Chapter Text
A tense silence hung in the space outside the Hexside Paranormatorium. The heavy wooden doors waited in anxious anticipation, and a glittering sign with looping letters, boldly showcasing the words "Ham-Lycan: a Hairy Situation ", stood with bated breath.
Suddenly, a cacophonous roar erupted from inside the theater. The doors burst open as theater-goers spilled out into the hall.
"That was incredible!" said one.
"How does she do it?" cried another.
"I've never seen anything like it!"
"Unbelievable!"
"Unachievable!"
"Why, it's the worst show I've ever seen!"
The crowd buzzed with impressed fervor. Not one of them could wrap their heads around the monstrosity they just experienced.
"Great Titan! Did you see the bit with the snorse race? I didn't even know you could fit that much mustard inside a water balloon."
"And that poor kid in the hellhound costume! He's going to be shaking gall-nuts out of his pants for weeks!"
Truly, it couldn’t have been worse. The music was off-key, the acting was, to put it nicely, Titan-awful, and the sets… Oh, the sets! Chunks of garbage and glitter thrown together in some horrible approximation of castle halls constantly on the verge of collapse.
The witches laughed, and began filing out through the exits. As they did, a girl with wild orange hair slammed through the doors. She wore a blue hand-stitched tuxedo and a matching fedora. One hand she shook high above her head, and the other held a crumpled program.
"That's right! Leave!" she called after the fleeing audience members, "And don't come back until you understand GENIUS, you tasteless hacks!"
She started to walk back into the theater, head hung low, before whipping back around and throwing the booklet towards the stragglers by the doors.
"King Claw-dius didn't die so you could misinterpret his character arc!"
"Eda!"
The girl turned around. Behind her stood a short, teal-haired witch in a Deadwardian costume. Even through the pungent yellow goo dripping down their face, Eda could see their tired, wet eyes.
"It's alright," they said, "It-- it was a dumb show and we were dumb for thinking they'd like it."
"But Raine…"
"Just drop it."
Eda wanted to say something, but Raine’s teary eyes made the words dry up in her mouth. She sighed.
"Fine. But for the record, I think the mustard balloons were pretty funny."
"Of course you do,” the witch muttered, “It was your idea."
"And don't you forget it!" She punched their padded, yellow-coated arm. "And hey, there's always next time, right? Bet next year's play will be even better!"
"Don't be so sure about that."
Raine and Eda jumped as a blue-furred goat demon plodded up beside them on four golden hooves.
"Oh! Professor Tumnus, I didn't see you there," Raine said, wiping tears and gunk from his face, "Is everything alright?"
“Yeah,” Eda said with a grin, “Why the long face, teach?” Raine giggled.
The professor, ignoring the comment, stood up on his back legs and readjusted his small half-moon glasses, as best he could with hooved hands, and fell back down. Eda was right about one thing, he did have a long face, and not just because he was a goat.
"I'm afraid there may not be a school play next year," he bleated, "The school has been going through budget cuts, and sadly it seems the Bard department is taking the brunt of the axe. This production was especially expensive. I mean, the griffin ballet alone…"
Raine side-eyed Eda. Her eyes wandered downward and oh look, those are some lovely shoes .
Tumnus stomped the ground in frustration, "No one respects the arts these days! But alas, the school simply cannot justify the cost the theater program accrues. Unless we can raise the funds ourselves, it's likely that Ham-lycan will be the last play to grace this auditorium."
The professor sadly clopped away, leaving the children behind. Eda turned to Raine.
They were staring down at the floor, eyes crinkled and ears drooping. Eda sifted through her mind, trying to find some words of comfort, but she came up empty.
"I guess that's it then," Raine sighed, "No more chances."
"Don't say that, Rainestorm!" Eda exclaimed, "We're gonna be famous in this school, you hear me! Everyone will know the names Edalyn Clawthorn and Raine Whispers, the Kings of Hexside Theater!"
"You heard the professor. We can't be the Kings of Hexside Theater without Hexside Theater! It's fine, I'll just… stick to music. It's probably for the best anyway."
"But if I could just come up with some sort of plan-"
"No more plans!" Raine shouted. Their face flushed red, and their knuckles went white as he balled his hands into fists.
"This whole Titan-damned play you kept coming up with more and more stupid plans and then the whole thing blew up and everyone hated it and now we don't even get another chance to make up for it. None of this would've happened if you stayed out of it!"
Eda shrunk back. "I thought we were having fun."
Raine sighed. "It was fun. But this was the one time I tried something outside of music and now I'll never get to do it again."
As they walked away to the school's front doors, they turned back to look at Eda one last time.
"Sorry, Eda. I guess you're just not a great producer."
Then they were gone.
Eda reached out a hand, but found her lips frozen in place. She looked at the sign she had painstakingly hand-painted, now scuffed with footprints and face-down on the tiles, through watery eyes.
She rubbed away the tears, and gritted her teeth.
"Just you wait, Whispers!" she shouted to the empty theater, "I'm gonna fix this, and when I do we'll put on the most spectacular show you've ever seen!"
She stormed out of the theater, slamming the doors behind her, and leaving a lone griffin in a tutu hanging from the rafters.