Gravity Rises (S2)

ST: Part Six

Melody kept the twins busy with chores the next day. It was slave labor: restocking shelves, hanging up signs, and cleaning. So much cleaning.

Mabel was convinced Melody was trying to fill up all their time to prevent them from working on the laptop — or going in to see Ford, who was essentially in quarantine. Dipper told her she was being paranoid.

Around noon, they were able to break for lunch. Melody handed them delicious avocado tuna sandwiches with a smile and a pat at the head.

"She's deviously evil," Mabel said, taking an angry bite of her sandwich and scowling at Melody's retreating form.

"Oh come on, Mabel, Melody needs the extra help with Ford being so sick."

Mabel viciously tore another bite out of her sandwich. It tasted heavenly.

"Besides," Dipper continued, "weren't you just going to wait until rehearsal tonight, anyway? So Melody won't see?"

"She never comes up to our room," Mabel grumbled.

"Yeah, but she asks about you when you disappear for too long."

Mabel kept taking big bites of her sandwich and didn't respond.

Finally, it was evening, and they were released. Mabel and Dipper scarfed down dinner and then ran upstairs to get ready.

Dipper rifled through his dresser. "Gabby says that techies wear all black, but since I'm a spotlighter I won't be seen and it doesn't really matter. Should I wear it anyway? To look the part?" He took out a long-sleeved black shirt and held it up to one of his blue tees.

On the other side of the room, Mabel was busy wrapping the laptop and Journal in blankets and shopping bags. Just in case.

Melody grabbed them to kiss them on the cheek before they left, but thankfully didn't say anything about Mabel's bundle. The twins, who were slightly late, bustled out the door and into the cold and hurried to the theater.

The large double doors were unlocked. Voices carried to them as soon as they pulled them open.

" — And I don't know why that fly was late but I don't want it to happen again. Who's in charge of it?"

"That's Mr. Bartosic, the director," Dipper said in a loud whisper. "We'd better sneak in."

They crept through the empty lobby. Mabel stared around at the ornate chandeliers and the slightly peeling wallpaper.

"Woah," she said. "This place is definitely haunted."

They passed through another set of double doors, this time leading to the stage.

"Who's in charge of Fly Thirteen during — oh, good, there you are. What happened?"

A tall man with a full blond beard was standing in front of a line of people, all sitting on the edge of the stage, dressed in dresses and bloomers and corsets. The man stared expectantly at a woman in front of him, who looked calmly back.

"Sorry," the woman said. "I don't think I can make it work with my costume change. Maybe if someone was helping me, but even then. . . ."

"There's Gabby." Dipper pointed. Mabel followed his finger. Abigail sat almost directly in the center of the group. "C'mon."

"Dipper wait, I don't want to disrupt — "

"Oh good, spotlighter, you're here." Too late. The director had noticed them. "Who's this?"

"Hi, Mr. Bartosic!" Dipper said. "Sorry I'm late. This is my sister Mabel. She's just hanging out with me."

Mr. Bartosic's eyes narrowed, and Mabel squirmed under his gaze.