The smallest auditorium from ten to midnight on Tuesdays may not have been ideal as a meeting space, but for a freshman finding a place for his new, not exactly popular show choir to rehearse, it was pretty good. Adam just had to shut down and lock up (with his own temporary copy of the key) when they were done.
He had just finished turning off all the lights and was trying to feel his way to the door when a clear voice called from somewhere behind him, "Excuse me, could I get some light in here?"
Adam startled, then slid down the wall again until he found the switch for the work lights. He could have sworn he was the only one there.
When the lights came up, there was a boy about his age standing there. He had pale skin, beautiful chestnut hair, and was dressed in the best fashions… of the seventies. This, combined with one of the girls showing up to practice today in a long flowing skirt and beads that wouldn't have been out of place at Woodstock, made Adam realize he was more out of the fashion loop than he thought.
"So sorry, I didn't realize anyone else was here." He took another look at his surprise companion. "I'm sorry, I don't recognize you. Are you another freshman?"
The other boy smiled, but it was brittle. "Not exactly. Which is why I feel obligated to inform you that you forgot to plug in the ghost light."
"The what?"
He nodded to a bare bulb in a wire cage that was sitting on top of a rolling light stand. "It's an old superstition. You leave it center stage overnight. It could be to keep the ghosts out, it could be to let them perform at night and keep them happy."
"Surely you don't believe in ghosts."
Another smile, this one much more sad. "Not usually, but there was a boy that died here, back when the auditorium was first built. Nothing dramatic, just a musical theatre student who ended up helping the light crew and accidentally messed with ungrounded electrics. The light is so he can sing all the songs he never got to sing. But you have to plug it in because one, he's a ghost and can't, and two, he doesn't like messing with electricity."
Adam laughed. "Smart ghost."
A hand waved the comment away before he continued. "The story is true, whether you believe in the ghost or not. They named the auditorium after him. Really, the light is so you can see your way out and the first person in the morning can see their way in."
Thinking about his stumbling that only lasted about five steps before they started talking, Adam nodded. "That makes sense." He grabbed the light and plugged it in, then wheeled it to center stage. He turned off the work lights once again. Sure enough, while it was still dark, he could see the door at the back. "Much better." He turned to his new friend. "You coming?"
"No, I have an audition to practice for. I needed a bigger space than those infuriating practice rooms."
"Alright then." Adam shouldered his bag and was walking to the door when Kurt called out.
"Don't forget to lock it. I don't have a key, so it'll just lock behind me when I leave."
"Sure thing," Adam called over his shoulder. "It was nice to meet you…"
"Kurt."
"Adam." He pushed the door open and glanced back. "I'll see you around."
The single light looked ethereal on stage, shining around Kurt and… through him? Adam shook his head. Obviously he needed more sleep.
As he stepped out of Hummel Auditorium, he heard Kurt begin singing. It was absolutely breathtaking. Whatever he was auditioning for, he would get it.