one thing's universal, life's no dress rehearsal

[stagemanagers]

[Prom night! The greatest night of your young lives if you watch any Western high school media from the past 60 years. The looks, the music, the copious amounts of fancy snacks, the sore feet from dancing heels and then spending the rest of the night in bare feet- it’s all part of the bigger package.

The courtyard and the roof have both been decked out in a special way for tonight, despite no one really seeing Hester or anyone/anything else decorating. There are round tables set-up in both places, covered in yellow-gold tablecloths. Some of them have platters of snacks laid out on them, one has a large punch bowl that never seems to empty no matter how many drinks are taken from it.

On the roof there’s an extra table with pencils, small slips of paper, a box wrapped in gold wrapping paper and a notecard labeled Song Requests. Just write a song, pop it in the box and within a few minutes it starts playing! Weird, there doesn’t seem to be a sound system anywhere...

Red paper lanterns have been strung around the outline of the roof and between stakes in the courtyard, granting soft romantic light for a night to remember. Put on your best costume shop formal wear, get ready to lose your shoes after an hour and sneak in liquor even though most of you are of age.

After all…tonight belongs to you.]

Comments

[inaclearing]

...sorry. I'm sorry.

[There's a sigh, of breath and of moving cloth.]

I'm sure it's just stress. I'll probably forget all about this in the morning. [...] You look nice, Pere.

[comeandfindme]

No!

[ She doesn't mean for it to just...come out. It's quick, desperate. But she still doesn't want him to leave. She still turns about trying...trying to find him. It's a hallucination. He's here. You should stop. Please just stay with me. The dueling thoughts are at war. ]

Don't... Don't sound like you're about to leave. Don't just...say that. [ No one deserves to be— ] ...Don't forget me.

[ Peregrine Wells has spent almost six weeks here. Tonight, she's let herself have a nice time. But she's never stopped hurting. Just like with Jacob, every bit of pain digs another hole into her. She can cover and hide her scars for only so long. Because week after week of heartache and loss, stress and threats— it's broken her down.

If this isn't real, then she has nothing to lose. If it is? ]

Come and find me. Please.

[ Then she has this. At least she has this. ]

[inaclearing]

[There's a moment of shocked silence. Of course, impossible as it is to see him, it might simply be silence. But Peregrine knows Brett well; she knows how he might respond. When he does so properly, it's in a low voice:]

She needs us now out there...

[And this time we will find her.

It would be a nice thing to be able to say. But if she's out there somewhere, still needing them, then she's been waiting for over a month now. No one has found her. This is...confusing, muddled, and most likely there's nothing real about it. It would be easier to detach, to treat it like nothing more than a story to observe. But it also feels like the closest he's come.]

Please. Please, just - tell me how to find you. I've been trying, but I don't know how. Pere -

[He never trained with Howl. He was a part of the search party that found her once, but that was only because the kids brought him along. Brett can't do much of anything - except to sense, in a vague way not much suited for a podcaster from the city, that a storm is rolling in.]

Pere, the...the weather's gonna change. Stay put tonight, make sure you've got everything you need. [He doesn't quite know why he says that. Maybe it's just the fear that she might be cold.]

[comeandfindme]

[ She thinks...that he's gone. That delusion or miracle, she's scared him away. Peregrine wraps her arms around herself, as a way of comfort. But then—

Relief floods her, just as uncertainty does as well. How can she tell him if she doesn't know herself? ] I don't know. I don't— Look...this place is like in a void, and nothing's what it looks like, I— I think it's really a...an abandoned junkyard. It's not Minnesota, but the- the trees, the sky, nothing's right—

[ For the first time since she arrived at the prom, she shivers, audibly. She's cold. But she's also scared.

The weather's changing. Orpheus said that too. He'd meant it to be positive. She knows, from experience, Brett means the opposite. ]

...I'll...okay. I'll stay put. [ Thursdays, they...tend to be dangerous, don't they? Peregrine quietly makes a note to make sure wherever she sleeps tonight, she has her emergency supplies with her. Always be prepared. ] It's okay. I'm... I'm not alone.

[inaclearing]

[There's a huff of breath that entirely falls short of being a laugh, though it sounds somewhat relieved. Mostly on the edge of tears, but somewhat relieved!]

Good. That's good. This whole time, all I kept thinking was - "We left her alone, alone, alone." I hope that part's true. [...] I know this sounds crazy, but -

[As he speaks, the sound of his voice seems to be fading. It doesn't sound like he's leaving; there's no footsteps, and at first he keeps on speaking as if he's unaware. It's more like when you begin to drive away from your hometown, and your favorite radio station starts to filter away into white noise.]

Peregrine? Peregrine - no, wait -

[For just a second, it feels as if someone has tried to catch at your arm. Then there's a sound like a sharp intake of breath, abruptly cut off. Brett will not speak again.]

[comeandfindme]

[ The hallucinations fade in and out. They come and go, the voices, the sights. But, usually they don't...protest like that. Peregrine feels a hand on her elbow and tries to grab it.

She touches nothing. ]

Brett? [ ... ] Brett...?

[ She stays standing in that spot for awhile, waiting to see if he'll return. It feels foolish, but important.

It's not until later that she'll start to examine just how important. ]