The Backstagers and the Final Blackout

by Andy Mientus

  Dionysus cocked his head to the side and said, “My flock?” with a voice that sounded like a thousand voices. “You don’t seem much like a flock to me. A flock doesn’t command the shepherd. A flock doesn’t attempt to chain the shepherd to the ground.” He gestured to the limp Blake McQueen, who had fainted in his terror, still bound by each wrist.

  Madam Thiasos swallowed hard. She knew she’d made a terrible mistake.

  “But more than anything, where are your horns? A flock ought to have horns,” Dionysus said with a smile.

  “Wh-what?”

  “Let me help,” Dionysus said, and with a sweep of his hand, Madam Thiasos sprouted horns, then hooves, then fur, and in moments had transformed completely into a black goat. She opened her mouth to scream, but instead, a piercing bleat rang out over the cliffside.

  One of the Thiasos members looked up and wailed at the sight of what their leader had become. A stampede began, as the entire crowd panicked and tried desperately to escape the ledge by climbing up the single narrow staircase that led to safety.

  Dionysus waved his hand again and now, more than a hundred goats of various colorings scrambled up the cliffside. They passed the hiding Backstagers in a herd and galloped off through the lawn of Thiasos headquarters toward the woods beyond the mansion.

  Dionysus laughed a thunderous laugh.

  The Backstagers cowered behind the rocks at the top of the cliff.

  Aziz stood from his hiding spot and began to descend the staircase.

  CHAPTER 25

  “What’s this? Another dares approach me?” Dionysus roared at Aziz, who, though tall for his age, looked minuscule as he descended the stairs toward the towering deity.

  “I . . . I actually want to speak to the other person in that body you stole,” Aziz said.

  Dionysus snorted in disbelief.

  “Say that again, boy.”

  “I said I’m not talking to you, I’m talking to my best friend, Sasha. Sasha, buddy, I know you’re still in there. And I need you to fight and take your body back!”

  Up on the cliff, the others watched in disbelief.

  “What is he doing?!” Hunter hissed. “He’s going to get himself turned into livestock. Or worse!”

  “Just listen to my voice and come back to me,” Aziz said. “I’m not leaving here without you, buddy!”

  Dionysus rolled his eyes and said, “Enough of this,” as he raised his hand. Aziz cowered and braced himself for whatever his fate would be.

  But then Dionysus’s hand went limp, and his fingers curled strangely, as if he were suddenly paralyzed. He looked to the hand, stunned, and tried to move it, but it hung there as if it were held in place by an invisible shackle.

  “Oh my gosh,” Jory said from his perch. “It’s working.”

  Aziz looked at Dionysus’s hand, amazed, and continued.

  “I can’t imagine school without you, Sasha. Heck, I can’t imagine life without you. You know I love all the Backstagers, but we go back to even before our time as Backstagers. Every good memory I have, I share with you. All those opening nights, all those Gamestation marathons. That time I got the runs during Les Terribles tech and you covered for me.”

  Dionysus laughed, but it was Sasha’s voice.

  “I can’t imagine making more memories without you. I won’t do it!”

  “I won’t do it, either,” Jory said. He’d descended the stairs and now stood shoulder to shoulder with Aziz. “I know I’ve only been with the Backstagers for a year, but already I love you like a brother.”

  “We all love you, Sash,” Beckett said, joining them. “Plus, I really don’t wanna have to train another kid to take over the light board, so do me a solid, please, and come back to us.”

  Dionysus began to sway as if feeling faint. The rest of the Backstagers raced down the stairs.

  “Come on, Sasha, you beat that weird rash-dragon you got that one time, and you can beat this!” Hunter said.

  “I sense great power in you,” Reo said. “Banish this spirit back to his own realm.”

  “Your crew needs you, Sasha!” Bailey said. “And I need you, too. You’re a really good friend.”

  Dionysus now drifted back to the earth and shut his eyes as if he were fighting a migraine. Aziz stepped forward and touched Dionysus’s massive leg.

  “So either you kick this jerk back to Olympus or we all become goats or whatever, but we’re not leaving without you. Backstagers stick together!”

