Elsewhere in the library, Jill and Iko sat at a table together as Iko finished up playing one of his tracks off his laptop for her. She seemed quite enthused, a big smile on her face.
"So, you actually made this yourself? Like, by yourself, by yourself?"
"Yeah." He pointed to the screen, showing off the digital audio workshop interface he used. "See these dials here? They automate the volume of each of these tracks in the channel. And do you see the patterns? These are where the individual audio tracks get placed. I try to keep them organized, but sometimes it looks like a jumbled mess."
"So, this is a mess?"
He chuckled. "Yes, it's messy." He clicked something, bringing up another interface that slightly resembled a DJ's physical soundboard. "Now, these little strings here get sidechained onto the track I want to mix, then I can go over to this menu here to add effects-stuff like reverb, distortion, compression. I can EQ from here. Etcetera etcetera."
Smiling at him, Jill replied, "Iko, I love your passion, and you definitely know what you're doing-"
"Arguable."
"But I don't know what any of that means. You gotta slow down for me."
"Ah, right. I will, but I just need to use the bathroom first. Be right back."
"Okay. Maybe you can explain what an EQ is when you get back."
He chuckled again. "Yeah."
On his way through the library, Jill watched him, and, his back turned to her, a smile was stuck on his face. He pushed open the library door with a confident swagger about his walk. His overcoat swayed around as he walked in a little dance, eventually noticing MK leaning on a wall outside the library.
"Hey, MK. Hope you're having a nice morning."
She held out Matcha's stolen phone, clicking play on a video of Iko at the confessional table. The producer's happy energy receded in an instant.
"I don't blame Jill. We all make mistakes. We're all worthy of second chances. Especially if you're really pretty, with beautiful, red hair, olive skin, and emerald-green eyes. Yeah, all that stuff together helps."
Nice and sly, MK said, "You like Jill."
"Where did you get that?"
He reached for the phone, only for MK to wriggle away.
"It's part of my little collection. I also really like this one." She clicked a clip of Iko saying, "Without a single musical challenge so far in the competition, I've been feeling like dead weight around the rest of my teammates. I don't like thinking about this, but the way things are going, whenever we get around to going to a real elimination ceremony, they might get rid of me first."
As it played, Iko reached for it, with MK keeping the phone just out of his reach. While short, Iko still had height on MK, but the girl still managed to keep the phone from her stubby teammate.
She snickered and snorted. "This is a fair assessment, Iko. You really ought to come up with some kind of strategy. After all, Scary Girl was the obvious choice to get rid of, no matter who else blundered in a challenge. Now? Anyone could go home. That includes you, bub."
"I don't get it. I just said I hoped you were having a nice morning. What did I do to deserve this?"
"Don't take it personally, Ik."
"'Ik'?"
"Yeah. Like, 'Ik! A penis!'"
"What are you talking about?"
"Haven't you ever seen South Park?" She groaned. "Whatever. Listen, if you don't want me to go tell Jill about your little crush, and really, really exaggerate, then you're gonna do as I say."
"Exaggerate?" he echoed.
She nodded. "Oh yeah. I'll tell her all about your milking fetish that I just made up, about how you wanna set a pail under those tig ol' bitties of hers and go to town. I'll tell her I caught you violently masturbating with her beanie in the middle of the night. I'd tell her-"
"I- she- but- we- I just- she's- it's too- I'm-" He sighed. "What do you want?"
"I need an ally, so the next time we lose, you're voting with me. Deal?"
He sighed. "Like I have a choice in the matter."
She smiled. "Course you do, bubba; you'd just be a dumbass to pick what isn't in my best interests."
With Iko slouched in defeat, the sound of Mercutio's voice echoed off the sea of halls and lockers, the academy intercom turning on.
"Best of mornings to you, students. Come on down to the auditorium for today's challenge. Today's major is-"
The shot flashed to the eighteen contestants in the rows of seats in the auditorium, watching Mercutio, beside Tracy, address them from onstage. The host threw up his hands, two curtains falling down on both sides of them, one with the tragedy thespian mask, and the other with the comedy mask.
