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Chapter Text

There's an old stage theater in the town of Seaside, Delaware. Some of the townspeople decided to fix it up and put on a play, the first one performed in that theater in years.

Some of them are actors. Some of them are set or prop or costume designers. Some of them handle the practical effects or sound design.

Some are young, and some are old. Some are male, some are female, and some are both or neither or something else entirely.

Some are fat, or fit, or thin, some are tall, or short, or average height. They've all got their own style, whether it's elegant, punk, sporty, or plain. It doesn't matter who you are, everyone of all ages and types is welcome at the old Seaside Theater.

If things go as planned, this might just be the best show Seaside has seen yet.

Chapter Text

“So what made you guys decide to spruce up the old theater and put on a play?”

The interviewees were two teenage boys around the same age. One, who went by Steven, was taller and chubbier, with a mop of dark brown curls atop his head, and wearing a pink and white varsity jacket, a black t-shirt with a bright yellow five-pointed star on the front, blue jeans, and pinkish-red flipflops. The other, Arlo, was shorter, thinner, and darker-skinned, with bright red hair in a pageboy cut and a style of dress that reminded one of Tom Sawyer.

“Well, this theater is a really big part of Seaside’s history. My friend Pearl says that it was built during the town’s founding. Besides, I always loved going there with my friends and my dad when I was a kid.”

“Plus, everyone loves musicals! Like us, all our friends, and my dad! He’s the richest man in town, and he bought the place and paid to have it fixed up all good as new.”

“That’s right. And we’ve gathered our friends and some other people we know to help prepare for the show we’re gonna put on.” Steven rubbed the back of his neck. “That is if we can decide on what we wanna do.”

A bald, overweight man in a black speedo said, “I’m just saying, I personally think George Washington’s character would be a lot better if he were super muscular with an eight-pack, and he also had laser vision.”

“His character?” a pale, stick-thin woman with a strawberry blonde coif asked. “George Washington was a real person from real history! Do you think people will want to hear about how the first president of the United States actually shot laser beams from his eyes and had an eight-pack?!”

“I’d see that play,” a shorter woman with long, dyed light purple hair said.

“Yeah, me too!” a girl in a red hoodie said.

“Amethyst, Alia, your input isn’t helping.”

“I see you’ve got your work cut out for you.”

“Yeah, but I’m sure we’ll be ready by this Saturday.”

“That’s when we’re s’posed ta put on our big show to save the theater and keep the town council from turnin’ it into a credit union or something!”

“They say the hardest part of the creative process is coming up with a good idea. So if we’re able to get that step done, everything else should be a breeze. Hopefully.”

“I just know that this is gonna be the best show ever!”

“Can I ask you guys something?”

Steven put his arm around Arlo. “Of course! You are interviewing us after all.”

“What ideas did you have for the play?”

“Well, I wanted to put on a show about Camp Pining Hearts. A lot of our friends really like that show. Peridot in particular really, really likes it.”

“An’ I thought we could make it a musical~!” Arlo sang that last word.

Steven chuckled. “Yeah, he kinda does that a lot. Anyway, everyone else’s ideas sound really good. I don’t know which one to go with.”

“Well, a Camp Pining Hearts musical sounds interesting. I’ll have to see what ideas the rest of your friends have for the play.”

Chapter Text

“What ideas did you have for the play?”

The first interviewee who spoke, Bertie, was a teenage girl who was as tall as she was wide, which was to say, very. Her light brown hair was tied into twin braids, and she wore black sandals and a straw-colored dress. Her chubby cheeks were dotted with freckles.

“Well, I didn’t really have any particular ideas specifically. I mean, I’m sure that whatever we decide to do, it’ll turn out pretty good. Sorry, I’m not very good at this interview thing.”

“That’s okay. Just keep talking. I promise you’re doing fine.”

“Okay. Well, Steven and Arlo seem to have some kind of idea about what the play is gonna be. They both seem to want it to be a musical. I mean, who doesn’t like musicals?”

“Eeeehhhhh…”

“Do you have something to say, Marcellus?”

“I mean, musicals are okay. Nothing I’d go out of my way to see, but they’re alright.”

“Anyway, I’m mostly just going along with the whole thing because I like spending time with my friends. Besides, helping with stagework is kind of meditative for me. That’s where I feel most comfortable. I don’t really like the idea of actually going on stage in front of all those people. That’s more Arlo’s territory.”

“So, how long have you known Arlo?”

“Almost a year, I think. We first met when he was going to live with his dad after staying with his foster mom for 15 years, but that’s not what we’re here to talk about. You can go ahead and ask what everyone else thinks.”

“Ooh! Can I talk about my idea?”

