Chapter Text
Danny huffs behind the stage curtain. Sydney is still chatting in his ear, general grumblings. If he had his way, Danny’s sure the only plays the school would do were old classics like Hamlet or Oklahoma!
“You have been making a racket all semester! I can’t haunt the halls after school in peace! Your props are in the way of our monthly sock hop.”
“Are you bullying me?”
“I am not bullying you. Bullies are mean.”
“You just called the thing I, and Ember, have dedicated months to as ‘a racket’. I’m insulted, Sydney.”
The ghost sputters.
“You’re forgiven,” Danny says. “I know you’re just sad you can’t have a ghost party. It’s only a weekend of performances. In less than a week, the set will be gone.”
Sydney floats over Danny’s shoulder as he peeks through the curtains. It’s opening night, and Danny is nervous. Ember has kept up his singing lessons, usually in human form, which he still doesn’t get. Some of her lessons were weird too; once she had Wulf take them to a cave system known for echoes just to yell into it.
Regardless, all the lessons paid off. Danny got the role of Hermes, to the disappointment of everyone rooting for him to get a role connected to death and the underworld, and while he’s still not thrilled about being in the school musical, he enjoys the extra credit points. He and Jazz will sometimes do kitchen karaoke too, bopping around the kitchen as they cook or need a study break.
Their go-to songs, of course, are Ember’s long list of singles she’d released since January. “Gives You Hell.” “Really Don’t Care” “Since U Been Gone”. “Irreplaceable”. “Maybe You’re The Problem.”
“Rumors”, the most recent, included a music video heavily suggesting Ember left Skulker to date Phantom. Skulker had been furious and immediately came to row, interrupting one of Danny’s rare lessons as Phantom. His sudden appearance disrupted Danny’s control on his wail, and Skulker had gotten a face full of sound before he’d pulled a gun out.
Ember had been so upset, but in a caring manner that had caught Danny off guard. “You were just getting used to the idea of being loud for nice reasons! And then he does this! He breaks up with me, he’s ruining my future concert, he’s ruining your joy!”
Danny let her rant, kicking Skulker’s torso, and slipped back where Sam and Tucker were watching, correctly guessing the lesson was over.
“Do we wanna ask?” Sam gestured out the window.
“I’m not sure I could answer.”
As unconventional as Ember’s lessons were, they did get Danny here. Not failing English, several songs in the school play, and absolutely second-guessing all of it.
“You’ll be fine,” Sydney says. “You’re not bad.”
“I didn’t think you listened to practices.”
“I live here! It’s hard to escape them. But it’s true. You’re not bad, ghost kid. I’m looking forward to Ember’s summer tour.”
There’d be a lot more people at those concerts than here, but-
Danny catches a flash of red hair and spots Jazz. She’s in the center of the auditorium, and next to her, as human-looking as Danny has ever seen, is Ember wearing a baseball cap and sunglasses. Next to Ember is Sam, then Tucker. They’ve all heard him sing these past few months, supporting him, encouraging him. And now that he 80% of the time doesn’t slip into a wail when he sings as Phantom, he wants to experiment a bit.
Ghosts aren’t human - what other sounds can he make? Can he mimic the roar of a solar flare? Sync his core beat to a pulsar?
He smiles at his friends and relaxes.
“You’ll be great,” Sydney says. “Just remember to sing loud. There are a few of us who are gonna float in the back corner. We don’t want to miss a word.”
The house lights flicker, indicating five minutes till start.
Danny shakes himself and steps back from the curtain. Once last sip of water. Once last cycle of breathing exercises. Three high school performances. Ten national concerts. Dozens of spotlights, all on him.
But that’s okay. The attention is on him because it’s supposed to be, so people can see him, hear him, applaud him. He’s eager to hear some cheers.
“Take your places!” Mr. Lancer says, eyes with that same star-shine glow as when he announced the play.
"Be loud," he mutters to himself as he finds his place on stage. Let people hear him, don't try to hide. Danny can be a star, loud and bright, for three minutes at a time.