"Theater!" Mercutio declared. "I am a lover of the arts, as was alluded to in the design challenge. In today's challenge, I want you to show me that you're lovers of the arts as well."
"What if we don't actually care about that dogshit?" Jayshawn asked.
"Then leave that attitude on the Bus of Shame and your team may soon send you there, too-for the second time, might I add, Jayshawn. You're going to have to pretend, because in today's challenge, you'll be competing against your opponents to have the better performance, blending together all the subtle complexities and nuances that come with a stellar performance."
"I didn't take you for such an art connoisseur," Queen remarked, crossing her arms.
"There is much about me you have yet to learn."
"Got that right," Cody muttered.
"What was that?"
"Uh, I didn't say anything."
"Interrupting me? Really?"
"Well, no, I was just-"
Mercutio spoke over him. "Hmm, well, if you have so much to say, then perhaps you'd be the best candidate to participate in the first challenge? Each team is going to need an actor after all."
Cody stammered for a moment, his tongue in a knot as he replied, "I-I don't really think that's such a-"
"Wonderful! Cody will be participating in the first challenge. What is that first challenge, you may ask? Simple. Each team will be selecting two contestants for a task each; writing and acting. For the Grads, Cody will be performing a monologue written by one of his other teammates. Same goes for the Dropouts, though I will play no part in their selection process."
"How is this fair?" Cody complained.
"Whine any more and you'll be writing yourself a monologue. Understood?"
A submissive nod answered him.
"The piece will be judged by myself and Tracy based upon its emotional resonance. Whichever team wins this first challenge gains a massive advantage in the second challenge-the real challenge for the day. Everyone on the same page?"
Several of the contestants nodded.
"Split into your teams and choose your writers and actor."
The shot flashed to each of the teams on opposite sides of the auditorium. Jayshawn cast a glare over at the Dropouts as they discussed together.
"What's wrong, Gayshawn?" Fish prompted.
"I'm not a fuckin' fan of their odds. Eleven to seven ain't fair, no matter what way you spin it. We've won the last two challenges. They finally lose a teammate and Mercutio gives 'em another. I'm over this horseshit."
"Reminisce on it after we win. Come on, we need to pick a writer. Any takers?"
No one volunteered at first. Bowie let his gaze drift around the crowd. Of note for him was Londyn's posture and demeanor. Today, she looked like the female, attractive, tattooed replica of Stephen, closing off her body language to everyone else as she sat looking like the auditorium seat would swallow her whole.
"You... okay?"
From where her knees were up with her face hidden, only showing the floral tattoos above her eyebrows, she glanced up to face Bowie with a dejected expression. "Hmm? Yeah. Fine. I don't wanna be the writer."
A few more seconds passed with no one volunteering.
"Come on, everybody. Someone's gotta do it."
Zee cracked open a soda, pointing at Bowie with a glazed smile and saying, "But that someone could be you. Just sayin'."
"But that someone isn't gonna be. I've always been as inclined to write creatively as straight couples are to present themselves with sanity."
"Ha!" Slurp. "You said it, brother."
"I'll write it," Stephen murmured.
Jayshawn flashed him a gaze like he'd just smelled a French bulldog fart. "Emo boy that stabbed Noah and took a teammate out of our running at a time like this wants a chance. Fat fuckin' chance." [1]
"Look, if he wants to do it, I say we let him," Bowie argued, "so long as the pencil he uses is dull. Besides, if someone else besides me is interested? Splen-diddly-fucking-tastic; I mean, don't make me admit that I get Ds in my English class."
Confessional - Bowie
Bowie slung one leg over the other as he said, "Wish I was getting them outside of English class. Zing! But," he sighed, "it's tough out here nowadays, sis."
End of confessional
Tracy leaned over and whispered in Mercutio's ear, "They've chosen Stephen to be their writer. Stephen and Cody should make for an interesting creative pairing."
