Chapter Text
Beatrice stands outside Principal Vincent’s office, confused as to why she was summoned there. When the secretary called her name through the speakers, the class whooped and hollered, impressed by the fact that her name was called to the principal’s office. She knew that they knew she wasn’t really in trouble but the possibility that she could have been was already entertaining to them. To Beatrice, however, it was irritating. They were discussing factorials today to which she already perfectly understood. She had planned to spend the class’ time to map out the skeletal production of the school play of which she gets to direct. So whatever this was about, better be important.
When she opened the door and saw JC holding a cold pack in his eye, Mary with a busted lip, and Ava Silva with a cut in her brow, her frown deepened.
The sight of the three of them nursing bruises and cuts, Beatrice was accustomed to, their group is notorious for causing trouble since they were freshmen, what she wasn’t accustomed to, is her suddenly being called in their schemes. She made it a point to not associate herself with Ava Silva’s posse.
“Miss Young, please take a seat.” Principal Vincent gestured next to Mary, right across from Ava who was smirking at her.
Beatrice hesitated for a moment before dropping to the empty chair. JC could barely look at her, not out of shyness but because his eyelids had swollen so much he was looking through slits. She stole a glance at Ava who, Beatrice, could see, had her knuckles bloodied and bruised.
“I’m sure you’re curious as to the state of your peers, Miss Young.”
“Forgive me, Principal Vincent, but my interest only lies as to why you called me here.”
Ava gave a low whistle and mouthed “ Wow! ” at Mary, who in turn, snickered.
Beatrice bristled.
“Well, to cut things extremely short, because of these three’s latest schemes, I have told them that they’re getting expelled.”
About time , Beatrice thought.
“They have made numerous infractions and I have told them, repeatedly, that expulsion is something I can and will do, if driven there. They may have called my bluff.”
Ava was not smirking now. She had her cheek propped up on her fist, her foot was playing with the texture of the carpet – she looked so bored and not at all worried about the information Principal Vincent had relayed. Even just the thought of getting expelled sent shivers down Beatrice’s spine.
“I was dead set on my decision until Miss Silva here gave an interesting proposal.”
Beatrice and Ava locked eyes. It was only for a moment, before Ava broke it to look down.
“Which is?”
“I understand you have a hand on the school’s upcoming play. Ava has said that they can help you with it.” Beatrice straightened at that.
“Like volunteering!” JC said. He did something with his swollen face which Beatrice could guess was a smile.
“More like community service.” Mary mumbled next to her. She winced and brought a hand to her mouth, talking must have posed a challenge with her busted lip.
Beatrice blinked rapidly. “I–no. With all due respect, Principal Vincent, we already have the help we need.”
“No, you don’t.” Ava said, and she gave a look that dared Beatrice to challenge her. “Didn’t I see you putting up sign-up sheets? They looked very blank. You now have three people to boss around. Congratulations.”
Ava’s smile was dry.
Beatrice twisted her body away from Ava. “Principal Vincent, they won’t be of any help. They’ll be a burden.”
“Ow, ok. No due process whatsoever then.”
Beatrice ignored her. “Besides, Ms. Superion has the final say and I don’t think she’ll accept this.”
“She already did, Miss Young.”
Beatrice’s lips parted in shock.
“Ms. Superion said I should call you in to give you a heads up. These three will report to you directly and will follow your instructions.” He said that last bit looking pointedly at the three.
“Count on us, Principal V.” Ava gave a finger-gun at Principal Vincent. And to Beatrice, she gave a salute. “Boss.”
It was at that moment when Beatrice’s headache started and would remain throughout the rest of the day.
***
Beatrice promptly reported the unfortunate news to Camila when they met up at their designated table in the library. Today’s meeting was supposed to be narrowing their options of what play they will stage. But from the moment Beatrice sat down with a huff while chucking her bag at the table, it quickly devolved into something else.
“That’s great!” Camila’s smile was too bright and wide for Beatrice to think it was said ironically.
“Camila, it’s Ava and her gang of vigilantes.”
“The theater is for reformation, Beatrice. Maybe it will awaken something in them.”
Beatrice slid her fingers through her hair as she propped her head on her elbows. “Why did Ms. Superion approve of this?”
“Oh, it’ll be fun! New faces! New energy!”
Beatrice made a face. New energy, alright. Chaotic, anarchic. Her brain has been conjuring scenarios of how the play will go up in flames since she found out Mary, JC, and Ava will be a part of it.
Mary and JC alone would have worked. Ava was the hazard. She was their conductor of chaos. How she gets the other two to do her bidding, Beatrice could only surmise.
