Secret Patterns

13. Soft Questions, Sharp Edges

Mira slid in before the wave could crest. "It adds responsibility," she said. "To keep the performance about the music."

Abby nodded once, a hinge. "We're here to make a good stage."

"And have fun," Baby added, raising a straw like a toast. "I'm assigned to fun."

Zoey stole the straw midair and sipped. "He is. I audited the course."

"Rin?" the host tossed, gentle toss, sticky catch. "Fans are already calling your pre-chorus with Romance 'the spark.' Thoughts?"

A dozen cameras became one. Rin angled her chin to Camera B's sweet spot, where her face read as calm, not cold. "We're telling the same story with the same song," she said, threading needles. "If it sparks, it's the writing."

Romance didn't push. Not here. "And her count is clean."

The host pounced. "Her count?"

"Four," he said, smiling toward the lens as if it were a person he liked. "She lands the four. Anyone can hit one."

Rin kept her exhale small. She felt Zoey's fascination sharpen beside her; she felt Mira filing that comment under "Monitor later." Rumi's knee brushed Rin's briefly, a touch disguised as a shift.

"Let's talk behind the scenes," the host said brightly, sensing the moment cresting. "Any rituals you've discovered you share?"

"Counting," Mira said before romance-flavored words could return. She faced Abby, the angle a director's dream. "Breath counts."

"Box breathing," Abby supplied. "Four in, four hold, four out, four hold. It slows the room down."

"Unless Baby's in it," Zoey said.

Baby posed with tragedy. "I am a metronome of chaos."

Mystery's mic lifted, the smallest surprise. "Silence is a ritual," he said. The room went still in the pleasant way it does when a quiet person speaks. "Sometimes we stand near and don't speak. It helps."

The host blinked, recalibrated. "With who?"

Mystery's gaze cut, not to Zoey or Baby, but across the riser lane toward the mirror that reflected all of them as one long, odd troupe. "Whoever wants it."

"Poetic," the host breathed, pleased to have a quote for the thumbnail. "Okay! Game time."

Assistants delivered paddles: one side red, one silver. The host grinned. "This is 'Who's Most Likely.' Raise the color for the group you think fits the prompt. Ready?"

Groans. Stagey delight. The tally light stayed red.

"Who's most likely to be ready an hour early?"

Huntr/x paddles shot silver. Saja Boys paddles scattered; Abby's went silver, Jinu's red, Baby's spinning indecisively in the air until Zoey snatched it and fixed it silver.

Mira tilted her head at Abby. "Documented."

He tapped his watch once, teased by truth.

"Who's most likely to eat the last snack?"

Every paddle pointed at Baby, including Baby's, who looked proud.

"Who's most likely to forget choreo?"

Zoey pointed at Baby again; Baby pointed at Zoey; a free-for-all of fingers. The clip would loop endlessly that night; management would smile like they'd arranged it.

"Who's most likely to change blocking on the fly?"

Jinu flicked red without hesitation. Romance lifted red with a smirk. Rin almost raised nothing, then chose honesty and tilted hers red a few degrees. The choreographer off-camera grimaced and nodded at the same time.