  Dionysus fell to one knee, panting. Sasha’s voice emerged from his lips.

  “Guys . . . Thank . . . you . . . I love you all . . . but . . . I’m . . .”

  His eyes snapped open, wide like a frightened animal, glowing brilliant blue.

  “. . . I’m losing.”

  Suddenly Dionysus stood again as the sound of thunder ripped across the cliff and a shock wave sent all of the Backstagers flying backward toward the steep drop and raging black water below.

  “I’m impressed,” Dionysus said. “Your friend is strong and your bond with him is special. But tell me why I shouldn’t cast you all off into the sea right now for challenging me?”

  Aziz stood and brushed himself off.

  “Thiasos stole our artifacts so they could summon you into a chained body and command you to do their bidding,” he said. “We don’t want anything from you. We don’t even want your artifacts. We just want our friend back. Surely you don’t need his body.”

  “Maybe I like having a human body,” Dionysus said. “It’s so boring in the realm of the gods. It’s been ages since I’ve had any fun.”

  “And picking off tiny, weak humans is fun?” Aziz asked.

  Dionysus looked to the other Backstagers, who had gathered themselves up off the dirt and now stood united with Aziz.

  “Your friend is good,” he told them. He thought for a moment and then said, “You’re right, I want a challenge. In the backstage, where the real fun is. Each of you, take an artifact and meet me there when you’re ready. If you can impress me with a show of your strength, I will leave your friend’s body unharmed and return to my realm.”

  Aziz looked to his left and to his right as each of his friends nodded bravely.

  “We accept,” Aziz said.

  “Then I shall meet you in the backstage. For the final confrontation.”

  “But where?” Aziz asked.

  “Where else?” Dionysus said. “In the Arch Theater. Choose your artifact and ready yourselves, Backstagers. This is the final act.”

  With that, Dionysus turned into pure golden electricity and shot like a thunderbolt into the cave in the cliffside, through the stone arch portal, into the backstage, leaving the others there alone.

  Aziz exhaled. He learned from his brief stint as an Onstager that he could act a little, but pretending to be brave in the face of an angry demigod should have earned him a Tony.

  “Am I dead?” Blake McQueen moaned from the altar, stirring back to consciousness.

  “No! Thanks to Sasha, none of us are,” Bailey said as she hurried over to help him up.

  “Where is Sasha?” Blake asked groggily.

  “We’ll explain in a minute. First, let’s get you out of those chains. Hmm, maybe . . .”

  She scanned the ground for the pile of robes that had until very recently belonged to a human Madam Thiasos and searched them for the key. She found it and freed Blake, who rubbed at his sore wrists.

  “What are we going to do?” Aziz asked. “It’s good we bought ourselves more time, but even with the artifacts, I don’t know how we’re supposed to defeat a demigod in battle.”

  “But he didn’t say we had to defeat him in a battle,” Bailey said. Everyone looked at her quizzically. “He said we had to impress him.”

  She walked over to the table of artifacts. They looked so ordinary outside of the backstage, with no special power. A notebook, a binder, a microphone, and so on. But just like theater itself, these humble materials are so much more than what meets the eye wh
en imbued with the magic of the backstage.

  She picked up the Show Bible and walked into the cave, toward the stone arch.

  “Bailey, where are you going?” Beckett asked.

  “I need to ask the Show Bible something.”

  She stepped through the arch and was now standing in the twinkling darkness of the tunnels. She opened the Show Bible to a fresh page.

  “What impresses Dionysus?”

  CHAPTER 26

  The Backstagers marched through the tunnels toward their final challenge in the Arch Theater, united and unafraid.

  Beckett lit their path with the Master Switch while Reo cast a circle of protection around the group with the Ghost Light. Aziz was armed with the Carpenter’s Belt while Jory wielded the Designer’s Notebook, just in case they ran into any obstacle on their journey that they needed to tear down or build a bridge across. Bailey and Blake pored over the Show Bible, asking it question after question about the backstage and how it all worked. Hunter carried the Prop Box and God Mic, which weren’t of much use now but soon would be vitally important. Still, he wanted to feel useful, as stage managers often do, so he used the God Mic to blare some music from an epic film soundtrack, gearing them all up to end this thing, once and for all.

