step into position. Mark takes his place across from me, already shifting into Prince George's posture, shoulders back, chin lifted, the bearing of a man who's never been denied anything until he met a cursed princess. Tommy stumbles to his mark, toga trailing behind him like a bridal train gone wrong.

"Seline," Mark begins, voice dropping into character. "You're trembling."

"I'm always trembling," I respond as Seline. "Love makes cowards of us all."

The words hit differently now. Three weeks ago, I could barely say them without my voice cracking. Now they flow like truth. Because they are truth. I was a coward. I ran. I gave James an ultimatum I knew he'd fail.

"Again," Dwayne calls from his director's chair. "More pain, Anna. She knows she's going to lose him. She's always known. Show us that inevitability."

I close my eyes, the weight of loving someone who chose someone else. The weight of being left behind.

"I'm always trembling," I repeat, and this time my voice breaks in exactly the right place. "Love makes cowards of us all."

"Perfect," Dwayne says quietly. "Just like that next week."

We run through the entire play twice. By the time we break for lunch, my throat is raw from Seline's death scene, where she screams her lover's name before the curse takes her.

Today, when I delivered the line—"You promised you'd fight for me! You promised!"

"That was..." Dwayne clears his throat. "That was perfect, Anna. Don't change a thing."

During break, I find Tommy and Mark outside on the fire escape stairs. Tommy's eating a sandwich while still wearing half his costume.

"Anna, tell Dwayne that Zeus should wear pants," Tommy says through a mouthful of food. "The Greeks were wrong about the whole flowing fabric thing."

"You're getting better," I offer.

"I only tripped once during the run-through. That's not better, that's a miracle." He looks at me more seriously. "You okay though? You've been... intense lately. Like, scary good, but also just scary."

Mark shoots him a warning look.

"What? I'm just saying she's channeling some deep stuff. It's powerful." Tommy shrugs. "Just remember we're pretending to be gods and cursed princesses. At the end of the day, we take the costumes off."

"Unless you're Tommy," Mark adds. "Then the costume takes you off."

"One time! I got tangled ONE time—"

"Six times," Mark and I say in unison.

For a moment, just a moment, I feel normal. Like I'm just an actress with her cast, preparing for a show. Not a girl hollowed out by heartbreak.

"Thanks, guys," I say quietly.

Tommy grins. "Hey, if you can die dramatically eight times a week, I can figure out how to walk in a bedsheet. We're all fighting our battles."

He has no idea how true that is.

The rest of rehearsal continues. Tommy manages his part with only minor disasters, and Dwayne actually compliments his "comedic timing" when he accidentally drops his lightning bolt prop.

When I catch my reflection in the dressing room mirror during a costume change, I barely recognize myself. My face is gaunt, cheekbones sharp where they used to be soft. The star necklace sits against visible collarbones. I look like Seline—hollow, haunted, beautiful in a tragic way.

"Anna," Dwayne calls as we're wrapping up. "Hold back a minute?"

The cast filters out.

When it's just us, Dwayne sits on the edge of the stage.

"You're doing incredible work," he says carefully. "The best I've ever seen from you. But I need to ask—are you okay? You've lost weight. You look..." He searches for the word. "Hollowed out."

"I'm fine."

"You're becoming the character. That's brilliant for the performance, but don't lose yourself completely." His voice is gentle but firm. "This preview is huge, Anna. Career-making, potentially. But it's not worth destroying yourself."

"I'm eating. Sleeping. Functioning."

"Barely." He stands, brushes dust off his jeans. "Look, I don't know what's going on in your personal life, but..." He pauses. "The Meridian people called yesterday. They seemed very interested in you specifically. Asked if you'd be 'ready for the attention this could bring.' If you had people to support you through 'what's coming next.'"

My blood chills. "What did you tell them?"

"That you're a professional who'll deliver an incredible performance." He frowns. "But Anna, something about their interest in you has always felt... personal. Like this isn't just about the show. Be careful, okay?"

"I will," I lie.

"Good. Because whatever they want from you, make sure it's what you want too."

By the time I leave the theater, it's past six. The drive back to Daisy's takes forty minutes in traffic. My mind spins with Dwayne's warning.

Ready for the attention. Support through what's coming next.

What are they planning?

My phone sits in the cup holder, face down. I haven't checked it in hours. Can't bear to see another headline, another photo, another reminder of the life James is building without me.

When I pull up to Daisy's building, I sit in my car for a long moment, engine off, just breathing.

In my rearview mirror, I notice a black sedan parked three cars back. It was behind me on the highway too. Probably nothing. Probably paranoia.

But after Dwayne's warning, everything feels like a threat.

I think about Tommy's words: We take the costumes off.

But I can't take off this pain. It's not a costume. It's who I am now.

One week until the preview.

One week until I find out what Meridian Productions really wants.

And despite Tommy's disasters and Mark's concern and Dwayne's warnings, I feel more alone than ever.

Whatever's coming, I'll face it.

I have to.

Because the girl who loved James Reynolds is gone. All that's left is Seline. And Seline knows how to die beautifully.

That might be all I have left to offer.

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