The Backstagers and the Final Blackout

by Andy Mientus

  “BRAVO!” Dionysus cried. “That was spectacular! The best show I’ve seen since the opening night of Medea, twenty four hundred years ago!”

  “So you were . . . impressed?” Hunter asked.

  “Most supremely,” Dionysus said with a golden grin. “I had a feeling all those years ago that you’d be the crew to use the artifacts for the good of the theater. I was right to have led you to this day.”

  “Led us? You had this planned all along?” Beckett asked, amazed.

  Dionysus just grinned mischievously.

  “Anyway, a deal’s a deal. I will relinquish your friend’s body as promised. But first, I have one more deal to offer you.”

  “What is it?” Jory asked.

  “Protect my artifacts as your own and use the magic I created in the backstage to spread beautiful theater all your lives,” he said. “In return, I will bless and protect each production you ever work on from my seat in the realm of the gods.”

  Each of the kids nodded. The theater had chosen them just as much as they had chosen the theater. There was no other answer.

  “Farewell, Backstagers,” Dionysus said. “And happy trails.”

  He clapped his massive hands once again, and with a blinding flash, he vanished completely. In his place, Sasha lay in the aisle of the orchestra.

  “Sasha!” Aziz cried as he raced down the aisle to his best friend.

  “Is he okay?!” Hunter asked.

  Aziz cradled Sasha as he groggily opened his eyes.

  “Did . . . did anyone get a pic of me when I was in god mode?” he said.

  Everyone burst out laughing and cheering.

  “He’s fine!” Aziz said as he hugged Sasha tightly.

  Friendo leaped off of Bailey’s shoulder and scampered up the aisle into Sasha’s arms, licking the giggling boy with his turquoise tongue.

  “You did good, crew,” Hunter said as he embraced the others in a bear hug. “Now let’s go home!”

  EPILOGUE

  “House lights to half,” Hunter called into the headset.

  “Copy,” Sasha said, sliding a control on the light board.

  “Jory here!”

  “Reo here.”

  “This is Aziz.”

  “Beckett here, obvi.” Beckett smiled at Hunter from his spot just next to the calling desk.

  “Alright Sasha, bring ’em up.”

  Sasha brought the stage lights to full, revealing a bright and cheery cue splashed across Aziz’s set of a simple podium and a festive sign that read, CONGRATULATIONS, GRADUATES! all across the back wall.

  There was a hearty cheer from the packed house as Ms. LuPone entered and took her place at the podium.

  “Welcome!” she said. “Friends, family members, faculty, and, of course, our new graduating class!”

  There was another enthusiastic roar from the audience. It took Ms. LuPone several attempts to quiet them down so that she could continue.

  “It is my distinct pleasure to be able to lead this ceremony today. As you all well know, St. Genesius hasn’t had an easy time of it these last months. We almost had to sell the school to a private company. But miraculously, they had a change of heart and decided to fund our school from afar and leave the Genesius founders in control of the school. Therefore, let’s give our special thanks to the Thiasos Organization for their generous support.”

  As the audience applauded, Beckett said into the headset, “Yeah, thanks, Aleka. It was the least you could do.”

  “Go easy on her,” Jory said. “Niko and Dia said she’s really struggling with all those goats to care for.”

  Everyone cracked up, and they were all very happy to be stifling laughs over the headset again like old times.

  “Now, without further ado, may I give you our graduating class!”

  One by one, Ms. LuPone announced each of the seniors and they entered from the stage right wing, crossed to the podium where Ms. LuPone gave them their diploma, and exited stage left to cheers.

  For Timothy and Jamie, however, their crosses were a bit different. Timothy entered to flashing colored lights and a sudden jolt of music blasting over the sound system, a pop diva wailing her dance hit. Jamie got pops of streamers from cannons Aziz had installed in hidden chambers in the sign. The guys all cheered over the headset for each successful prank as Ms. LuPone rolled her eyes and smiled. Backstagers will be Backstagers.

  When each graduate exited stage left, they were ushered by Aziz through a door to a hallway, which they followed back into the auditorium. However, when Timothy and Jamie got their diplomas, they were instead met by Jory, who said, “Come with me,” ominously.

  As Quentin Quackenbush began to give his valedictorian address, Jory arrived in the Club Room with Jamie in tow. Timothy was waiting there on the ratty sofa, still in his cap and gown.

  “Okay, we’re both here,” Timothy said. “Now can you tell me what’s going on?!”

  Jory just put his finger over his lips and walked over to the Unsafe door. He opened it wordlessly and gestured for them to enter.

  “Fair enough,” Jamie said, chuckling.

  Timothy and Jamie stepped through the Unsafe door into the tunnels, where they found a mysterious red thread tied to the inside doorknob. It stretched invitingly into the abyss.

  “After you,” Jory said.

  The three of them followed the thread through twists and turns until they reached its end at another doorknob. The door was rough around the edges, as if it had been hastily sketched into the blackness of the tunnels.

  “Shall we?” Jamie asked.

  “I think we’d better,” Timothy said.

  They opened the door and stepped inside. Jamie gasped. Timothy took Jamie’s hand.

  They were all there.