***
Beatrice finally caught Ms. Superion later in the day. She delivered her misgivings just as she rehearsed in her head, emphasizing the risk in taking the three in without the promise of reward, reminding her of their previous tussles inside and outside of school premises, their blatant disregard to rules and civility, “–they’re not the people we want to associate with this school’s play, Ms. Superion.” Beatrice ended.
Throughout Beatrice’s speech, Ms. Superion listened, her mouth in a thin line, hands folded in her front.
Silence settled. Ms. Superion gave a curt nod. “I understand, Miss Young but…” Ms. Superion’s eyes flitted around the hallways. When she spoke again, it was in a whisper. “Miss Silva’s parents have donated a lot to this school. It’s the reason she has skirted her past infractions with nothing but a slap on the wrist. Now, with her latest scuffle, her parents promised to entirely sponsor this year’s play. And that's on top of Mary, JC, and Ava’s participation. We could use the money and the help.”
Beatrice slowly shook her head. “It’s Ava Silva .”
“Yes, whose parents have a lot of money to throw and we have a program that’s terribly in need of it. Wouldn’t you want new cans of fresh paint? Brushes that haven’t solidified? Mics that work, perhaps?”
Beatrice let herself be swept up in the fantasy. She’s reminded of the foot-long crack on stage-right that she glares at whenever she passes, the leaking roof after a slight drizzle, a spotlight that barely reaches the stage.
Ms. Superion showed her hands as though she made her point. “Besides, if there’s anybody I trust to keep those three in line, you're certainly more than capable, Miss Young.”
***
To make matters worse, Beatrice had gym class today that overlaps with Ava’s. She had every intention to ignore her just like she normally does. She didn’t see the need to start a friendship all of a sudden.
Beatrice did her stretches near the bleachers. As she spread her legs apart and bent down to touch her toes, a shadow appeared on the hardwood floor. She looked up to find Ava staring down at her. She now had a band-aid on her brows, a spot of blood visible at its center.
Beatrice rolled her eyes and started to walk away.
“We need to talk.”
Beatrice turned on her heel. She only raised her brows in silent question.
Ava crossed her arms. “I’m not gonna go and do–” she gestured vaguely “–whatever that you guys do.”
“Act? Sing? Paint sets?” Beatrice offered.
“All of it.”
Beatrice restrained from looking too relieved. “Okay. Can’t say I’m sad to see you go. I’ll tell Ms. Superion.”
“No. You’ll still report to her and to Principal V that I’m showing up and doing the work.”
“But in reality, you would be?”
She shrugged. “Elsewhere. Somewhere I won’t die of boredom.”
Beatrice clasped her hands behind her. “I see. And I’ll do that because?”
Ava’s smile was faint and unkind. She took a step forward. “Because you don’t want to see what it would look like if you don’t.” Ava threatened.
If it was any other person, they would have trembled under Ava’s gaze. She can throw a mean punch, Beatrice witnessed it, the guy’s head got thrown back and almost hit the corner of a table. If not physical, Ava’s words always had teeth to them, “ Is that why you failed chemistry three times? Because looks are more important? ” she said to a girl who tried to suck up to her in the hopes of joining her group.
If it was any other person, Ava could easily control them. But this was Beatrice. Ms. Superion trusted her to keep Ava in line and Beatrice was not one to shirk responsibility, neither was she one who willingly gets stepped on.
Beatrice also took a step forward. She crossed her own arms and met Ava’s stare, mustering a scowl herself. “Care to paint a picture? You could do it after you paint the sets.”
Beatrice gave a sliver of a smile. She saw Ava clench her fist. There were several cuts on them from her previous bout earlier that day. Beatrice didn’t put it past her to use that same fist again to knock her unconscious even if it had fresh gashes. She was saved by an ear-splitting whistle and the start of gym class. It was only when she started to walk away from Ava did she blow out the biggest sigh of relief. Her heart thrashing around her ribcage.
***
They had a drama club meeting at the end of school. The agenda was to relay Beatrice and Camila’s brainstorming sessions and keep the ball rolling from there.
Ms. Superion thought that it would also be the perfect time to introduce the three additions to their crew. If they ever show up.
The drama club was sitting on stage, forming a circle, jotting down personal notes as the meeting progressed.
“Can we finally do a musical, Ms. Superion?” Camila pleaded, actually pleaded, with her hands clasped together in prayer.
Ms. Superion gave an amused smile. “Do you have suggestions, Camila?”
“Several! We could do Schwartz, or Sondheim, or something a bit more modern? ‘Waitress’ is really good, right, Beatrice?”
Beatrice was going to start her sales pitch of Waitress to Ms. Superion when the door opened and closed with a loud bang.