"Indeed."
"What did you do with Stephen after Noah got taken away?" Tracy asked.
"Hmm?"
"You must have done something. Right?"
Mercutio leaned over in his seat to eye Tracy down, the chef growing somewhat uneasy with his boss' intent gaze. "Perhaps you'd be best in a position where you don't judge how I do my job. You get to judge the contestants with me, but your liberties on my television show have a ceiling. Shoot for the stars and you may find yourself judging different fast food hiring opportunities."
Tracy raised his hands. "Sheesh, Mercutio, I didn't mean anything by it. A little touchy today."
Mercutio snorted. "Find me some rum, tovarisch."
Over on the Dropouts' side of the auditorium, MK briskly shoved a hand into her jacket pocket to silence the buzz of Matcha's phone; another new confessional had been added to the mix. Snooping, Athena poked her nose out and glanced down at what MK was doing.
"Hey, Mary, whatcha rufflin' around in there?"
"It's MK, and I don't know. Iko, what am I ruffling around in here?"
Jerking out of his focus lying elsewhere, he replied, "MK wishes she was a 90s baby, so she uses pagers."
"Your wisdom knows no bounds."
"Oh! Coolio!" Athena peeped. "Can I see it?"
MK tripped over her words, not expecting the question.
"Guys, not right now," Matcha interrupted. "Let's make some decisions. If I were to suggest someone for either position, maybe Iko could be our writer, and Caleb our actor?"
"Really think I could do it?" Caleb asked, a smooth smile on his face.
"Wait, wait, wait," Athena placed her hands on Caleb's chest, "could I be the actor?"
"You feel free to be the actress, Athena."
"Ooh! I really like the sound of that!"
"God, Jesus Christ, Athena," Holden smacked the back end of the seat in front of him, "can you please just respond to people like you were born on this planet?"
"Hey, chill the hell out, Holden," Caleb snapped. "Let's not do this again."
"Give her a break," Jill urged.
"Bite me, both of you. Stop acting like Athena's some toddler that needs her two parents to come save her anytime someone fwightens her. You think she's capable? Let her deal with criticism herself."
"Are you even aware of how much of a waste of time you're creating?" Matcha interjected.
"Uh, I'm just gonna jump in here," Kobe intervened. "I'll be our writer."
"See, that's better." She faced Holden again and said, "You should feel lucky Kobe volunteered, 'cause I was this close from making you be the writer."
"Like you could make me do anything."
"Ay, Mercutio!" Damien shouted. "We're gonna have Athena act and Kobe write!"
"Perfect," the host responded. "Stephen and Kobe, you each have an hour to write something meaningful for me. Tracy will hand out pencils and paper."
"Mercutio, how much can we help influence our team's writer and actor?" Matcha asked.
"That's the neat part-you can't. Get to it."
Confessional - Bowie
"I wonder what Kobe will write. I didn't take him for the creative type, but there must be a reason why it's him instead of any of the ten other teammates he has, right?"
Confessional - Matcha
"I'm about at my wit's end for the lack of teamwork on my team. Whoever wins the first challenge doesn't matter-I'm making sure we're working in a team effort for the second challenge. It was a Dropout sweep when we did that in the painting challenge. All we have to do is recreate that same energy."
End of confessionals
A montage of clips went by showing Kobe and Stephen in separate rooms, separate from one another. The camera faded from side to side, showing dynamic shots of both contestants as they sat at wooden tables and scrawled on their papers. Running into a mental block, Kobe stared into the distance and ran a hand through his afro. It didn't take long for him to become more interested in admiring and playing with his own afro than the challenge at hand.
More clips went by, showing Cody clearing his throat as he paced around backstage, stepping over loose stage ropes as he recited parts of Stephen's paper. The shot of Cody was layered over with a separate shot of Athena practicing Kobe's piece.
Later on, Mercutio, Tracy, and sixteen of the contestants, minus Athena and Cody, sat in the auditorium with a stage light on the center of the curtains, cloaking the stage.