“Sure. Go ahead.”

This interviewee, Alia, was a smaller girl, though still the same age as the previous three. She wore a red cat-eared hoodie, black leggings with a skirt, and white and cyan sneakers. Her dark skin was marred with markings that somewhat resembled tiger stripes. She seemed to talk a mile a minute.

“Okay, so I was thinking we could do an adaptation of Alice in Wonderland that takes place in an underground civilization in Ecuador. Well, I actually have a lot of ideas for the show this weekend, but it’s hard for me to focus on just one. You know, ADHD?”

“Yeah, I understand.”

“Yeah. My dad says that I’m like ‘a fruit fly on caffeine’ in his own words.”

Then the purple-haired woman came in carrying a box of donuts. “ Heyyyy! Who wants donuts!”

“Ooh! Donuts! I hope you got jelly-filled!” Alia raced over and indulged. “What was I talking about?”

“Your idea for the play, and how it’s hard for you to focus on one thing due to your ADHD?”

“Oh yeah. Well, I could keep talking about all of my ideas if I wanted to, but I think it’d be better if someone else said something. Dad, you have a pretty good idea!”

Alia’s father, Tony, was a very small man with black, slicked-back hair and a handlebar mustache which his buck teeth stuck out from underneath. His skin is lighter than that of his daughter, and when he spoke, he had a heavy Brooklyn accent.

“I had an idea to put on an autobiographical play about my life in Little Italy and how I came to found Tony’s Pizza.”

“That sounds interesting.”

“I’ve lived a very fascinating life, full of adventure, drama, and crime!”

“Crime?”

“That’s right. I’ve been a con artist with Marcellus, Felicia, and Alia for years before settling down in Seaside and founding my pizzeria.”

“You involved your daughter in your con artist business?”

Alia was the next one who spoke. “I was the getaway driver! I still had my learner’s permit at the time, but I was super great.”

“Yeah. Anyway, we’re all past that now. We’ve got upstanding jobs that pay better than scams. And I’ll bet we could get even more money if the show goes well.”

“We’ll have to see about that.”

“Tony, baby, I hate to tell you this, but literally no one wants to see a play about your life.”

“Whaddya mean?”

“I’m saying people wanna see something with a little more flair!”

“Would you like to tell us about your idea?”

“Oh, I thought you’d never ask!”

This interviewee, Felicia, was a rotund woman with bright pink, poofy hair done up in pigtails. She wore a lot of makeup and the trendiest attire. In general, she looked to have a really strong fashion sense.

“Well, I thought instead of a play, maybe we could have a fashion show. What do you think?”

“Sounds interesting.”

“Yeah! I’m still in the designing phase for everyone’s outfits, but I just know that the final product will be stunning .” They took out some blueprints for some intricate dresses and suits. “See?”

“I see. Those look pretty nice.”

“Aw, thanks! I try my best. I’m a hairdresser at the beauty salon down the street.”

“Yeah, blah blah blah, great, Felicia, nobody cares about your fashion thing.”

“Excuse me?”

“I know what the people really want.”

Felicia crossed their arms. “Uh-huh. And what would that be?”

Marcellus was a mostly bald, overweight, middle-aged man dressed only in a black speedo. His eyebrows were thick, and the little hair he had left on his head was dyed blue and styled in a bad mullet.

“I had an idea to put on a play about the founding of our country, and how George Washington liberated his people from the King of England.”

“So like Hamilton?”

“A little like Hamilton, yeah. Except in my play, George Washington is totally ripped and has superpowers, like flight and laser vision. I have the lead role, of course.”

“No offense, but you don’t really look the type.”

“Hey! I’m perfect for the role. Look at me.” He flexed in an attempt to look more muscular than he actually was.

“Yeah, I’m not really seeing it.”

Everyone else that was present made various sounds of agreement.

“Fine. You know what? You can go interview Steven’s friend group for all I care.” Marcellus walked away while muttering, “No one here understands good ideas when they hear ‘em.”

Chapter Text

“So what ideas did you guys have for the play?”

“I was thinking we could go with a metaphor for how the working class is put down by the man.”

Amethyst was a stout young woman dressed in a purple tank top and black leggings with stars cut out the knees. Her long, waist-length hair was dyed light purple, and the boots she wore on her feet were white. She also had a tattoo of a purple gemstone on her chest that her tank top obscured slightly.

“So, for the plot, I was thinking there was this pack of pack mules, right?”

“Mules live in herds, Amethyst. Not packs.”

Amethyst rolled her eyes. “Whatever, Pearl. Anyway, there’s this HERD of pack mules that lives under the rule of this big fat guy in a bad toupee that owns a platinum mine.”