Ava arrived with Mary and JC standing behind her. Instead of going to the stage and joining their circle, they seated themselves near the door they just entered.
Beatrice gave a pointed look at Ms. Superion, an I-told-you-so look. Ms. Superion never got to see it as she immediately called them out, “Care for you and your group to join us, Miss Silva?
“We’re good here, Ms. S!” Ava shouted back.
JC put a thumbs-up in the air.
“We would really like your opinion on some matters.” Ms. Superion replied.
Beatrice could see that Mary had pulled out her phone while JC whipped out a fidget spinner.
Ava put her feet up on the seat across from her. “Whatever you guys decide is fine.”
“In that case, Ms. Superion.” Beatrice said, loud enough for Ava to hear. “We can delegate them the task of cleaning the whole auditorium. Maybe get them to carry heavy props. The stage curtain could use a wash.”
At that, Ava removed her feet from the chair and started walking towards them, prompting Mary and JC to follow.
Ava glared daggers at Beatrice. “You’re right, Ms. S. We would like our opinions to be heard.” Ava picked a spot and the people started to move sidewards to let the three in the circle. She positioned herself right across where Beatrice sat. Where the rest of the club members had their feet respectfully tucked on top of the other, Ava went ahead and splayed her feet forward. The soles of her shoes left grime and muck on the stage floor.
“Wonderful, Miss Silva. We were just discussing what play or musical we’re going to perform.”
“Before you rudely interrupted.” Beatrice said.
Ava rolled her eyes at her. To Ms. Superion, she said, “Have you decided?”
“We were on the topic of musicals.” Camila, who sat next to Beatrice, chimed in. “Hi, I’m Camila.”
Ava gave her a brief smile and a nod of acknowledgement. It was the first time Beatrice has ever seen Ava give a smile that wasn’t malicious.
Ms. Superion clapped once. “Ah! Yes, let’s start with that. Everyone, this is Mary, JC, and Ava. They will be joining us for this year’s production.” Ms. Superion went around the circle introducing the drama club members, “–and you met Camila, she’s our script supervisor.”
“I could also be music conductor, Ms. Superion, if we’re doing a musical.”
“We’ll get there, Camila. And you’ve met Beatrice, she’s our stage director.”
“Director?” Ava scoffed. “Shouldn’t that be your position, Ms. S? Director is a complicated job. Wouldn’t want a student fucking it up.”
A retort caught in Beatrice’s throat.
“Beatrice has co-directed with me in previous plays and I can assure you that she is very competent to handle the job.”
Ava leaned back on her hands. “We’ll see about that.” The hint of insurgency in Ava’s tone made Beatrice find her voice. “That would also mean that I get to handle auditions.”
“Good for you.” Ava deadpans.
“There are people that are so obviously untalented that they’re relegated to stagehand. A lot of sets need to be built and painted.”
“Hear that, JC? Mary? You get to be carpenters.”
“You, too, it would seem.”
“Are you saying I’m untalented?”
“No, but we have no use for the talents you do have. We only throw fake punches here and even that needs a serious bit of acting.”
“To which you can’t do if you’ve been made a director.”
“Clearly, you know next to nothing if you think a director can’t also be an actor.”
“I do know that. I just don’t believe that you can do both, let alone, even one of those.”
Ms. Superion clapped her hands together. “Okay! Let’s take five. Miss Young, a word.”
Ava gave an infuriating smirk.
Camila got up and bounded over to Ava’s group.
Ms. Superion gave Beatrice a stern look. “What was that?”
“I’m sorry, Ms. Superion, she’s just–”
“It would be wise to avoid verbally sparring with the daughter of our sole benefactors.” She scolded in a whisper.
Beatrice and Ms. Superion agreed that they should keep the fact of Ava’s parents funding the play to themselves to not give rise to prejudices. Something Beatrice thought was pointless as the whole school was already aware how Ava frequently buys her way out of trouble.
“Ms. Superion, you saw how she is. She’s rowdy and thinks she’s above it all.”
“It’s not good for the director to already show bias against one of the potential actors.”
Beatrice’s eyes narrowed. “Ms. Superion, you can’t seriously be suggesting that–”
“You need to at least let her audition before you conclude she’s ‘untalented’, as you so eloquently put it, Miss Young.”
“Ms. S?” Ava had her hand up in the air.
“Yes, Miss Silva?”
“I’m backing up Camila with her musical schtick.” Next to her, Camila was bouncing excitedly. “Does anybody have something to say to that?” Ava directed the question to the rest of the club members.
Beatrice couldn’t decide if they really had nothing to say or were all afraid to say it. When they remained silent, Ava’s eyes landed on Beatrice. A brow shooting upward, daring Beatrice to say something.