  “We need to make a pit stop in the Tool Room,” Aziz said. “There’s something I wanna get before we head into the theater. Kind of a secret weapon.”

  After taking care of Aziz’s errand, they set course for the Arch Theater.

  Before long, a vast red-velvet curtain emerged from the formless darkness of the tunnels, and they knew they were there.

  “This is it, guys,” Hunter said. “Before we go in there, I just want to say what a pleasure it is to call you my crew, all of you. Not even a demigod can take that away from us.”

  He looked to each of them.

  Aziz, so driven and passionate. Always focused on the solution, not the problem.

  Beckett, as intelligent and skilled as he was adorably caffeinated.

  Reo, already such an integral part of the team. What did they ever do without him?

  Bailey and Blake, two Onstagers who actually gave actors a good name. Maybe. Most of the time. He couldn’t believe how bravely they’d faced this strange new world when it meant saving their friends.

  And Jory, his person, the guy who he found endlessly fascinating and inspiring. Not to mention cute. Like, puppy-in-a-hoodie kinda cute.

  “We ready?” Hunter asked.

  “Born ready,” Beckett said.

  “Let’s bring our boy home,” Aziz said.

  “So mote it be,” Reo said with a nod.

  “About time you asked me that,” Bailey said.

  “If we must,” Blake said with a wink.

  “Then let’s do this,” Hunter said, as he drew back the red curtain and they all stepped through, into the Arch Theater, the very heart of all theater magic.

  Dionysus sat like a king on the edge of the mezzanine. He was so large that he took up the entire level as if it were one seat, his legs dangling off the balcony rail, nearly touching the orchestra level below.

  “Welcome, Backstagers of Genesius.”

  “Well, you look comfortable,” Aziz said.

  Dionysus narrowed his glowing blue eyes.

  “Shall I rise? Are you ready to show your strength?” He flexed a giant muscular, golden arm.

  “No, you sit back and relax,” Bailey said. “The show is about to begin.”

  Hunter took up the God Mic and spoke into it, “PLACES! BACKSTAGERS, THIS IS YOUR PLACES CALL! EVERYONE AT PLACES, PLEASE!”

  The Backstagers nodded and scattered into the wings.

  Jory took a pencil from behind his ear, opened the Designer’s Notebook and began to sketch. As he drew, a lush velvet curtain swept across the lip of the stage.

  Beckett slid the Master Switch downward as the lights in the Arch Theater dimmed dramatically.

  Jory drew a piano in the Notebook and a real piano just like it instantly appeared in the pit.

  Blake McQueen stepped out into the light, took a bow, and descended into the pit, Show Bible in hand. He sat at the piano, set the Show Bible on its music stand, whispered something to it, and opened it to reveal a full musical score. He began to play.

  It was the dramatic introduction of “By Myself,” the plaintive anthem of unrequited love from Les Terribles.

  The curtain swept open, revealing the iconic Rainbow Barricade set from the show.

  Aziz pulled flare after flare out of the Carpenter’s Belt, launching them over the stage like pyrotechnic cannon fire.

  “Hm,” Dionysus said, raising a golden eyebrow.

  From his spot in the wings, Reo tossed the Prop Box onto the stage.

  Its lid popped open and from it, Bailey Brentwood emerged, costumed just like the doomed heroine she’d played in Genesius’s production.

  Beckett slid the Master Switch again and the stage was bathed in a gorgeous theatrical light cue. A spotlight hit Bailey just as Blake reached her entrance in the music.

  She tore into the song and somehow sounded even better than she had in its original run. Her acting teacher always talked about how higher stakes made for better acting, and what could make the stakes higher than performing for the mythical creator of theater itself?

  BY MYSELF

  BUT IT’S JUST LIKE HE’S WITH ME

  IN MY MIND

  I STILL CAN FEEL HIM KISS ME . . .

  Beckett watched her from the wing, full of pride and affection. The last time he’d heard her sing this, they were best friends. Now that they’d shared a kiss in real life, the lyrics hit his ear in a new way. He hoped she’d still want to kiss him again if they all got out of this in one piece.