“Does the fat guy own the platinum mine, or does the toupee?”

“The fat guy. Anyway, the pack mules are sick of lugging around heavy sacks of platinum all day, so they form a rebellion to overthrow the fat guy and start a new era of equality for everyone! Where no one will have to work all day without a break. And everyone gets to eat churros and hot tamales for the rest of their days.”

“That sounds interesting.”

“Well, I wanted to do an adaptation of one of William Shakespeare’s plays.”

The woman who spoke next was a broomstick of a woman who wore a cyan blouse, khakis, pink stockings, and slip-on shoes. Her strawberry blonde hair was styled in a neat coif, and her skin was chalk white. Unlike Amethyst, Pearl carried herself more poised and tidy.

“Everyone is familiar with Shakespeare’s work. You could even say that he was the greatest writer in the English language, as well as the most influential. Did you know that he invented over 1,700 new words and expressions?”

“That’s fascinating.”

“Isn’t it? Plus, an adaptation of one of Shakespeare’s famous plays would make more sense than Amethyst’s nonsensical idea for a play.”

“Hey! My play makes perfect sense!”

“Last time I checked, mules didn’t eat churros or hot tamales.”

“It’s just a play. Who cares?”

“What matters is that we should just pick something before Saturday.”

The woman who spoke, Garnet, was taller than both of them, with a lean muscular build. She wore a red jacket and reflective sunglasses, as well as a gray sports bra, a pair of blue jeans, red fingerless gloves, and black zip-up boots.

“Did you have any ideas?”

“Connie and I thought we could go with Steven’s idea, and put on a play based on Camp Pining Hearts. The original from the 1980’s. Nobody likes the reboot.”

A small, bespectacled young woman wearing green spoke up. “The reboot is the worst show ever made!”

“One of the worst, anyway,” a dark-skinned girl about Steven’s age, Connie, said. “It still isn’t nearly as bad as the Netflix adaptation of DogCopter. Why is it that companies always want to ruin our beloved franchises?”

“I don’t know,” A blue-haired young woman said without looking up from the magazine she was reading.

“So, it looks like three people like the Camp Pining Hearts idea. Why don’t you guys go with that one?”

“Sounds like a plan,” Garnet said.

“Now, Garnet, I really think more people would like to see an adaptation of one of Shakespeare’s most famous plays. I’d personally like to adapt Macbeth.”

Amethyst gave a derisive snort. “More like Macbore, am I right?”

Marcellus laughed. “Yeah.”

“I mean, I wouldn’t mind seeing another adaptation of Shakespeare,” Bertie said. “even if those have already been done multiple times.”

“Hey. Shakespeare’s works are popular,” Tony said. “And popular means big money.”

“Do y’all really think people’ll wanna see the same stuff they’ve already seen a million times?” Felicia asked. “Honey, they want something fresh and experimental!”

“Alright, then. Let’s have a vote,” Steven said. “Everyone who wants a Camp Pining Hearts musical, raise your hand.”

Nine hands shot up in the air, including Steven’s own.

“Now everyone who wants to do an adaptation of Shakespeare, raise your hand.”

Only three hands were raised.

“Now who wants to go with Marcellus’ play?” Marcellus asked in a rather poor imitation of Steven’s voice. “Thank you, Steven. That sounds like a great idea.”

“Marcellus, nobody’s gonna go with your idea, and you know it,” Tony said unamused.

“Okay. So it looks like CPH the Musical is the winner.”

“What a shame. I was really looking forward to doing Macbeth.”

“Maybe next time, Pearl.”

“So it looks like you’ve got your idea for a play now. Now you just need to get everything else settled.”

“Will do. We’ll let you know how things go.”

“Good luck.”

Chapter Text

A few days later, Steven finished the final draft of the script for Camp Pining Hearts the Musical, with a few suggestions from his friends added in. Everyone who auditioned for an acting role was given a copy that they’ll have to follow.

A few of the actors for Camp Pining Hearts the musical stood around the theater, rehearsing their parts of the script. One particular actor had tannish skin and long, dark hair, and was rather tall with a muscular form. This was Stefani, the person who was cast to play Pierre.

“Hey, do you have time for an interview?”

“Yeah, I guess so. I’ve never really been interviewed before.”

“Okay, so, you’re playing the role of Pierre in Camp Pining Hearts the Musical, right?”

“Yeah!”

“And how do you feel about that?”

“Well, I haven’t really watched a lot of the original series, so I don’t really know the character of Pierre all that well. But I think I’ll do an okay job. Lars wanted to play Pierre, but I think Steven said something about him not being physically fit enough for the role.”

