April 1919

The thumping sound of dancers on wooden floors was heard throughout the corridors of the opera house as the managers prepared for the evening's performance. The orchestra practiced their numbers for what sounded like the millionth time, the band playing along to the tentative drag of bows over strings.

The room where Castiel stayed hummed with nervous energy, his anxious hums filling the empty space. His hands wrung together as he waited for Sam, the head choreographer and his foster brother. Since the death of his father when he was a boy, Castiel had stayed in the opera house and worked. Before Sam discovered his talent for dancing and singing, he had done odd jobs around the theater that mostly involved cleaning. After Sam's discovery, Castiel had been integrated into the operas put on as a dancer.

Sam knew it was his deepest desire to sing, to please his tutor. Sam, after many years, still did not know why he chose Castiel to take under his wing. The choreographer chose not to ask, favoring the path of watching the boy he'd taken in flourish into a talented vocalist. Sam's caretaker, Bobby, had approved of Sam taking in Castiel, so he stayed. Over the years, Sam and Castiel became closer than most blood brothers ever were.

Castiel was snapped out of his memories by three stiff knocks on his door. It opened to reveal Sam, looking uncomfortable in his tuxedo. Castiel chuckled knowingly at his companion, remembering the time Sam had gotten drunk on cheap liquor and confessing his hatred of suits.

"Hey, Cas. Rehearsal time. Someone has to show those incompetent twits how it's done, eh?"

Castiel smiled at the nickname and praise, rising from the stool he'd been sitting on. He was short in comparison to Sam, but it never bothered him.

"Yes, Sam. I suppose someone must bear the burden of talent."

Sam laughed heartily.

"Careful, Cas. You're starting to sound like Gabriel."

Gabriel was the prima donna of the company. A self-absorbed young man, Gabriel was the sort to seek revenge if his demands were not met to the letter. He would play devious tricks on anyone who spoke a word wrong to him, usually resulting in discomfort and headache but never injury. His nickname among the company was the Trickster, and rightfully so.

Cas shuddered at the reprimand, the thought of becoming such a thorn in someone's side so unappealing to him. He shoved Sam's shoulder and Sam tousled his dark half-formed curls. The two walked to the dance studio side by side, detouring to the theater to hear the musical accompaniment. Gabriel stood onstage, squawking out an aria for two stout, elderly men standing beside the manager.

Sam sighed, muttering the words "new management" under his breath. Cas watched with half-formed interest as Gabriel's voice cracked on a high note, making him wince. Suddenly, a prop background toppled forward and hit him in the legs, forcing him to topple over rather unceremoniously. He screamed loudly, cursing as he violently shoved the slab of wood off of his legs. He staggered to his feet, whirling around looking for anyone looking guilty.

When he could find no one to accuse, he angrily marched over to the three men on the other side of the stage.

"You," he began, teeth gritted, "will find whoever is responsible. I will know who just attempted to cripple me before a performance!"

The manager, John Winchester, sighed heavily.

"Gabriel, I am certain no one was attempting to injure you. No investigation will be needed."

Gabriel huffed, stomping offstage with his fists balled at his sides.

Sam looked over to Castiel, who watched the ongoing events with a small, sarcastic smile.

"My father seems to be in a good mood as usual, doesn't he?" Sam said.

In addition to being the theater's manager, John Winchester was father to Sam. Due to his busy schedule and very un-paternal nature, Bobby had remained more of a father to the boys than John was ever able to.

John sighed again.

"We have just lost our star. I don't much feel in the groveling mood, and I am assuming neither of you feel like begging him to return either. So now what in the hell are we going to do?"

Sam looked down on Cas, who was oblivious to Sam's train of thought.

Sam piped up from the back of the theater, words that would change Castiel's fate.

"Castiel could sing for them, father."

John looked over at Sam just as Cas did, two vastly different expressions on their faces. John looked at Sam with interest and mild surprise at his son's suggestion; Cas looked at Sam in shock and fear. Sam grabbed Castiel's arm, half dragging him to the stage.

"Come on, Cas," he whispered, guiding the young man to the stage, "you want to sing. You're dying in dance rehearsals. It would make him happy, too."

Castiel's face turned bright red and he allowed Sam to guide him up the steps. He took his place in the center of the stage, inhaling sharply at the perspective. He glanced at John, who replied with an encouraging nod.

He opened his mouth and began to sing, soft and sweet at first but building in strength and sonority as his confidence soared.

He opened his eyes at the end of his aria, his heart racing and his breath coming in swift puffs. John was nodding, pleased, and the two new managers stared at him openmouthed.

John sent a wink at Castiel before speaking.

"You'll fill in just fine, Castiel. Sam, I trust you'll prepare him?"\

Sam grinned at Castiel as he replied.

"Of course, father. He'll be ready by tonight."

Cas walked offstage, dizzy with the high of performing.

Sam shoved him lightly, sending him stumbling a few steps.

"You didn't tell me you were hiding such an amazing voice, Cas. What else are you hiding from me?" Sam teased.

"Nothing, Sam. My voice is, alas, my final secret. I am now a completely open book."

Sam led Cas to his room, bidding him good luck with his performance later.

When Sam left, Cas slumped against the door, running a hand through his hair and sighing.

He was the star.

Author's Note- Hello lovelies! I am yet again forced to admit that high school is hard! I've been taking some time off of writing (something I deeply regret having to do, but my grades are unfortunately a bit more important than my writing at this point) and catching up on things outside of school. But I am back! I may still be on an incredibly erratic updating schedule, but I am going to try to stick with it. The thing is, writing for all of you is something I take so much pride in. It takes a lot of courage to stick your words on the internet for other people to see, and I'm so glad that a lot of you enjoy my take on all of these stories. In response to other potential questions-

Yes, I will likely be continuing updates on old unfinished works. I'll have to get back into the groove on those, but I'll see what I can do.

Yes, I take requests! If you have an idea for a one-shot fic that I can safely rate T (that means nothing of a sexual nature, you're going to have to find someone else for that) then please feel free to send me a message! I don't bite. I promise.

Yes, I do read all of my reviews! I wish I had time to reply to all of them because you all are so kind and encouraging, but usually I don't get the time to. I do, however, appreciate any and all reviews and constructive criticism I get. By letting me know what works and what doesn't, you're helping me improve my writing quality. So thanks.

I wish I could shake all of your hands or give you a hug, because you (just by reading!) make me so happy. Unfortunately, this is the internet. I can't hug you through my laptop.