With the beginning of another school year, the competition inside the walls of NYSPA is stronger than ever as a small group of students decides to revive the disbanded show choir club.
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SEASON ONE, EPISODE ONE
PILOT
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A.J.
A.J. FLEETWOOD WAS HAVING THE TIME OF HER LIFE.
Here's why.
It was opening night, and the curtains had just closed.The roaring thunder of applause had filled the Eugene O'Neill Theatre, echoing inside the walls, and, at that moment, she knew that was exactly what she wanted to do for the rest of her life. Her fingers still trembled from the vibrations coming from the band, her thigh-high socks were sliding down her legs, and her curls clung to the sweaty skin of her face and neck, but she knew.
There's always that moment in your life when you realize what you were born to do. At that moment, A.J. knew she had found where she belonged—she belonged on the Broadway stages, belting out high notes, suffering while waiting to know whether she had been cast on a musical, rehearsing until her vocal cords felt numb.
A pair of strong hands held her shoulders, pulling her out of her stupor, and she blinked to let her eyes get used to the change in lighting. Standing and towering in front of her, was Nick St. Martin, the Melchior to her Wendla, the one person in the entire cast who knew her better than she knew herself.
"Can you hear that?" he asked, beaming, and his face shone like the sun. "The screaming, the applause . . . all of that out there, on the other side of the curtain? It's all for us."
A.J. opened her mouth to reply, she tried to tell him that yes, she knew the public had loved them, they had loved the show they had watched, but all that came out was a mix of a giggle, a squeal, and a sob. She had enough time to throw her arms around his shoulders, nearly knocking him out of balance, but his own arms quickly found their way to embrace her waist.
Even though her character had, technically, died on stage to spark several arguments, A.J. knew she'd live on—Wendla, her performance itself, and herself. It was just opening night and, sure, they still had several performances to go before production closed, not to mention they'd be compared to their precursors, but they all knew exactly what they had done.