"Ladies and gentlemen, put your hands together for... Athena."
The thespian masks on the curtains folded up as the drapes were parted, revealing Athena skipping up into the spotlight. Some of the Dropouts clapped for her, with Caleb flashing a gaze of admiration.
Athena smiled with a twinge of nervousness, waved to Caleb, then proceeded to clear her throat. "Ahem. Okay." The orangey-blonde straightened herself, and within moments, the nervousness she held onstage had fallen away into nothingness.
"When I was younger, Quincy provided me with a home I never found around me."
She spoke with complete seriousness. The piece, whatever she was about to recite, was treated with the utmost respect, like she truly was the protagonist of Kobe's story.
"I'd grown up in the suburbs. Funny how you can feel so alone surrounded by people. I woke up to gunshots and fell asleep to cries for help, and no one ever came. We were the passengers of a sinking ship, adrift from the raging waters of east coast America. I'd been choking on foamy water for as long as I could remember, only quelled once I found Quincy.
"He was my beacon, my lighthouse, and he led me back to myself. While sunrise brought with it another set of friends to fill coffins, I let my hand drift over his fur. As my dad painted the living room red with another fist coated in my mom's blood, I let myself ride the waves of Quincy's meows, his soft beckoning, his gentle companionship. Quincy turned a rocket into a paddleboat, coasting along the ebbs and flows with a purring friend atop my chest all the way."
Tears dripped down Athena's cheeks, as she struggled to continue. "I knew... I always knew Quincy didn't belong in this F'd up world. A pair of tire treads served as his exit from this life into the next, and with him went all the heart that he provided in a devastated land of turmoil. It was as if the stars had gone out, with the sky empty every time I slept. It was as if the air had fled from every room just before I entered it, and like I could scrape the barest of oxygen into my asphyxiated lungs.
"For a time, Quincy was a welcomed distraction. He changed how I view pain. The brushing of his furry head against my pant leg was his way of saying you deserve love, when I know that I don't. Finding his tuxedo fur all along my belongings reminded me why I live life. He was the archangel tasked with finding a life among Hell, and for a time, he brightened up everything he found."
With Athena's performance concluded, the emotions had definitely resonated with several members of the audience. Though, not all.
"That's it?" Holden remarked.
Zee sniffled, him and Damien hugging each other with sadness in their eyes. "Oh, kitty..."
"That was- that touched me," Tracy whimpered. "Not in the way my gym teacher used to, but in my heart."
"Let's do what we can to leave what Tracy just said behind us," Mercutio urged. "I give Athena a score of eight points!"
"Ten!" Tracy declared.
"You guys are so sweet," Athena gushed, wiping a tear from her eye.
"All right, let us see what Cody has for us," Mercutio prompted.
With that, Athena giddily made her way offstage to embrace Caleb while Cody readied up for his performance. The geek cleared his throat several times, then glanced into the crowd, little as he could see them from the harsh spotlight beaming down on him. He took a deep breath, then went ahead.
"I'd yearned for a companion with fiery conviction and passion.
A soul with a brazen fire lit within.
Never to be quelled by the laps of waves, unabashedly dazzling and dashing.
Despite her sodden exterior, beautiful and meant for these waters, her arms like fins.
She was an astounding olive green, iridescent.
I was trapped amidst a flock of mirrors since adolescence.
Longing to venture where the seas were warm, I dove and squawked farewell.
The depths were once an orca, belittling me to the smallest grain of sand.
Then I found her, her spirit and effervescent squeak a siren call to stir Heaven itself.
From the deepest gulf to the shallowest pond, our treks were a philter to strengthen.
Our zeal, vigor, and connection as two wanderers said to never last.
We left these naysayers in a flash; it didn't matter that she was a fish, and I, a penguin." [2]
Silent at first, multiple people clapped for the performance and the words he spoke. While he did not become as emotional as Athena, he still retained an element of seriousness to the poem.
