Song 34

Maersen stared intensely at the TV as Meloria continued to read lines with her co-star. A play? He thought, smiling as Meloria delivered the lines perfectly. She is a natural performer, so I suppose this makes sense.

Behind him, Tampsen sat, scrolling through some of the profiles of the people Meloria had been interacting with. Everything seemed to be going a bit too well for Meloria recently, and he couldn’t help but investigate, even going as far as to look into the history and birth of each character. If there was a character out of place, the place it would show is their ‘world entrance date’. For most, this would be a date of birth; for others, it could be a date of reincarnation. Not every person who came through their system was reborn; some were plucked from their world and inserted into another. It would vary depending on the observer and their approach to each case.

Tampsen used his finger to swipe up and down, left and right against each profile. Firstly, there was Tenma; indeed, he was a valid resident of Reybu. His grandfather, on the other hand, was a reincarnation from Japan, a theme park engineer who had been placed into the world by his observer. So Tenma checked out. Then there were Kendra and Fischer; they, too, were completely normal, actual residents who had no connections to reincarnations, just a lovely couple who ran a mountain. Now there was Aggie, who was quirky, but nothing unusual. Everyone Meloria came into contact with was completely normal. Even the people from the jazz band and the old lady with the dog on the beach had no suspicions attached to them. “Everyone is completely normal,” he muttered quietly, not to get Maersen’s attention. He hadn’t raised any of this to Maersen in case he wanted to try and interfere because, to him, no one can come between Meloria and her dreams. “I don’t get it. Nothing should ever go this perfectly.”

“What did you say?” Mearsen called to him, his eyes never leaving the screen.

“Nothing,” Tampsen mumbled a bit louder, going back to the main menu to look at the list of people who were currently in or around Meloria’s current location.

“Hey, Tampsen,” Maersen called out again. “Why don’t you come watch? Meloria is getting really good at line delivery now.”

“You enjoy, buddy,” Tampson chuckled, swiping his finger down to load another set of profiles. It felt like he was missing something, but he couldn’t work out what or who it was. Groaning, he moved between the pages again, waiting for something to click. When he hit the end of the last page again, that’s when it hit him. It wasn’t about what he was missing; it was about who was missing.

Back at the dress rehearsal, there was just one more week until the curtain rose, and there were still tickets to sell; half of the seats were currently empty. Meloria had written some letters, sending tickets to Lucan, Kendra, Fischer, her parents, and brothers, as well as Jonny. That would fill a row up at least, if they managed to come, but it wasn’t enough. As she sat on the side, watching her fellow cast members rehearse their scene, her brain was ticking over with ideas that might attract more attention.

There was a press article in the local paper that she had already arranged. A radio interview for Aggie was to be recorded tomorrow afternoon, which should hopefully drive some interest. But what else could be done at this late stage?

“Meloria,” Aggie called over. Noticing Meloria simply sitting there, her gaze looking into space, Aggie walked over, leaning down and waving a hand in front of her face. “Meloria, are you okay?”

Shaking her head, Meloria laughed nervously. “Sorry, I was just thinking about how to sell some more tickets,” she sighed, pulling her knees up to her chest.

“Yeah,” Aggie nodded, sitting beside her, watching as everyone continued. “I get it, I’ve done all this in such a short amount of time.”

“Why is it happening so quickly?” Meloria questioned, straightening her legs. “Three weeks to promote, rehearse, and actually put it all on.”

Aggie frowned, wiggling her feet. “It was the only slot the theatre was willing to give me,” she explained, sounding defeated. “Everyone here is a person I met back at school in the drama class, or people who saw my pathetic flyers wanting to audition, and as it’s their first acting job, are willing to do it in exchange for food and lodging.”

“Well, I guess that helps with the budgeting,” Meloria chuckled. “But it also makes sense why it’s been so rushed.”

“I sent my parents some tickets too,” Aggie smiled sadly. “If they’ll even think about making it to the play.”

“Why wouldn’t they?” Meloria asked, Aggie's tone making her feel sad. The way she spoke was as if her parents weren’t supporting her dreams.

“They think playwriting is a waste of time,” Aggie scoffed, kicking her leg as if kicking the sentence away from her. “This is my only chance to prove to them that this is where I belong.” Aggie opened her arms, gesturing to everything around her. These lights, the costumes, the smell of wet paint on the newly constructed backdrops. All of it was where she felt like she belonged. “I want to keep writing plays, having wonderful people like you act out the words I write. Bringing my stories to life.”

Meloria wrapped her arm around Aggie, holding her tightly. “I made you a pinkie promise that we’re going to make this play a success,” Meloria winked, holding up her pinkie. “And I always keep my promises.”

Aggie couldn’t help but laugh through tears, and she hugged Meloria tightly, believing every word she was saying. Though Meloria wanted to make the play a success as much as possible, Aggie wanted it to be a success for Meloria, to show Reybu who Meloria was and help her achieve her dream of being this country’s idol. “That’s it,” Aggie exclaimed, pushing Meloria back by her shoulders. “Meloria, will you perform a song in the play?”

“A song?” Meloria repeated, her lips twitching up into a grin. “Yes, that’s it, but,” Meloria moved Aggie’s hands from her shoulders, squeezing them. “We’ll write the song together, and in the interview, you can talk about how you’ve written a song for the wondering idol.”

“Wondering, idol?” Aggie left. “Is that what you are now?”

“The painter called me a few times,” Meloria laughed, scratching the back of her head. “Apparently, that’s what some people call me, so why not use it as a selling point?”

Aggie nodded, her glasses shining with hope. “Let’s do it!”