“I think that’s a great idea, Ms. Superion. Since it came from Camila, after all.”
Ava set her jaw.
Beatrice glared. “In fact, if we’re doing musicals, we should find out who can sing. Care to take the lead, Ava?”
Mary and JC exchanged looks.
Ms. Superion cleared her throat. “We should hold auditions on a separate day, Miss Young. To give the students time to prepare.”
Ava didn't remove her eyes from Beatrice. “That’s okay, Ms. S. I aim to please our director." Beatrice felt an odd swoop in her stomach.
Everybody started to exit the stage, leaving Ava all alone. Beatrice almost felt sorry for her. She considered if she may have stepped too far and unconsciously abused her position as director, all in the name of embarrassing Ava Silva.
“Do you have any accompaniment in this basement or are we doing acapella?” Ava flashed a smile.
“You could play the piano, Beatrice.” Camila suggested. Beatrice thought Ava was going to give a backhanded compliment at that but Ava simply dropped her gaze as she made her way center stage.
Beatrice went to the piano that sat at the side of the stage. Everybody made to sit down, including Mary and JC who were whispering to each other, snickering.
There was that pang of guilt again. Are these Ava’s so-called friends? They whipped their phones out and started filming what was going to be a disastrous audition.
Beatrice was thinking of ways to stop it when Ava whispered, “Think you can keep up? Or are you so used to your tyrannical rule you can’t even follow somebody else's lead?”
An affronted noise escaped Beatrice’s lips before she could stop it. Let her embarrass herself , Beatrice thought.
She waited for Ava’s cue. She waited for a screech and a stinging shrill to the ears of what was supposed to be regarded as Ava Silva attempting to sing. But that expectation was never realized. Because what Beatrice heard was a sweet lilt that bounced effortlessly around that poorly-padded auditorium. There was no doubt that Ava Silva knew how to sing.
I push up my glasses
As you go about frothing the cream
And I'm sweating from all of the steam
As it simmers me into a dream
Ava stole a glance at Beatrice.
She jolted, realizing she had to match Ava’s key. She quickly found it and Ava continued filling the space with a rich, melodic tune that no doubt showed the fullness and the strength of her voice.
I push up my glasses
So I might catch the gleam of your eyes
JC hollered and Mary pumped a fist in the air. Ava gave them a smile but her voice never shook, nor faltered.
Hoping one day, you would finally say that you want me
Over some stupid boy
Ava’s demeanor changes when she sings. Her edges dissipate, her face softens, as though she had no walls that she regularly puts up. There was a level of vulnerability that Beatrice couldn’t believe Ava was even capable of.
I push up my glasses
As you twirl the milk in a heart swirl
I remember that I'm still a girl
And I wish that my heart would unwirl
'Cause I know I'll never be your type
When Ava took a bow, the drama club erupted in applause. The loudest came from Ms. Superion who gave her a standing ovation. “Brava, Miss Silva! Oh, well done!”
Ava gave a knowing shrug.
“I think we can agree that she can get a part, Miss Young?”
Beatrice could only give an imperceptible nod. She intentionally avoided Ava’s eyes. She couldn’t handle the smugness that Ava was surely showing, it was so strong it radiated off of her and bounced on the walls.
“Okay. Since we’re settled on a musical. We can now decide on what musical.”
“Actually, Ms. S., I also agree with Camila’s choice.”
“Waitress.” Beatrice said.
“Wrong again, director.” Ava’s tone was clipped. Beatrice gave a questioning look at Camila who mouthed something Beatrice couldn’t decipher.
“We want La La Land.” Ava supplied.
“La La Land?” Beatrice repeated, louder than she intended.
“Problem?”
“Big problem. Ms. Superion, La La Land is a movie musical we’d have to write a separate script to adapt it to stage. I mean–the opening number is already a nightmare! Cars, hoola hoops, acrobats, somebody needs to jump on a skateboard, ride a bicycle on top of a –”
“Too much for you to handle, Young?”
“We have limits, Silva.”
“In terms of?”
“Budget.”
“I have that taken care of.”
There was an impressive ooh that came from the drama club members.
Taking Ava’s cue, Ms. Superion said, “Well, cat’s out of the bag! Everyone, I’m very happy to announce that Ava Silva’s family has taken an interest in our little club and will sponsor our production of this year’s La La Land.”
They erupted in cheers and applause. Ava gave a dismissive wave of her hand, “No problem at all!” Her smile was so wide, it was brighter than the working lights in this auditorium.
Ava made her way to Beatrice who still sat at the piano. Without breaking her politician smile to the club members, Ava said through gritted teeth, “This is me painting the picture you wanted. I’ll make your life a living hell here, Young.”