A skinny, tan-skinned young man with a fluffy pink mohawk, ear gauges, and a scar under his right eye walked over. “I’m over it mostly. I think Stefani will do fine, even if they’re not that familiar with the series.”

Stefani then gave him a hug which lifted him off his feet. “Aw, thank you, Lars!”

“Yeah. Don’t mention it. Could you put me down?”

“Oh, yeah, sorry.” Stefani set Lars back on the wooden floor of the stage. “So, anyway, Pierre is apparently really athletic, and I’m athletic too, so I guess that’s why I was picked for that part.”

“The script is an adaptation of the Color War arc in season 1. Apparently, that’s Steven’s favorite arc in the whole show. Personally, I prefer the Scavenger Hunt arc from season 3.”

“So who are you gonna be playing?”

“Well, I’m probably gonna play Patterson. I see a lot of myself in him. You know, in season 1, he’s an insecure beanpole who acts like a jerk to get people to like him, and then as the series progresses he becomes nicer and more confident in himself. Kinda like me.”

“I see. Well, I’m sure you’ll do great.”

“Thanks.”

Then Pearl came over. “I was cast to play the role of Paulette, since apparently, I sound like her. Honestly, I don’t hear it.”

“Come on, Pearl,” Amethyst said. “You sound just like Paulette!”

“Do I? I don’t know about that.”

“Sure you do! You just gotta talk a little more like this~. ” Amethyst spoke in a high, flowery voice resembling the character on the Camp Pining Hearts show.

Pearl snorted and shoved her playfully. “I’m not doing that voice for the play!”

“Why not? It fits the character perfectly! ”

“Are you gonna be playing anyone, Amethyst?”

“I’ll prob’ly play Percy. He’s supposed to be a real hit with the ladies. Especially his girlfriend, Paulette.”

Pearl blushed and waved her off.

“No offense, Amethyst, but you’re not exactly fit for the role of Percy. And Paulette is not Percy’s girlfriend!”

The small woman who entered, Peridot, had light blonde hair in an odd triangular style and wore a green hoodie with dark green leggings, as well as round-rimmed glasses with a slight yellowish tint in the lenses.

“Are you playing anyone in the show?”

“Oh, no. I’ll be working backstage as a stage technician. Technology is my strong suit. Well, aside from gardening, modern art, the theremin, and lots of other things. But technology is my biggest strong suit.”

“I see. What will you be working on specifically? ”

“Probably lighting and loading and unloading scenery. Meanwhile, my very good friend, Lapis, is a prop designer.”

“What can I say? I like art.”

Lapis was a petite young woman (though still taller than Amethyst and Peridot) with short-cropped hair that was dyed dark blue. She wore an ocean-patterned crop top and blue denim shorts, as well as gold sandals. The tattoo on her back depicted a blue, teardrop-shaped cabochon with wings made of water on either side.

“I’m getting my fine arts degree at Seaside Community College right now. I’m thinking of transferring to one of those fancy art academies in New York City. Though it’ll probably be really expensive, and I’ll miss all my friends.” Lapis turned to look at Peridot. “Especially Peridot.”

Peridot smiled and walked over to give her a hug. “Anyway, yeah. I’m a prop designer, so that should be fun.”

Amethyst crossed her arms. “Yeah, cool, so who’s gonna be playing Percy if I’m not fit to?”

“I thought we already agreed Jamie would,” Steven said. “He’s probably the best person we know for the role.”

“The thespian’s blood runs in my veins! I think this could be my big break!” Jamie was an older, though still young, man with an olive complexion and short brown hair. He had a rather prominent nose and thick eyebrows.

“Have you tried acting in the past?”

“I’ve auditioned for a few movie roles in Kansas, but being rejected day after day ate away at my pride, so I settled for being a mail person instead. It’s a good job, the pay is decent, my coworkers are friendly. But my real dream is to become an actor!”

“I kind of figured from how you said the thespian’s blood runs in your veins.”

“...Right. Well, anyway, I’m sure I’ll make a great Percy, and I’m sure Camp Pining Hearts the Musical will be just the right thing to save this old theater!”

“Yeah!”

“I certainly hope so!”

“This is gonna be great!”

“It should be fun at least.”

Chapter Text

Backstage, the various designers for the sets, props, and costumes were hard at work. Bertie was carrying a big box of what was assumed to be supplies.

“Is that box full of stuff for the play?”

“Yeah. Mostly just craft stuff. Acrylics, wood glue, fake foliage. We also got a few things from the local antique shop that’ll serve as props.” She set the box down on the floor and pulled out a blue and yellow woven bracelet. “This is gonna be Paulette’s friendship bracelet that she gives to Percy.”

