Forever Crimson

Chapter 5

"THIS IS RIDICULOUS," SCARLET GRUMBLED to herself as she hauled the yellow monster of a bucket, if it was even considered a bucket, across the backstage halls. She passed by restrooms, large dressing rooms, water fountains, and even a decently sized break room with tables and vending machines. She had never thought of a backstage having a break room like that, but she guessed performers needed to eat as well when they weren't busy putting on a show for others.

She stopped by a corner, and dumped the mop into the gray flower-scented water. It splashed upwards, almost hitting Scarlet in the face, but she recoiled in time. With a sigh, she plopped the mop onto the cream vinyl tiles. The water turned grayer when she returned the mop back into the bucket.

When she inspected the floors, not much was clean. The evening had been long enough. Every few minutes, she took out her phone from her pocket, checking to see if any emergency demanded she run back home. But every time, her bare wallpaper stared back at her, though sometimes she received a few sporadic texts from her friends that came in odd batches, asking if anyone had made a giant fool of themselves on stage.

Though she wasn't interested in the auditions happening just a mere feet away, a part of her sparked with curiosity to know how everyone performed. Perhaps someone tripped and fell on their face, or they had a tantrum for being dismissed. Scarlet wanted to know the ugly.

Thus far, she was decently surprised with the acts she saw. That random Preppy that stopped her outside—Jake—did a good Romeo. If all Preppies auditioned just as great, then the acting roles would be given mostly to Lexton Prep.

She bristled. That would cause an uproar, but then those Preppies would accuse them of being what they always claimed they were: Rodents. It would turn into a full on war right before their eyes.

A live action Romeo and Juliet without a script and the stupid tragic romance.

The mop sloshed onto the floor once again, and she moved it up and down, hoping to get every crevice and edge so Ms. Stanford didn't complain of her work. The last thing she needed was for Ms. Stanford to send her back to the halls to mop the floors properly. She'd rather do the work right the first time around than risk having to do it all over again.

The clock struck six thirty by the time she finished, and she hoped Ms. Stanford could make her leave a few minutes earlier. Her stomach was rumbling, her arms hurt from the effort, and her mind was tired with all the different horrible scenarios that could happen if she wasn't there for her mother.

At the thought, she sent a message to her mother, asking if she was alright. She grunted when the message failed to deliver. She had no signal back there. She would have to wait until she left the backstage.

The last semester of her senior year was shaping up to be a disaster.

Once she was certain she was done mopping the floors, she hauled the bucket towards one of the restrooms. She took quick small steps backwards, hoping to get there faster. Her rear end bumped with the restroom door, so she pushed it open whilst simultaneously pulling the bucket inside.

A private toilet greeted her, looking worn down and depressed. She sighed, and straightened her spine only to knock her forehead with the back of the mop. A groan escaped her lips as she rubbed on the spot, hoping it didn't turn into a bump. She wouldn't be able to explain herself to her mother, nor would she be able to live it down.

Scarlet took the mop and let it stand by a corner, flinching when it threatened to topple her. She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and focused on the task at hand, which was emptying the gray—almost black—water from the bucket. She stared at the yellow monster, wondering if she would be able to pick it up on her own.