The place was filling up; it wasn’t even seven yet. And, yeah, Reggie knew it was supposed to start at seven-thirty, but Jesus, did they have to make a poor boy so nervous, showing up this early?

Closing the stage door carefully, hoping he didn’t make a sound, he turned to survey the bustling hoard of teenagers, whose names were lost to him the second he heard them. He shook his head to himself, then reached behind to touch the back of his neck. His hair was slicked back into a neat tuft, something like a rabbit tail, and his chains were missing. It felt awkward. Alien. And this crisp, starched shirt… Stiff. Uncomfortable. It only served to unnerve him more.

A boy, slight with wheat-colored hair, stood about eight feet away, facing the door. He wore a navy blue blazer and tie; some school crest emblazoned onto the pocket. He looked freaked. Like he wanted to make a break for it. Reggie smirked to himself. White Boy’s got stage fright… This is gonna be good…

Placing a neat smile on his lips, he edged closer to the lanky figure. “Yo, Blondie,” He called, tuning his voice to a cheery nature. The guy turned around halfway, spotted Reggie, and gave him an innocently bewildered smile.

“Me?” He asked, before stepping forward almost mechanically.

“Yeah, I’m talkin’ to you.” His smile grew bright. The boy seemed even more confused. “You seem kind of nervous.”

“Yeah…” He ducked his head, looked a little ashamed. “Never done this kind of thing before…”

“Ah, don’t worry about it.” Clapping a hand on the blonde boy’s shoulder, he gave him a reassuring smile, and laughed inside as the guy seemed to go stiff as a strip of plywood. “You’ll only be up there a couple minutes, and ya just have to stand there. Then, you just go to the table your parents got for ya and sit.”

“Yeah…” He laughed nervously. “It’s not like I’m gonna win or anything…”

Reggie raised an eyebrow to himself as the guy ran a hand through his hair and looked to his feet. Anxious little fucker… Grinning brightly, he crossed his arms over his chest and waited for him to look up. “So, who are you anyway?”

“Walter. Reilly. Walter Reilly.” He looked like he could barely pronounce his own name.

Blinking with all the acting skills he had, he feigned a look of complete shock. “You’re Walter? Damn, Dude, I read your bio. You’re a fuckin’ shoe-in!”

Having never heard of a Walter Reilly in his whole life, he felt this was an Oscar-Winning performance. Inferring from the uniform, he took it further.

“All that shit you did with your school, man, you made me feel fuckin’ small. Real small.” Shaking his head, as if in self-pity, he sighed and looked up at his face. Walter was white as a ghost.

“You’re not serious…?” It was almost a plea, but not quite. Shaking his head, Reggie grinned.

Yeah, he knew he was being cruel. If he pressed much more, Walter would be out the back exit and down the street before ceremonies began. Pretty funny to watch, but he had a feeling the guy’s family would not be pleased. Or the so-called ‘Master of Ceremonies’, who had left them backstage with nothing but a pep-talk. ‘Smile! The Audience is there For You!’

“Reggie Perez.” He reached out a hand and took Walter’s, pumping it like a water pump. Walter’s hand was sweaty and limp. “Pittsburgh. Where’re ya from?”

“Philadelphia, actually.” They both blinked at the distance. This was a nation-wide competition. The odds two people from the same state should meet seemed very slim.

“Cool,” Reggie let go of his hand and wiped his own on his slacks discreetly. “So, when’s this thing supposed-”

“Awe, Shit!” A loud Brooklyn accent broke the quiet hum of the teenage crowd, and both Walter and Reggie turned. A boy in a brown corduroy suit and green bowtie was cursing loudly by the snack table. He had gotten orange soda on his white dress shirt.

“You okay, man?” Reggie called, stepping away for a moment to walk over. Walter followed.

“Shit, man! This is my fuckin’ good shirt!” The stain was huge, covering an expanse of white, dying it the color of sunset. Reggie would’ve laughed if the guy didn’t seem so panicked. He looked up at Walter, who already seemed to have an idea.

--

Bathroom… He grabbed the rusty-haired boy by the shoulders and pushed him towards the men’s room down the hall. The guy was only confused for a moment, before wrapping his mind around the idea and racing toward the door. Walter saw Reggie following them out of the corner of his eye, and quickened his pace. The dark-haired boy made him nervous.

The guy in brown practically kicked the restroom door open, dashing toward the sink. Walter followed in suit, Reggie close behind. The fluorescent light made them all look gaunt and pale. Walter refused to look in the mirror.

The guy reached for the faucet, and both Reggie and Walter pulled the shirt out from his trousers. They immediately pulled the shirt up, flushing the stain under the faucet. The color, still wet and sticky, faded to white under the running water. As soon as it was gone, the russet-haired boy slammed the button on the hand dryer, and began to ring out the water. Walter watched in fascination.

The sudden crisis had done nothing to quell his nerves. In fact, they had escalated. He could feel his pulse thrumming against the veins in his neck and wrists. It made him feel sick. Gulping down a breath of semi-fresh air, he turned to Reggie. He remembered a little of his bio from the program they’d gotten earlier. Spanish by descent, second generation American. Something about him made him a little edgy.

“Ladies and Gentlemen, thank you for coming to this important event…”

“Shit!” Thankfully, the redhead took his attention from the other boy, to the time-crunch ahead.

“Shake it out, man!” Reggie hissed, grabbing a handful of wet shirt, and shaking it out under the dryer.

“Tonight, we have gathered twenty extraordinary teenagers, in an effort to select three…”

“Just stuff it back in, quick, quick!” The boy in corduroy bunched up the still-damp shirt and stuffed it back into his pants, pulling them up to hide the watermark. Walter’s hands moved fast, buttoning the guy’s blazer and straightening the tie. Reggie was already pushing them out the door.

“Three talented, driven, amazing teens, who will work for our organization, to build the dreams of a nation…”

They are bolting out of the bathroom now, running past the set director, moving to line-up positions. His heart nearly burst from his chest, and his lungs felt compressed and small. He was hyperventilating, he was sure of it. All those people out there were going to stare at him. What if he fell? Passed out? Jesus, he could barely stand as it was.

A hand came down hard on his shoulder, sending a thundering shock down his spine. He whipped around to spot Reggie heading for his spot, looking over his shoulder with a roguish smirk on his face. ‘Gotcha…’ For a fleeting second, stage-fright felt hilarious. And the redheaded boy looked relieved. And Reggie Perez didn't make him feel so uneasy.

Then Reggie wasn’t looking at him anymore. And the redheadwas fidgetingwith his tie. And the curtain rose.

Yeah, so I have a new story idea. What the Hell, maybe it won't even pan out. Hey, don't get angry, just because I haven't updayed anything else in a long, long time. I kind of like this thusfar. Not as good as it could be, but hey. This is just the beginning.

Don't expect this to be updated anytime this weekend. Maybe sometime within the next week, if school doesn't swallow me up.

Dedications go out to Butler, Skylark, and Maderr, because I feel lucky to even know them online. Wonderful people as they are.