Chapter Text
“Alright everyone! Nice job! Take ten, then once more from the top!” the director, Joel, shouted.
“Thank you, ten!” came the chorus from stage. Nearly the whole cast sounded worn-out and exhausted (a heavy contrast to them just a minute before, during the run), but not Katherine Plumber. Her voice rang out over the rest, and if you listened only to her, you couldn’t tell that it was nearly ten at night on a Tuesday, that she’d been working for five hours after a full day of school, and that she was only 17 rather than a seasoned professional.
Kath had loved theater her whole life. When she was five years old, she all but told her father to sign her up for the Tiny Tots Theater program at the local community center, and ever since that class, she’s been hooked.
She’d stuck with it all through middle and high school, and now, fall of her senior year, she had finally made it. An actual part in an actual show. Kath thought she’d probably spontaneously combust because she was so excited.
None of her excitement had worn off over the month and a half of rehearsals, to the shock and slight amusement of her fellow cast members. And even now, the night before their first preview, she was still “as bright-eyed and bushy-tailed as can be,” according to her friend and co-actor Jack. He was just a few years older than her, and had quickly become one of her best friends, on and off stage.
“Hey, Plumber!” That was him now.
“What, Kelly?” She shouted back, although there was no reason for either of them to be shouting in the first place.
Jack sauntered over to her and slung an arm around her shoulders. “You ready for previews? I heard we got some big press comin’ to cover us!” On the words big press, Jack’s hands spread out in the air as if envisioning a glittering marquee in front of their faces.
Kath laughed a little at his antics. “Yeah, I think I’m good, Jack. What about you, huh? Can’t have our leading heartthrob be getting cold feet opening night, right?” She teased.
“Ha-ha, Plumber. No, but seriously: if you need anythin’, I’m always here for you, ‘kay?” Jack said, with all seriousness.
“Alright. Thank you.”
“No problem. Now go take your break, starcatcher!” He grinned, using a nickname that had been coined at the beginning of their friendship and came from their roles in the show.
“Just an apprentice!” She responded, as was their custom, mimicking their lines once again, before heading off to find her phone and waterbottle.
~
“Hey, Sarah, you good to cover that new show? We’ve got a kid in it, and Medda said we should send someone to write about it for the arts section, ‘cause we’ve got a connection and stuff, you know?” Crutchie asked, standing a few feet away from Sarah’s desk.
“Yeah, sure,” Sarah replied distractedly, trying to finish reading the last paragraph of the article she was editing. “Who did you say was in it?”
“I didn’t. It’s Katherine. Plumber? Do you know her?”
“Know of. She was in last year’s show here, right?” Sarah looked up. “Oh, hi, by the way.”
Crutchie smiled. “Hi to you, too. Yeah, that’s her. She’s in that new show about Peter Pan downtown, and it opens for previews tomorrow night. Medda got us two tickets, and I thought you could go and bring someone with you.”
“Oh, I think Jack’s in that. You know, Dave’s boyfriend? Ooh, maybe I’ll bring David. Thanks, Crutchie, and tell that to Medda, too.” Sarah finished making the last edit on that freshman’s article. She slammed her laptop shut in celebration before opening it again and closing it gently.
“No problem. Have a nice night, and say hi to Les for me!”
“Absolutely; he’ll love that. Get home safe,” Sarah said as she stood up from her seat and headed out the door, already thinking of the next night.
See, Sarah had loved theater since she was old enough to sit still in a seat by herself. Her and her family would have regular nights out at the local children’s theater, and she adored it so much that she begged and begged her mom to sign her up for the Tiny Tots theater program at the local community center. She did a few years of classes, but combined money problems, insecurities, and other emerging interests led her away from acting.
Instead, she turned to writing. At 17, Sarah Jacobs was the editor-in-chief of her school’s newspaper, and loved it. The teacher, Ms. Larkin, although she insisted her students call her Medda, was an incredible writer and mentor, and understood Sarah’s lingering passion for the performing arts, because she used to be a dancer.
Because of this, Medda let Sarah do all the writing she wanted for the arts section of the paper, and did her best to let her go to as many shows as possible. Sarah was eternally grateful.
“Hi, Ima,” Sarah kissed her mother on the cheek. “Is Davey home?”
“Yes, he’s upstairs. Family dinner tonight; Aba will be home by 7,” Mrs. Jacobs answered.
“Ok.” Sarah kicked off her shoes and started up the stairs. “Love you!” She called over her shoulder.
She knocked twice on her older brother’s door before letting herself in. “Hey, Dave, you know your boyfriend?”
“Yeah.” David didn’t look up from his computer.
“You know how he’s in a show right now?”
“Yeah.”
“A show that opens tomorrow and you don’t have any current plans to go see?”
“Yeah, Sarah! What’s your point?”
“I got two free tickets, wanna come?”
David looked up. “Wait, really?”
“Yes, really, dork. You free tomorrow at seven?”
“Yes! Thanks, Sarah! I owe you.”
“You’re not even going to ask how I got the tickets?” Sarah pouted.
“Fine, fine. How did you get the tickets?” Davey asked with an overly-fake voice as he pulled out his phone, likely to text Jack.
“Medda’s sending me, because Katherine Plumber’s in it.”
“Cool. Don’t you have stuff to do?” David asked, clearly as an attempt to get her out of his space.
“Ugh, fine.” Sarah flicked her brother’s head and left. “Love you.” She walked across the hall to her room, immediately opened her computer to Instagram, and searched “katherine plumber.”