Together

Something Different

Happy weekend everyone! Any fun plans? I'm taking the SAT tomorrow, ugh. Anyone else? Wish me luck! I'm exhausted and want to be rested for the rest, so I'm heading to bed early tonight, but I'm leaving you with this. Don't forget to comment and vote- it always makes me smile!
-ab

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December 27, 2025

Harper

It surprises me a bit to see the text from Katherine pop up on my phone screen as I'm preparing for my matinee.

Katherine: Can you teach me how to sing?

Harper: I'm sorry, what? I mean, yes, but, context please.

Katherine: I got an audition opportunity and it's all pretty secret right now (you know what that's like, I'm sure) but I have to be able to do a bit of singing for the job.

Harper: Alright... Can we meet up tomorrow and we could do some work?

Katherine: Sure. I need a 32 bar cut for the audition. What does that mean?

Harper: 32 measures of a song. Do you have a song in mind?

Katherine: Not really

Harper: I'd guess that you probably sing mezzo soprano, so I'll look into it for you.

Katherine: You're the best xxx. I'll see you tomorrow.

At that, I set myself a reminder on my iPhone to look into a song for Kath, then turn on some music and get back to preparing myself for the show.

It's really crazy- she's closing Nutcracker today, and she's already thinking about what she'll be doing next. She deserves a break, too. Sugar Plum isn't an easy role. Far from it, as the matter of fact.

After getting through my first show of the day, I have a break that isn't long enough to go home, so I usually go get food, then relax in my dressing room. Today, I take to Google, in an attempt to produce some possible audition songs for Katherine.

In the end, I pick out selections from 'NYC' from Annie, 'Don't Cry For Me Argentina,' from Evita, and 'Practically Perfect' from the stage version of Mary Poppins. Only certain parts of that one could work in her mezzo-soprano range, but I'll be able to find a section, if we decide on that one. I'd suspect that she will have some sort of immediate attachment to the Annie number, as I know that, if it were up to Katherine, she'd be living in New York and dancing for the New York City Ballet, but she's not able to do that, as she wasn't raised in the states and trained at the academy for NYCB. The Royal Ballet is still fulfillment of all of her dreams, thankfully. In all honestly, I'd be quite upset if she went to go live in New York. I'd miss her a lot.

Soon, it's time for me to get ready for my second show of the day. My mind, however, begins to drift to what's happening after the show. Something different than my usual 'home and straight to bed' routine.

Though it's a strange time to do so, Patrick is going to take me over to the hospital to visit my dad, who got checked in for his treatment today. It isn't normal 'visiting hours,' but he begged the nurses to allow me to come, and they eventually agreed.

In all honesty, I'm quite terrified. I have absolutely no idea what to expect.

All that I do know, is that I still have to put on a good show tonight, so I need to push it out of my mind for a few hours still. That's going to be the hardest part, in all honesty.

"Hey Harper," I hear Ruby say through the thin door of my dressing room. "Can I come in?"

"Sure," I reply, then hear the creak of the door opening, and Ruby walks over to my dressing table.

"What's up?"

"Just thinking," I reply. "I've gotta go do something that isn't super fun after tonight's show, and I'm just... well, sort of dreading it."

"Oh," she frowns. "That sucks. What do you have to do, if you don't mind me asking?"

"Well," I take a deep breath, "don't go spreading this around, but I found out the other day that my dad has cancer, and it's pretty bad. He's getting chemo and wants me to come visit him tonight. He thinks it'll help me, and it probably will, but I'm so scared."

"Oh," Ruby says again, then goes silent for a moment. "I'm really sorry, girly."

"Thanks," I shrug. "I just want to forget about it right now, and focus on the show, you know?"

"Yeah," she states. "I get that, for sure. I had a younger brother who passed away of leukemia when he was just four, and I was only seven, so I know what it feels like to go through all of this, and it's not nice. If you need anything, then please, don't be afraid to ask."

"I'm so sorry," I gasp. "Thank you so much, Ruby. You're the best."

"Hey, that's what you do for friends. Now, can I stay in here with you while you finish getting ready?"

"Sure," I tell her, then turning back to my makeup.

After a few minutes, Jenni comes in to help me with my wig, and then, I get changed into my first costume. I'm all ready for the show.

It's funny, the show seems to fly by in the blink of an eye. At the same time, though, it feels like it lasts an eternity.

When it's over, I move very quickly to get changed out of my costume, clean up my things, and get out of the theatre. For fear of disappointing anyone, I insist on signing autographs at the stage door, as well as taking pictures with some lovely fans, then Patrick swoops me into his arms and leads me down the block, where Taylor's driver is parked. She was so kind as to lend us her car for the evening. Even though the night tube is running tonight, Patrick is worried that I'm going to be upset after our visit with my father, and I know that he is probably right.

As we walk into the hospital, there is a sort of stillness about the air in the foyer. I hate being in hospitals. I always have. This time, though, is different. I don't want to be here, to the extent that I feel as though I'm going to be sick.

"Patrick," I whisper, "I'm not sure that this is the best idea... like, me being here..."

"Love, hush," he tells me. "Your dad wants you to come visit him. Don't you want to honour his request?"

"Well, yes, but-"

"Come on. I know that you're scared, and I don't blame you, but you have to do this, both for him and for yourself."

I know that Patrick's right. I squeeze his hand tighter as we walk up to the secretary and find out how to get to my dad's room. Then, we board the lift and find ourselves riding up seven floors, until the doors open with a ding.

The hallway is tiled white. The wallpaper is white. Everything is white.

I can't stand how pristine and white it all is.

Then, we reach his room. Seeing the little card outside of the door, reading 'Cooper Kennedy' makes my breath hitch.

"I can't do this."

"Yes you can," Patrick encourages me. "And I'm right here next to you."