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Joe, do you copy? *Beep*
Copy. *Beep*
The alley is cleared for the bus. *Beep*
Louis picked up the radio that one of the crew must have left in his dressing room by mistake.
Roger that, bringing the bus around. *Beep*
He flipped through the channels, catching random chatter of the venue security and their crew. Louis smirked. It had been a while since he’d played pranks on the crew and it wasn’t his fault someone carelessly left their radio in his dressing room. He clipped the radio to his jeans and walked down the hall to the green room.
“Hey, guys,” Louis said, plopping onto the couch next to Harry. Niall, Liam, and Zayn were huddled together on the other couch, watching some video on Liam’s phone. They hummed in greeting. The room was quiet tonight. The end of their tour was near and all the boys were drained.
“Hey, did you hear this venue is supposedly haunted?” Harry asked.
“Oh, is it?” Louis indulged.
“There’s an article. Says, ‘In October 1853, up-and-coming concert pianist Miss Margaret Wright was to make her debut. She was murdered by a rejected suitor moments before she took the stage. Visitors to the concert hall have reported cold spots, flickering lights, and rare sightings of a Victorian woman.’”
“You believe in ghosts?” Niall asked.
“Nah, but it is October. Adds to the spookiness.” Harry shrugged and went back to reading his article. The other boys turned back to the video on Liam’s phone. Louis, likewise, pulled out his phone.
10 minutes until end of set. *Beep* The radio cut through the quiet, startling the boys.
10-4. *Beep*
“What’s that?” Liam looked toward Louis, suspicion knitting his brow.
“Oh, this?” Louis brandished the radio. “Found it in my room. Thought it could be fun.” Louis winked.
Liam looked reluctant, but didn’t object. Louis pressed the button, and deepened his voice as he spoke. “Ghost spotted backstage. Repeat, ghost spotted backstage.”
After a few confused replies, he followed up, “False alarm. That’s just Niall’s pale arse.” Louis laughed.
“Hey!” Niall exclaimed, throwing a pillow at him.
Louis tried again, using a different voice. “Paul, do you copy?”
This is Paul. Copy. *Beep* came through the speaker, loud and clear.
Louis smiled devilishly. “Have you seen Casper?”
Who? *Beep*
“Casper the ghost,” Louis cackled.
Louis, get off the radio. *Beep* Paul sounded angry, even through the tinny speaker. Louis set the radio on the coffee table not wanting to actually get in trouble.
The radio crackled with static, breaking the silence in the room. Can I play for you? A dulcet feminine voice said. Louis stared at the once-again silent radio, unsure what to make of the strange request.
“You heard that right?” Liam asked worried, face pale.
“Come on, it’s probably one of the crew trying to get back at Louis for fucking with their radios,” Niall reasoned.
Minutes later, an assistant announced it was time to mic up. The boys filed out to the backstage and got ready for their concert.
They returned to the green room hours later, the post-show energy buzzing around them. They collapsed into the couches. Idle chatter and unrestrained laughter filled the room as they all came down from the adrenaline of performing.
A voice crackled through the radio on the coffee table, the same woman’s voice from earlier, unintelligible through the static. They all stilled. Niall shivered.
The voice spoke again, clearer. Can I play for you?
“Guys, it didn’t beep.” Liam eyes widened, terrified, staring at the radio as if it had spontaneously combusted.
“What do you mean?”
“Holy shit, it didn’t beep. It always beeped after responses.”
“Nah, probably just didn’t hear it.” Zayn said.
The lights in the green room flickered once. The boys froze. A piano played softly. Unfamiliar notes of a captivating melody spilled out from the radio. All the boys sat in silent disbelief, listening until the melody faded out.
Did you like it?
There was no beep.