“That looks nice.”

“Yeah, I know. Steven picked it out. It looks just like the one on the show, doesn’t it? I think so.”

“Hey, Bertie. Who are you talking to?”

“I’m just talking to the person interviewing us.”

“That’s cool.”

“Can I talk with you?”

“Sure.”

“So, what made you want to help out with the play?”

“Well, we’re all interested in theater.” One of the stagehands being interviewed, Adora, was a tall, muscular young woman with long, dirty blonde hair tied in a ponytail and the most radiant blue eyes you’d ever seen. “Um, am I doing this right? I’ve never taken part in an interview before, so…”

“You’re doing great. Keep talking.”

“Okay. Um, well, I actually got into theater thanks to Glimmer and Beau and their friends.”

“And she tried to rope me into it with her, but I didn’t want anything to do with it. Only nerds like theater.” The other woman who was leaning against her shoulder, Cyra, was slightly smaller, with darker skin and hair. Freckles sprinkled her cheeks, and there were dark burn scars on her arms, which she always kept bare, as if she wanted to show them off. Her dark brown locks were cut short, and her right eye was a pigmentless blue in contrast to her left eye, which was a golden hazel color.

Adora smiled at her. “Come on, we both know you would’ve liked it if you just gave it a chance.”

Cyra smiled back. “That’s what I was afraid of.”

“So, how long have you two known each other?”

“Pretty much our entire lives.”

“We were both in foster care under this evil bitch named Beatrix Weaver.”

“Cyra!”

“What? She was an evil bitch!”

Adora shifted uncomfortably and squeezed Cyra’s hand. “Well, she was physically and emotionally abusive to Cyra while we were both living with her. And me too, but only emotionally.”

“She would beat the shit out of me for some of the most trivial things, and then blame Adora for not keeping a closer eye on me or whatever. The old hag never laid a hand on her because apparently, she was ‘closer to God’s image’ or some shit; blonde hair, blue eyes, lighter skin. So she was her favorite.” Cyra rubbed her arm up and down. “I have to admit, I kinda resented her for a long time for that. I lashed out.”

Adora put both hands on Cyra’s shoulders. “Come on, you were just a kid back then.”

“So were you! It wasn’t right of me to take everything out on you.” A sigh. “Anyway, we both hightailed out of there once we turned eighteen. Adora moved in with Sparkles, and I joined the army.”

“We stayed in contact during that time, mostly through phone calls or letters. She even came back to visit me on occasion.”

Cyra smiled at her. “It was not because I like you. I just thought you were worried about me.”

Adora wrapped her arms around Cyra’s waist. “And because you missed seeing my face.”

“Okay, yeah. Your face is pretty great too.” The two women shared a kiss before Cyra turned her attention back to the interviewer. “I know what you’re thinking. Yeah. We’re totally dating.”

“We were technically foster sisters, but we never really saw each other as sister sisters.”

“Besides, Beatrix saw us more as tools for her little cult than her daughters.”

“Cult?”

“Yeah. Did I mention we were also part of a religious cult? The leader is apparently dead now, and so’s our old lady. Good riddance.”

Adora cleared her throat. “Uh, Cy, I think we might be veering dangerously off-topic.”

“Oh. Yeah, anyway, after a bunch of prodding from Adora’s little friend group, I finally joined in. It’s not so bad.”

“What are you doing for the play?”

“I’m probably gonna be an actor. My therapist says roleplaying would be a good outlet for my anger issues. I auditioned for the role of Persephone since she’s apparently the mean girl of the original CPH.”

“Honestly, Persephone is my least favorite character in the 1989 series,” a young blonde woman in a pink sundress said as she walked over with a basket of flowers. “She was always so hateful. ”

“I kinda liked watching Persephone,” Lapis countered. “She was the worst kind of person in the best way. And besides, she still got her comeuppance sometimes.”

“She certainly had the most personality compared to the other pieces of cardboard on that show, that’s for sure.”

“So, what are you doing?”

“Me? Well, I’m in charge of building the sets!” Bismuth stood tall and proud, the tank top and overalls xe wore barely concealing the bulging muscle underneath. Xir dreadlocks were dyed various colors of the rainbow, and xe had a shooting star tattoo on xir left bicep.

“And how’s that going?”

“It’s going pretty well so far! We already got the setting for the camp exterior done.”

One of the standees that was built fell over, causing Bismuth to flinch. “Sorry!”

“Yeah. Anyway, we’ve got this.”

And then a billow of gray smoke wafted up in the background.

“What the hell?!”

“I got it!” A portly middle-aged man with long, brown hair that thinned at the top of his head ran over with a fire extinguisher and put out the fire.