Hidden from everybody else, Izzy lingered in the high ceiling rafters, her ear to the surface as she listened in on his monologue. "Good. Good for him," she murmured.
"Nice job, Cody!" Zee exclaimed.
"That was written by Stephen?" Bowie remarked.
Kobe stood. "Uh, it wasn't. Mercutio, I don't know what happened, but that was my poem."
"Wait, I read Kobe's piece?" Cody echoed.
"You mean Athena's piece with the cat was actually Stephen's?" Caleb assumed, Athena's legs draped over his lap.
Mercutio chuckled. "What an interesting mixup! Well, we're already here, aren't we? The actors' evaluation will remain with the opposite contestant's piece."
"We really just gonna leave this as is?" Kobe wondered.
"Tracy, your thoughts on Cody's performance?"
"I thought he did well, but he didn't take the piece very far. He remained pretty static throughout the performance. It sounded like, were he to just do a cold reading of Kobe's poem, nothing would have changed about his presentation. The poem itself was more interesting to me. Seven points."
"I give it five. Well then, it looks like Athena has won the Dropouts their advantage in the second challenge!"
The Dropouts cheered, with Athena surprising her team by leaning in and giving Caleb a kiss in the middle of the celebration.
Confessional - Caleb
"Wow... we kissed-like, in front of the team. I totally wasn't expecting that. I guess that means she feels pretty serious, right? I just... I guess I sort of wish it could have been more private. That sort of thing can, uh, rile up competitive types. I can think of a few people on our team I don't trust too well, the sort of people that maybe shouldn't have just seen that."
Confessional - Holden
"If Athena leans and kisses me, she's getting decked in the fucking eye socket."
Confessional - Bowie
"So, Kobe wrote that poem... He's an athlete and a wordsmith. He just gets more and more attractive, doesn't he?" Bowie slung a leg over the other and added, "Just think-if we were dating, he could write something like that for me personally. Ugh."
Confessional - Zee
"So, hang on, let me get this right... Kobe is a penguin? Or, wait, maybe Kobe's keeping a penguin in his afro. Where else would there be room for one of those weird-ass little flightless mofos?"
End of confessionals
"How the fuck is this fair?" Jayshawn snapped. "Athena wouldn't have had the performance at all without Stephen's piece! We deserve that advantage!"
"Well, you don't have it," Mercutio retorted. "You'd better learn to deal with it. Good lord, you're whiny. Why so upset, Jayshawn? Afraid you can't win without it?"
"Fuck nah! Watch us win! Wouldn't be the first time, little as it looks like it," he grumbled.
"Hey. You watch your tone with me, worm."
Confessional - Jayshawn
"'Worm'? Mo'fucka called me a 'worm'? What the fuck, bro..."
End of confessional
A little bit later, the teams gathered up onstage with Mercutio in front of them. Behind the host were multiple crates further back on the stage, as well as chairs and tables. The chairs weren't necessarily inviting; they looked more closely to having been stacked together as part of storage. Tracy handed off eleven scripts to each member of the Dropouts as Mercutio spoke.
"In the second challenge of the day, each team will be banding together with all of their teammates this time to write a scene that will incorporate the whole team in some manner. Dropouts, for winning the first challenge thanks to Athena and," the host failed to hide a chuckle as he stared at the annoyed Grads, "Stephen, all you have to do is make slight adjustments to the script Tracy has provided you."
"Goddamn, this challenge 'bout to be easy," Damien commented. "Ayie! Fish, not my ass!"
"Yeah, that's what you get for underestimating us. We're gonna stomp you guys."
"Beware Dropouts, you must actually make revisions to the script. If what you do is perform the unchanged template script, I will be able to tell, and the Grads will win by default. Grads, you're creating a scene from scratch. Whatever genre you wish is up to you; drama, comedy, romance, action, it does not matter. Another rule: leave a member of your team out and you lose. However, you may designate a teammate to be your technical person, dealing with the lighting or other technical aspects of your choosing. That will be fine. Therefore, the Dropouts could have ten actors and the Grads, six actors, and that will be a-okay.