  Hunter and Aziz and Beckett and Sasha and Reo and Bailey and even Friendo stood on the stage of the Arch Theater, which had been decorated with beautiful hanging lanterns and draped streamers, but that wasn’t all. Blake and Kevin McQueen, reunited as brothers and as copresidents of the drama club, gave identical waves. The Backstager girls from Penitent Angels were there, too: Vivian in her signature black hat, Amber looking stylish as ever in hoop earrings, tall Genevieve smiling uncharacteristically, Juniper, whose ginger pompadour rivaled Hunter’s in height and structural perfection, and, of course, Adrienne and Chloe, who held each other like sisters as they wiped fresh tears from their eyes. Mr. Rample and Bert stood off to the side, where they’d just put the finishing touches on a lavish pizza party spread. Spectral Phoebe hovered above them all holding the Ghost Light, ever their protector.

  Everyone began to applaud. Timothy and Jamie began to cry.

  “Ha-HA!” Bert cheered.

  The boys from Genesius raced forward and scooped the graduates up in a group hug as the others continued to cheer. Time was always fluid in the backstage, but it was the friendship contained in that group hug and not the magical theater where it took place that made the moment seem to last forever.

  When the hug finally broke, Hunter tapped a few symbols on the God Mic, filling the theater with thumping music as the party began. Sasha and Aziz practically pounced on the snack table while Hunter gave Jory a spin, starting a dance party toward the lip of the stage. Reo caught eyes with the enigmatic Vivian and tipped his black hat in greeting. She tipped hers back, and the two came together by the punch bowl to meet. Beckett was off in the wings fiddling with the Master Switch to get the perfect disco-ball cue when Bailey approached.

  “You guys pulled off the surprise,” she said. “Congrats.”

  “Yeah,” Beckett said, suddenly nervous again around the person he’d always felt closest to. “I can’t believe none of the guys ruined it.”

  “Well, you’re all pretty good at keeping secrets,” Bailey said with a smirk.

  Beckett turned a bright pink and began to stammer when Bailey let him off the hook.

  “I’m messing with you,” she said.

  Beckett laughed and dropped his head guil
tily. “I wish I knew how to make things right again,” he said.

  “I’d start with the truth. The whole truth. I bet you guys have some pretty amazing stories from the backstage.”

  “Oh, totally,” Beckett said. “A million of ’em. It’s been a wild ride.”

  “Well, how about you tell me the best ones over pizza this weekend? You’re buying.”

  “You mean like a date?” Beckett asked.

  “Well, are you gonna make me spell it out for you?” Bailey asked with a laugh. Beckett couldn’t help but smile and was relieved to see Bailey smile right back, just like old times. They stood like that for a wonderful moment before the music lowered and Mr. Rample stepped to the middle of the space, raising a plastic cup of punch to make a toast. Everyone gathered around.

  “Timothy, Jamie, congratulations on a legendary run as Backstagers here at St. Genesius. You have led a team like no other I’ve seen and raised them up to be worthy successors. I know the next generation will make you as proud as you’ve made me.”

  Timothy and Jamie smiled at Hunter and Beckett, who nodded with the confidence required of the next official stage managers of St. Genesius.

  “In fact, you have done such impressive work,” Mr. Rample continued, “that Bert and I would like to offer you both positions on the professional crew at the Forest of Arden Theater. Jamie could begin immediately, and Timothy when he completes his studies at Wolverine University. I hope you’ll both accept.”

  Jamie opened his mouth to speak but could only sob tears of joy as he embraced Mr. Rample.

  “Can I take that as a yes?!” Rample chuckled.

  “Yes. Yes, of course, it’s a yes! How can I ever repay you?” Jamie said, wiping his tears.

  “Oh, kiddo, this is me repaying you! You passed the magic of theater on to the next generation, as they will someday do themselves. It’s like the great song from A Casting Call says: ‘the gift is ours to borrow.’”

  Everyone gathered around: a circle of outsiders who became friends, all for the love of theater and the tradition and lore that came with it.

  Rample looked to each of them and said, “We’ve all seen a lot of fantastical, mysterious, impossible things in our time in the backstage, but the most magical thing of all about being a Backstager is the community. For all the ups, there will be many downs in your lives as artists. That’s the price you’ll pay for doing what you love. But your community is what will keep you going through all of it, just as it has in your time here at Genesius. Backstagers are kindred for life, across generations. As long as outcasts come together in the dark to make magic, we’ll all be together.”

  Jory’s breath caught in his chest as he thought, for the first time, about what it would mean to be a Backstager for life. His first year with his crew had been filled with unimaginable dangers, terrifying monsters, and grueling challenges. It had also been the best year ever. Looking around at his fellow outcasts, he couldn’t imagine a better way to spend a life or a better crew to spend it with.

  THE END

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  Once again, I must express profound gratitude to Maggie Lehrman for leading me to the Backstagers and guiding me so expertly through this process and to Rian Sygh and James Tynion IV for trusting me with their world and characters. It’s been one of the great honors of my career to take your story forward.

  Big applause to Emily Daluga and everyone at BOOM! for their invaluable input, Andrew Smith and everyone at Abrams/Amulet for welcoming me to the best home a writer could ask for, Hallie Patterson for helping me get the word out and joining me on adventures to the Bronx, and Geoff Soffer for nailing it behind the scenes, whatever I do.

  ANDY MIENTUS is an actor, singer, and songwriter who is best known for his roles in Spring Awakening, Wicked, Les Misérables, Smash, and The Flash. He lives in New York City.

  RIAN SYGH is a comic artist and cocreator of the award-winning Backstagers comics. He lives in Glendale, California.

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