  Bailey reached a crescendo in the song as Blake transitioned the music to a new tune, more rhythmic and contemporary.

  “HERE COMES THE TRANSITION,” Hunter whispered into the God Mic. “SCENIC AND LIGHTS . . . GO!”

  The entire Rainbow Barricade set disappeared with a few slashes of Jory’s eraser and Bailey leaped back into the Prop Box, disappearing from sight.

  Beckett made an adjustment to the Master Switch and now the lighting was colorful and pulsating, like a rock concert. A new set appeared line by line: a city street scene with fire escapes and run-down brick buildings covered in graffiti.

  Bailey emerged from the Prop Box in a new outfit, looking like a 1990s grunge girl ready to go out on the town.

  Aziz reached into the Carpenter’s Belt and drew out a leaf blower. He turned it on high and a breeze blew from the wings through Bailey’s flowing dark hair like she was in the greatest music video ever.

  She was now in the fully realized world of Lease, the tragic rock opera. She began to sing.

  THERE’S NO RE-DO

  NO SECOND TAKE

  MAKE THIS DAY COUNT

  YOUR LIFE IS WHAT’S AT STAKE

  LET’S HIT THE ROAD

  DON’T BE AFRAID

  TODAY’S OUR ONLY DAY . . .

  Blake modulated to a new, spookier tune as Aziz presented a fog machine, spraying a thick, low-lying mist all across the stage.

  “LIGHTS!” Hunter called into the God Mic as Beckett flicked the Switch again and everything went dim.

  Jory erased the Lease set and quickly sketched some flickering candelabras.

  Bailey reached into the Prop Box and pulled out a simple white robe, which she slipped over her grunge clothes, transforming instantly.

  Reo entered from the wing, his black sweater and hat obscuring his face, clutching the Ghost Light like a wizard’s staff. It cast a ghostly light over the fog.

  Bailey and Reo paced around each other in a circle as she sang, as if hypnotized,

  HE’S HERE

  THAT FABULOUS PHANTASM!

  I FEAR

  THAT CURIOUS PHANTASM!

  AHHHHH!

  Bailey sang the challenging vocal section of Crystalline’s big solo from Phantasm with the skill and passion o
f the greatest Broadway soprano. As she nailed the infamous high note, the set once again was swept away to a blank slate as the lights faded and the music transitioned.

  The tune was a rock anthem, written to be performed for stadium-sized crowds. This time, when the lights faded back up into a colorful wash, the set was bare scaffolding with the back wall of the Arch Theater still visible. Bailey emerged from the wing in a simple T-shirt and jeans. She closed the medley with the epic finale from Tammy.

  WHEN I’M WITH YOU, I FEEL THE MUSIC

  WHEN YOU’RE WITH ME, WE HEAR THE BEAT

  WHEN I KISS YOU, I TASTE CRESCENDOS

  I SENSE THE RHYTHM IN YOUR FEET . . .

  Blake played the keys like a rock star on his farewell tour.

  Hunter called cues with the precision of an air traffic controller.

  Aziz pulled duel confetti cannons out of the Carpenter’s Belt and fired blast after blast of glitter around the space.

  Beckett slid the Master Switch up and down, creating a dazzling spectacle of color and light.

  As Bailey held out the powerful final note, Reo pulled their secret weapon out of the Prop Box: a small purple tool mouse whose turquoise tongue lashed about as it bounded out from the wings and scurried up onto Bailey’s shoulder.

  “Friendo?” Dionysus whispered in Sasha’s voice.

  Lights flashed, confetti rained down, Blake ran his hands up and down the keys like a madman, and Bailey belted like a rock star, until finally Hunter called, “BLACKOUT!”

  Everything went quiet and dark.

  When the lights faded back up to simple work light, the whole St. Genesius crew stood in a line across the stage. Friendo still clung to Bailey’s shoulder affectionately.

  She stepped forward.

  “That’s our strength,” Bailey said. “The magic we create when we work together.”

  Dionysus sat expressionless for a moment.

  Everything was silent.

  Then, he started banging his hands together wildly. Each time they collided, lighting flashed and a deafening boom echoed through the theater. It was truly thunderous applause.