Bismuth looked a little less confident. “Uh, yeah… we totally got this.”

The man put a hand on xir shoulder. “I’m sure the play’ll turn out just fine. If every pork chop were perfect, we wouldn’t have hotdogs.”

“Man, now you’re making me hungry.”

“Didn’t you just have lunch, Hunk?”

“What’s your point?”

“Anyway, we should be in great shape with me takin’ charge.” Bismuth jabbed a thumb towards xirself. “I’m an architect. Well, at least I’m studying to be one. Right now I’m workin’ as an auto mechanic. I also do blacksmithing as a hobby.”

“That’s cool.”

“Yeah! I’m thinkin’ I could make some metal props for any more plays we do if this one is a success.”

“Maybe you could.”

“And maybe I could make some props out of flowers!” The woman with the flower basket took out a flower crown. “I already made some crowns for the play we’re doing right now.”

“I don’t think they make flower crowns at all during the Color War arc, Tara,” Lapis said.

Tara set the flower crown she was holding on top of Lapis’ head. “Well, they should! Flower crowns make everything better.”

“But there’s no mention of flower crowns in the script!” Peridot said. “We can’t just go off-script for the play we need to save Seaside Theater with!”

“Don’t worry, Peridot,” Steven said. “It’s not like the whole play will be ruined if the characters wear flower crowns for one scene. Besides, as long as I’m in charge, things are sure to run totally smoothly.”

“We’ll see about that.”

Steven cleared his throat nervously. “Yeah. We will.”

Chapter Text

“So what do you think of the upcoming play?”

“I think it’s gonna be great!” This interviewee was a skinny girl in her early teens, with her powder pink hair tied back in a spiky ponytail. Her name was Kipo, and she was helping with sound design. “I don’t know a lot about the source material, or really about play production in general, but I’m sure it’s gonna be great.”

“You seem to be pretty optimistic about this.”

“Yeah! I mean, it kinda has to be great if we don’t want the theater to be shut down.”

“So we’re gonna make it the best we can,” a teenage boy wearing a cat sweater and a green baseball cap said. “With us helping with sound design, the music’s gonna be total fire!”

“Hell yeah it is!” A squat little man with a tiny mustache and a green and purple tracksuit put his arm around him. “My little cousin’s a DJ.”

“Well, I have made a few songs for my Bandcamp, but we’re not really here to talk about that. Kipo really knows how to play music too.”

Kipo twirled her ponytail with her fingers. “I mean…”

“Girl, come on! I’ve never seen a 13-year-old shred a guitar like you.”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right. I’m still nowhere near as good as Luna, or Greg.”

A smaller girl of about ten years old wearing a tattered wolf hoodie reached up and put a hand on Kipo’s shoulder. “Greg’s been making music way longer than everyone here. Of course he’s gonna be amazing at it.”

“That’s why Steven put him in charge of sound design,” Peridot said. “Just like how I was put in charge of the technology aspect of stage production because I’m amazing at tech.”

A small, olive-skinned woman in her late twenties to early thirties looked up from the tablet she was staring at. She was dressed in black overalls and gloves and her long, long hair, so dark that it appeared to be purple, was tied in twintails. “It actually makes the most logical sense that I should be in charge of the tech, since I’ve been working with tech the longest. I’ve had an interest in science and technology ever since I was a kid! In fact, that’s how I met my husband, Hector! We both graduated from the STEM program!”

“Okay, that’s nice and all, Estra, but we really need to focus on making sure everything is working well for the play this Saturday. We don’t really have time to keep talking about ourselves or our significant others.”

Estra and Peridot walked away. “Okay. We’ll talk more later probably.”

“Okay. I look forward to it. So, where’s Greg? Can I get an interview with him?”

“I think he went to get us some pizza for lunch,” Steven said. “Hey, Benson, how’s the music coming along?”

“Pretty good so far! We thought we’d go with a bit of an indie folk-rock sound to fit with the camp setting. Listen to this.” Benson played a sample of the music composed before the audio suddenly started glitching out, and he quickly hit stop.

“What happened?”

“I don’t know! It sounded just fine a minute ago.”

“Hey, guys!” Enter the long-haired man from earlier. “Pizza’s right downstairs if any of you want some.”

“Great! Thanks, Dad!” Steven and the rest headed down to help themselves.

“Yeah, thanks, Mr. Universe!” “Thank you!” “Thanks a lot, Greg!”

“So, Greg, can I ask you how you feel about the upcoming play?”

“I really don’t know to be honest. On the one hand, most of us haven’t had any real experience putting on a theater production as far as I know, and none of us were really given enough time to make this play as great as it probably should be, but on the other, everyone seems to be really putting their all into it.”