"Behind me, you will find crates with cloth you can use to make costumes. There are chairs, props, and more. Now, you don't have to use any of that, but it will increase your chances of success. Show some creativity, and you may just earn the dorms for the night because of it."
"Boy, do I hate the garage," Damien muttered.
"Now, get to work. You have three hours starting now."
"Might as well get some props," Matcha figured, and approached one of the boxes.
Fish set his hands on it a second later. "Hands off," he ordered.
"Do you have a problem?"
"Yeah, it's that you're holding onto my box."
Frowning, Matcha took her hands off the box, thudding it hard against his feet. He let out a groan, then she took the box back as he jumped around, holding his slammed feet.
"Oh, I see you're holding something else now," Matcha commented. "Guess I'll go ahead and take this then."
She stepped back towards her team, now taking one side of the stage opposite from the Grads.
"It doesn't get any more metal than that," Holden remarked.
"Girl, that was totally wizard!" Damien exclaimed.
"It was what now?" she replied.
Meanwhile, Zee grabbed another box from the pile, followed by Jayshawn doing the same. Athena bounded up and grabbed Jayshawn's box, but he held on tight as she tried to bound away with it.
"Ay, manners, blondie, what's wrong witchu?"
"I'm just taking a box," she responded, naive as always.
"Let go," he growled.
"Caleb?" she peeped.
Overhearing, Caleb stepped forth to stand between the two. "What's wrong?"
"He's got my box."
"Oh, hell nah, bitch, you on some horseshit."
"Hey," Caleb snagged the box away with ease. The bulge of his muscles, larger and bulkier than Jayshawn's, had the reporter's lip flaring. "Athena, I'll handle this."
"Thank you," she murmured, retreating back to the Dropouts' side.
"Fuck is wrong witchu?" Jayshawn questioned. "Did you not see her try and take this from me? I had it first!"
Caleb quieted his voice to respond. "Look, man, Athena's a... special girl, all right? She's got some social issues. Just give her a break, all right? There's plenty of boxes left, just let us take this one. Guy to guy, just do me this solid."
Jayshawn pushed the crate against Caleb's chest, growling, "Fuck yo' solid, mothafucka. I don't give a fuck about blondie's social issues. If you recall, she operated the crane that swung in Asiaface, who grabbed me and dropped me a dozen fuckin' feet. You ask me? Social issues ain't all she's got."
Glaring at him all the way, Jayshawn stomped back to the rest of the stacked up props and crates, with Caleb left feeling uncertain.
Confessional - Caleb
"Okay, yes, maybe Holden and Jayshawn are right that Athena is... troubled. But they're blowing it out of proportion, and I told this girl I was gonna look out for her. My word is worth something."
[1] - This French bulldog reference may be specific, but it is unfortunately a situation that elicits a very real grimace
[2] - This is actually a poem I wrote a while back that I call "Cynthia and Melvin", named after two of my girlfriend's stuffed animals
Dropouts: Caleb, Damien, MK, Athena, Holden, Iko, Jill, Kobe, Matcha, Queen, Brook
Grads: Cody, Bowie, Zee, Fish, Jayshawn, Londyn, Stephen
Some quick OC descriptions:
Athena: orangey-blonde, orange contacts, black and white dress
Holden: long, scraggly hair, heavyset, short, leather jacket
Iko: slim-fat, short, stylish overcoat and vest
Jill: athletic build, red hair, tan skin, emerald green eyes
Kobe: tall, big afro
Matcha: brunette, business casual
Queen: purple hair
Fish: typical influencer look
Jayshawn: fit, muscular, dreads, gym tank/shorts
Londyn: brunette, face tattoos, gorgeous features
Stephen: early 2000s emo look
Mercutio: chiseled face, suit, wide-framed
Tracy: slim, suspenders/bowler hat
Brook: silver hair, oversized cardigan