Kellen Blackbirn blinked out across the split-level-three-bed-two-and-a-half-bath darkness towards the front door. The knocking that had woken him up had stopped, leaving a bright red imprint in his mind. Red like her nails, he thought as he…

“What?”

I opened my eyes to see Lizzy crouching over me and realized I’d been talking to myself again.

“Nothing.”

Lizzy laughed and lay back down. “Sounded like you were practicing a monologue.”

We were sitting together on the stage, lying on our backs, our heads hanging off the edge, staring at the rows upon rows of seats hanging from the ceiling. Most everyone was gone, having driven home or been picked up by their parents. Mrs. Yates, the theatre director, chatted discreetly with the female leads. Every few moments, one of them would chuckle nervously; the sound drifted in from the greenroom and washed up over the greenbacked chairs in the auditorium.

Lizzy was tapping at her lip—a nervous habit. Opening night for the musical was the next day.

I was in my own little world.

…as he raked his hand through his hair. It was warm outside at this time of year,

but inside, I felt like I could almost see my breath. It was an absurd thought, but I blew air out anyway. I half expected a pillar of steam to sprout from my mouth.

Here I was, in my home, my haven, my sanctuary, preparing myself for the largest show of my lifetime to date the best way I knew how: scribbling away in my mind, filling the empty corners that might be allowed to clutter up with jittery nerves with storylines and dialogue instead. Kellen Blackbirn joined Timber Crawford joined The French Tourist joined Grey and Dylan, the twins…

but he curled up in his heavy comforter and listened for the knock to come again. Had she changed her mind? What was she thinking?

“That you’re seriously freaking me out.” Lizzy smiled though. “Really, what are you doing? Writing another play?”

I smiled,

She had to have changed her mind, Kellen thought. That’s the only possible explanation... His mind stopped short. The thunder struck again. It was just the thunder, he thought.

and said, “Something like that.” Lizzy rolled her eyes—goodnaturedly—and lay back down.

“Picture it,” she said. “It’ll be filled.”

People hanging from the ceiling,

Rain shushed against the window and Kellen squeezed his eyes shut.

their applause sounding like heavy rain,

Just the rain.

punctuated by a roar as their seats thunder closed; as they stand as one, cheering at something they’ve never seen before and will never see again.

A roll of thunder splits against the door.

Something I was a part of.

Kellen Blackbirn blinked once more through the darkness, closed his eyes again, and lay down.

Something I helped make.

It would be a long night.

“Filled…” I whisper.