“And how do you feel about being in charge of sound design?”

“It’s great! It’s almost like being back in the music biz.”

“Oh. You were in the music business?”

“Yeah! I’ll bet you didn’t know I was one of the biggest rock stars of the eighties! At least I was gonna be before I met Steven’s mom, Rose. Don’t get any ideas. It was totally worth it.”

“So is she helping out with the play?”

Greg rubbed the back of his neck. “Uh, no. She’s… not around anymore.”

“...Right. I’m so sorry to hear that.”

“Yeah, well, we’re all doing what we can. Anyway, I’m sure this play’s gonna turn out pretty good if we all pull together.”

“If every pork chop were perfect, we wouldn’t have hotdogs, right?”

“Yeah. Exactly. Although, with how things are going right now, it might be kinda difficult, but I think it’ll be okay. I guess we’ll just have to see where things go.”

Lapis: “What happened to the brush I was just using?”

Steven: “Would everyone please stick to the script?”

Pearl: “This wouldn’t be happening if we all agreed to do Shakespeare!”

“I think I agree with that statement. Thank you for your time, Greg.”

“Yeah. No problem.”

Chapter Text

“Okay, now let’s take it from the top!”

Arlo sang a few notes, and the lead actors sang along with him.

“That was great! Lars, you were a little flat, but everyone else, good job! We’ll be ready for our first show in no time!”

“So, Arlo, what’s going on here?”

“We’re just doin’ some vocal warm-ups. We all wanna sound our best fer the play, don’t we?”

The actors made various gestures of agreement.

“Are you playing anyone?”

“Nah, I kept flubbin’ up the lines when readin’ the script, so Steven made me a vocal coach instead.”

“Hey, Arlo! How are vocal warm-ups coming along? Good?”

“They’re goin’ pretty good so far! Lars still needs a little more practice, but aside from that, we’re just fantastic!”

“Eh, I’ve never really been much of a singer,” Lars said with a shrug of his shoulders.

“C’mon, everyone’s a singer! You just gotta find your voice. Sing with me; do-re-mi-fa-so-la-ti-do.”

Lars weakly sang back, “Do-re-mi-fa-so-la-ti-do.”

“Okay, that was good. Just keep practicin’.”

“So much for Lars as Patterson,” Cyra remarked.

“Hey! I’m a great Patterson!”

“Say what you want, dear, but you’ll never be as great an actor as me.” A tall, slender, androgynous-looking person wearing green eyeshadow and dark, skin-tight clothes flipped their long, bleached blonde hair.

“What–”

“Hey, I know! Arlo’s a great singer, but a sub-par actor. Lars can act, but he’s tone-deaf. So, Arlo can sing in Lars’ place.”

“What?”

“Yeah! You can sing, and Lars can lip-sync over you!”

“I dunno. Havin’ Lars lip-sync my voice, wouldn’t that be cheating?”

“I wouldn’t call it cheating, more like… cutting corners to get our product out as quickly as possible.”

“I mean, didn’t Milli Vanilli get busted for that in the eighties?” Amethyst asked while wearing a tree costume.

“Well, this is different. We’re on an incredibly tight schedule.”

“I don’t understand why you couldn’t just make me Patterson. I’m the best actor here, hello!”

“We get it, Bex. You think you’re an amazing actor,” a short, stocky young woman with a lot of pink and purple on her said.

“I don’t just think I am, sweet Glimmer. I know I am, and you know it too.”

Glimmer just rolled her eyes.

“So, Glimmer, what are your feelings on the play?”

“Well, I mean, everyone seems pretty optimistic about it, but I don’t know.”

A dark-skinned young man with an exposed midriff hugged her from behind. “Come on, Glimmer. I’m sure it’ll be fine. Besides, at least if things don’t go exactly as planned, it’ll still be a lot of fun!”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right.” She stood on her tippy-toes to kiss him on the cheek. “So, anyway, most of our friends seem optimistic. A lot of us are pretty big fans of theater.”

“Especially me,” Bex cut in.

“Especially Bex. Anyway, I originally got into theater so I could get away from my mom. I love her, but she was always so stifling. My dad went missing in action when I was very little, so she became overprotective.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

“I had issues with my own parents too. My dads basically had my whole life planned out, wanted me to be a scholar like them. But I’m an athlete at heart. I like sports. I like moving around. And I especially love archery. They just didn’t really understand that, you know?”

“I can relate.”

“Yeah. But they came around eventually.”

