Found

Ceiling

I wasn't allowed to see Josh in the hospital for the days following his fall. I don't want you to see me here Gracie, he said over the phone, his voice hoarse, I'll be home soon. I promise. 

I wanted to cry, Josh was draining himself dry, constantly looking out for others instead of caring for himself. That's the thing about him, he always had to make sure everyone around him was okay. He always put himself second. 

I tried to go on as normal, and it was working, for a bit. 

After I finished school for the day, quickly going home to change and take my dinner out the fridge, I headed towards the theatre. The fireflies banner was still brightly lit, bulbs of different colours illuminating the iridescent lettering. Several reviews that outlined how well the show had been doing (a packed house every performance) hung above the entrance to the theatre for all to see. 

I entered through the stage door, still finding is disorientating to see myself plastered on a wall for pedestrians to stare at, but none the less I entered the building with success. Pranking had already begun at the theatre, despite April fool's not being for another month. Today's prank was rather annoying - some idiot had placed the sign-in sheet on the ceiling. How? I don't know, nor do I care.  

I grunted slightly, placing my belongings on the table that is usually full of sweet treats, however, today was unfortunately devoid of such items. I pulled the chair out from underneath the table, the chair legs scraping against the floor creating a noise worse than nails on a chalkboard. I grimaced slightly at the sound, before standing up on the chair in an attempt to reach the sign-in sheet. 

Despite straightening my arm as much as possible, straining my fingers as far as they could reach, I couldn't reach the sign-in sheet. I groaned slightly in exasperation, all I wanted to do was get ready for the show, but some foolish child who is much taller than me decided it would be a fantastic idea to place the sheet on the ceiling. 

The harder I began to reach the more the chair tipped, yet still remained on all four legs. I reached a bit more, my fingers only a pennies distance from the page. They were about to scrape the page, but my hand grabbed at air, attempting to steady myself as I fell through the air. I'd seized too much confidence in the idea that I would be able to miraculously tip the chair further than it would be deemed possible to be able to reach the damned page. 

It was a futile task, trying to reach the sheet at my height. I only realized this as I fell, tumbling off the chair towards the ground. I squeezed my eyes shut, not wanting to watch as my nose would break upon impact to the ground. I didn't want to even imagine the sound it would make. 

But it never came. Instead of falling forwards, cracking my head on the floor, I spiraled backward, only to be caught by a passerby. I squinted my eyes open to stare right up at the redhead himself, who was probably the culprit of said crime, trying to redeem himself for his actions by catching me in his arms. 

"Can't have you breaking your back can we?" he laughed, steadily placing my feet firmly back on the floor. 

I wasn't having any of it. As soon as I was steady, my hands flew to my hips as I began to stare him up and down with my death glare. "Oh really, I bet this," I pointed towards the sign-in sheet on the ceiling, "was your idea, wasn't it?" 

He placed his hands on my shoulders, swiveling me around so that we swapped directions. He then proceeded to stand on the chair and pull the sign- in sheet off the ceiling. "Actually it was Micheal's idea."

"Oh, sorry." I apologized, biting my lip, "It seems like something you would do, you did it on tour."

"No worries," he said shrugging, stepping off the chair, "it does seem like something I would do." He cleared his throat, handing me the sign-in sheet, allowing me to note down my initals. "I caught you because Josh asked me to look out for you."

My head snapped up from the sheet at the mention of Josh's name, looking sky square in the eyes, "Did he?" 

"Yeah," he nodded, "he cares a lot about you, Grace." 

He took the clipboard out of my hands, placing it back on its designated nail. "Go on, you have a show to star in." 

I sighed. I hated the 's' word. "We all know, that there is no star of the show, everyone works together to make it." 

I didn't want to hear his argument, so I escaped towards the stairs, gathering my items off the table as I passed it. I was about halfway up a flight when I heard Sky yell up to me. "You're still the star!" 

"No, I'm not!" I exclaimed before running up the stairs further, making sure that Sky was out of earshot. 

I entered my dressing room on the second floor, to find my dresser already inside, prepping my wig and organizing hair grips. "Hello, Miranda!" 

"Hey Grace," she smiled in return, pointing towards my chair. 

Almost as soon as I sat down she went to work on my hair, carefully coiling the strands around her fingers before flattening them on my head and securing them with a grip. She repeated the same movements over and over, filling my whole head with the circles, whilst I was busying myself with Algebra homework. I'd got quite good at it as of late, easily factorizing and expanding the brackets and completing the squares of equations. Courtesy of Clark's face timing sessions - to which Jules would usually butt and start talking about a new show on Broadway. 

With my help, however, Miranda carefully placed my wig cap on my head, making sure my microphone was flat against the middle of my forehead. She pulled my Julia wig off the wig stand and proceed to carefully pull it over my head. 

I turned in my chair to face her as she pulled bits of hair out to square my face before turning back to face the mirror clapping my hands. "Instant hairdo!" 

She laughed at my antics, before beginning to start my makeup. I didn't have to wear much, just enough to make sure I didn't look dead on stage. She left so I could get changed, and quickly returned to make sure I was stage ready. 

Maddie popped her head into the room, her chaperone in tow. She wore a matching wig to me, and had a tiny version of my outfit on, as to make the transition of Maddie's Julia to my Julia more fluid. 

It wasn't long until I was on the stage, singing by her. It was a special night tonight, however, because where he should have been on opening night, was Will. He was finally able to leave the hospital after months of waiting to get better. I know how intense it was, having to do some many exercises to get back to the same strength he was before the shooting. 

I'm doing this for you, he told me once, holding my hand in his, I want to be able to see you shine on that stage.  

I gave him a kiss for that one. 

But I hated that I wasn't allowed to see Josh. He kept refusing to let me see him whenever I asked to see him. The only news about him I would receive would be from Dad, who always told me he was doing well. I don't believe him of course, if he was really okay then he wouldn't be there. 

But then again, he's never going to be 'okay'. That disease will spread around him, coiling around his nerves, squeezing them. Making him forget everything, forget everyone. And we can only watch. There's nothing we can do. And it kills me.  He told me he would come home, but there wasn't much hope clinging onto that. 

I promise. Those words echoed in my mind. One day he'd have to break that promise.