PersonaliKey

A First Rehearsal

Today was the first dress rehearsal for the freshmen's musical, "The Phantom of the Labyrinth." The singing and acting classes paired up for the production, thankfully, because I still needed Sally's help despite my switching ability. I haven't been abusing the power per-say, but I couldn't resist seeing the 'prodigy' of the DiCaprio family's face when an INFP stole the lead role from her. Now, as I stood on the brink of the blood red curtain, shrouded in the darkness of backstage, I regret my choices.

"I'm nervous." I whispered over to Sally.

"Yeah, well." She flicked the keys on my neck, and they swung side to side jingling, "Why not just fix that?"

I hushed the key's clanging. "Hush! The chancellor could be nearby." I could barely make out their faces in the dark. I had spent so much time as an ENFJ, the personality of the musical's protagonist, I had forgotten how strong my nerves were.

"If you were worried about drawing attention to yourself, " She scoffed. "... then maybe you shouldn't have cheated to land the fucking lead of the musical."

"I made that decision under the influence of ENFJ. I can't back out now, there's herd of vultures out there. I'll tone it down after this musical. I promise."

"Whatever." Sally collapsed back into her chair. "I was excited when I found out we had class together. Little did I know, I don't actually have class with you."

"It's still me." I said. A voice echoed across backstage. Rehearsal would begin in a few minutes. My stomach churned. I needed Sally to help with my hair, the braid was lopsided. I flicked over the two face halves and felt my nerves evaporate. Normally I waited until I went on stage, but Sally was in one of her moods again. "Come on sissy, let's get my hair done. It's starting any moment."

"Did you just switch on me?"

"Of course not." I lied. She couldn't see the keys in the dark. "Are you going to help me?" I wrangled a few loose hairs back into the braid.

"You only call me sissy when --" Sally shook her head. "Who the hell even are you?"

"Just help me!" I snapped. Sally's eyes widened and she finally started to adjust the braid, albeit yanking hard.

My cue was called. Acting didn't necessarily come easy, but the first act was smooth. Even London Churchill-Geller, Harry's mother and chancellor, seemed satisfied. I still had the second act, which meant the solo I had to dominate. I slipped behind the curtain and swapped back to INFP. Harry waited by the dressing room and surprised me with an unexpected hug! We had gotten along far better now that I matched his type on our dates. Sally was brooding in the corner of the dressing room, blocking my disheveled dresser. An uncomfortable silence captivated the room.

"I'm sorry." I said. I offered out my arms, but she just stared, eyebrow raised.

She fiddled with the frilly dress laid out on the dresser. "I would've killed this solo." She lifted the dress and threw it in my face. "Why'd you switch to my personality type back during the singing audition? I had a shot."

"I told you, that was the ENTJ 'win or die' version of me." I straightened out the dress and began to slip on the top. "I wouldn't do that to you normally."

"Stop hiding behind that excuse." Sally jumped out of the chair and shoved me into the wardrobe when rushing toward the door. "In the end, you are what you do." She slammed the door.

I reached into my back pocket, where I had put my necklace so I could hide the switch during the play. It was gone. Damn it. I scoured the room. I ripped all the drawers out of the dresser, cleared all the tables, but nothing. I heard the call for positions. Fuck. I ransacked the entire room. Fuck. Fuck. Did Sally take it?

I stood at the stage's end, my hands strangled the microphone, sweat rolled down my forehead, and my eyes were frozen, locked with Madam Churchill-Geller's in the front row. I managed to crank my jaw open, but no sound came out, like a Venus fly trap waiting for lyrics to waddle inside. Moments passed. I was a beached whale at the Olympics. Minutes passed. Madam Churchill-Geller's glare eventually morphed into a smile. I wasn't a deer caught in the headlights, I was a deer glued, stapled, and cemented to the fucking road. I just stared. Sally eventually drug me off the stage, and I heard the Chancellor's laughs echo throughout the auditorium.

Sally pushed me into the old chair outside the dressing room. I couldn't tell if she was angry, concerned, or apologetic. We stared at the clothes spilling out of the dressing room from my incessant rummaging. The lump in my throat briefly abated. "How could you do that to me?" I whimpered.

One of her eyebrows shot up. "Excuse me?" Sally said.

"You took it. You wanted to see me die of embarrassment." I wiped my eyes on one of the puffy frills in the dress. The Meyer-Briggs branch used public speaking and peer embarrassment as a legitimate torture method for Introverts before it was deemed inhumane by the Major-Briggs branch.

"You're insane." Sally covered her eyes with her hand.

"You keep saying how I'm different..." My heart started to race. "But you've changed, you've been nothing but a bitch to me."

Her jaw dropped. "Damn, girl." She picked up a few shirts and searched inside. "I'm pretending you said that because you're hysteric right now." She tossed the shirts on the floor. "Where did you see it last?"

"You didn't take it?" Sally shook her head. A tear escaped. "Of course you didn't. Fuck, I'm a mess." I collapsed into my hands. She begrudgingly put her arm around me.

Harry waved through the curtain moments later. He had the same shocked look plastered on his face as his mom did. "I—You--" he shuttered, "You okay?"

"No, Harry." Sally said with a great sigh. "She just shat all over— Did you see that? Of course she's not okay." Sally discretely motioned at my neck, outlined a key with her fingers. I pretended not to notice. When Sally was protective of me, she tried to communicate anything sensitive with obtuse hand-waving.

"If you told me..." he whispered. My keys swung in his hand, like a bloodied dagger. "I would've kept it secret. You're a switcher."

Sally ripped her arm from my shoulder and thrust Harry against the dressing room door. "How dare you embarrass her like that?"

"Sally, you're mad at me, not him." I brushed her hands off of Harry. "He didn't know better."

"So now we get naïve optimistic Thalia. You were about to eviscerate me for taking it." Sally slammed Harry against the door again. "You don't steal people's relics without some heinous plot."

"Gentle." A cool voice echoed from behind the curtains. Chancellor London Churchill-Geller emerged. She smiled. "Don't harm the university's newest hero."

Sally and I glanced at each other, we had discussed how we would handle this situation in case I was caught, but this disaster was far past our worst case scenario. The plan was that Sally would burst into song, as she often does, to distract the individual. I would switch to INTJ and devise a rational explanation for what the individual saw. It seemed flawless, but I suppose that is the danger of planning as a Feeler instead of a Thinker. Sally's face was stunted in horror, I doubt she could even stay on key. We needed a contingency plan, maybe if I grabbed my key from Harry...

"Hero?" Sally questioned. At least she was naturally Extroverted.

"One of you... committed the ultimate crime of our society. So egregious, it isn't whispered. History of its existence is smudged. Those who perform it... are erased." She waltzed up to Harry, brushed Sally away, and grabbed the key from his hand. A dozen or more bulky men wearing crow masks and holding automatic rifles emerged from the exits and curtains. "I had my suspicions, but I never would've thought a Shakespeare to be so dimwitted as to prove it on stage." A devious crooked smile glazed across her face, and Harry behind her was petrified. "Such a pity." She held my chin up to her face, she smelt like decaying daises. "Tell me dear, are you ready to reunite with your mother?"

I had no key. Sally had no voice. We had no plan.