“So anyway, Beau and I have been friends basically forever, and we both found theater as a way to catch a break from our regular lives. We’ve met a lot of great people through the one at our old school. Tara, Elaysia, Jeoff, and of course, Adora, although she was homeschooled by her foster mom.”

“She’s basically the best stagehand we know. Seriously, I don’t know how we could’ve pulled some shows off without her.”

Then it was Cyra’s turn to cut in. “It’s not hard to be a great stagehand with those muscles.” Then she leaned into the interviewer’s direction as if telling a juicy secret. “Seriously, she could totally bench press at least half of these people.”

“And maybe you can go and ask her to bench press you instead of butting in.” Glimmer pushed her away.

“Seriously, I think this’ll go really well!” Steven said. “No one will know.”

Arlo replied with, “I still don’t know if we should.”

“Of course not,” Bex said. “What you should do is make me Patterson instead of Lars. I can actually act and sing!”

“I thought you were already the acting coach,” Lars quipped. “I would never guess otherwise with how you’re always criticizing everyone else’s acting.”

“Garnet is the acting coach,” Steven said. “She’s very good at teaching, so she’s the best person I know for the position.”

“And how is that going?”

“Pretty well. Everyone who’s an actor seems to have learned everything they need for the big premiere.”

“Hopefully everything will get straightened out by Saturday,” Glimmer said.

“It will all be worthwhile once they see me take the stage,” Bex grinned.

Lars crossed his arms in irritation. “I’m sure it will.”

Chapter Text

“Now let’s try it again.”

The actors being coached all ran around flailing and screaming, a few of them even stopping, dropping, and rolling as if they were on fire.

“Good job. It’s like you really are on fire.”

“I see. They’re very convincing.”

“Hey. It’s good to see you again.”

“So it looks like everyone here is just about ready for the show, huh?”

“Almost everyone. We’ve got some people who still don’t want to follow the exercises.”

A stocky teenage girl with a blonde ponytail was dancing in the background. “It’s interpretive dance! Don’t stifle my artistic expression!”

Enter Lapis. “Hey, I still can’t find my brush.”

Enter Tara. “I also can’t find the flower crowns I just made. I know I couldn’t have misplaced them. I left them near the fake trees that were built.”

Enter a different, skinnier teenage blonde wearing sunglasses on her head and a seafoam dress. “Like, I can’t find my fabric scissors either. Who do you think is taking all our stuff?”

“Um, Leni. Your fabric scissors are in your hand.”

Leni looked down at her hand, where sure enough, the scissors were held. “Oh, yeah! Then, like, who’s taking everyone else’s stuff?”

“Looks like we got ourselves a mystery on our hands.”

“Well, it needs to be solved quickly if we wanna get this play finished.”

“Tara, Lapis, did either of you notice anything suspicious?”

“No, not really.”

“Maybe I should ask around and see if I find something.” The interviewer headed back to the prop station before Steven came and stopped them.

“Wait. You don’t need to do anything. We’ve got everything under control. You can just hang out back here and ask everyone questions about what they’ve got going on for the play like you were before.”

“I can do that while I ask about the missing supplies.” And the interviewer went on their way.

“Hi. Did any of you happen to see anything suspicious going on back here? I heard some supplies have been going missing.”

“I didn’t really notice anything that weird,” Bertie started as she put down another box of supplies. “But there was this one really skinny lady who was hanging around over here. She looked really anxious, then she bolted off when I tried to talk to her.”

“I see.”

“I actually think I saw her take something, but I can’t be sure.” The next speaker was an average-looking teenage boy with brown hair and a pointy nose. This was Wirt. “She’s always so quick. I don’t know if anybody can catch her.”

“Oh! If I may ask, what are your thoughts on Camp Pining Hearts the Musical?”

“Well, I’ve never been the most avid watcher of teen dramas, but I do have an interest in theater, not necessarily of the musical variety. I originally auditioned for an acting role, but Steven didn’t think I was fit to play anybody. Which is just a nice way of saying that I’m not a good actor, which is fine. Costume design is okay too.”

“Cheer up, Wirt,” a younger brunet of the age of six or seven years holding a large, green frog piped up. “Maybe you can act in the next play you guys put on!”

“Greg, what are you doing back here? I thought I told you to go play with the other kids.”

“I wanted to help you with making costumes! Whose costume is that you’re working on?”

“It’s just the costume for one of the background scouts, and I don’t need your help right now. If I need help with something, I’ll let you know.”

“Okay.” The younger Greg walked off with his frog in his arms. “Come on, Jason Funderburker.”

“Sorry about him. He’s my brother.”

“I understand. I’ll leave you to your work now.”

Then there was a loud, high-pitched scream that rang out through the back of the theater and stopped everyone in their tracks.