Backstage: Third Time's the Charm

Julie Maslany

Julie Maslany
Keaton Graduate

Of all the times I'd imagined coming back to Keaton, of walking through the courtyard while DJs battled, and listening to the musicians strum their guitars while walking to class, of watching the dancers perfect their newest routine and seeing the familiar paint-stained clothing of the artists, I'd never imagined I would return to Keaton for Miles's memorial.

Technically, I shouldn't have been there anyway since I was no longer a student, but Scarlett called me, and I came home from Paris to support my friends. Like everything at Keaton, his memorial had been arranged with a sense of what can only be described at theatricality. Yes, it was serious. No one was acting or playing a part. Their sympathies and grief were genuine, but Durani's arrangements bore the mark of Keaton students, most likely Alya.

Traversing the halls now, everything from high school seemed so distant. Like a distorted dream. Had any of the past four years even been real?

I entered the auditorium, packed with students and parents. Near the front on the left side, I saw Jenna. Her curly hair reflected her mood, no long employing its happy bounce. I didn't see any of her dance friends nearby.

On the front row sat Scarlett, Alya, Bianca, Kit, and Jax. Next to Alya was Miles's mom. My heart twisted. I'd only met her once or twice during my relationship with Miles, but no mother should ever have to go through something like this.

I didn't see any readily available seats. Not wanting to disturb anyone, I stood in the shadows at the back of the room.

I'd missed his funeral, which was last week. A large framed photo of Miles sat on the stage, and the screens played a photo reel of school pictures. Some were from the yearbook, but most of them were selfies with his best friends.

Alya, Scarlett, and Bianca quietly stood and walked on stage. Alya robotically reached for her guitar, numbly slipping it over her head. Then the three of them walked up to microphones.

Scarlett spoke first. "I think I speak for all of us when I say Miles was amazing. He never wanted his illness to define him, which is where the song we are about to perform came from."

Alya began gently strumming the guitar.

"This song is 'Dig Deep', written by Miles Lennox," Scarlett said.

I think everyone was crying by the time the girls finished singing.

Alya wiped away some tears. "Miles wrote and recorded several songs. We've been compiling them and plan to release an album next month. With Mrs. Lennox's permission, the proceeds will go to a charity that helps children with kidney problems."

Everyone clapped slowly. I slipped out the back to avoid getting caught in the crowd.

I stopped in the halls, looking at one of the displays that had one of my paintings in it. Miles told me once an eight-year-old could have painted it. And after traveling the world, I wondered if he was right. Everything here seemed so small compared to the world I'd been traveling the last six months.

"Julie." Scarlett walked up next to me. "How are you doing?" We hugged.

I shook my head, unable to form words. "It's just not fair. He was seventeen."

"I know Miles blew up your relationship," Scarlett started. "You never really talked about him after that. I just thought you recovered quickly, but..."

"I loved him, Scarlett."

The black dress brushing against my legs felt unnatural. I'd been drawn to art because the world needed color. I'd needed color and that color was Miles.

I turned away from her, dropping my gaze to the gray-specked tiles. "He was dating Alya again, right?"

"Don't go there, Julie."

I rolled my eyes slightly, fighting back tears. "It doesn't matter. He obviously loved her. Look at me, still hung up on a guy two years younger than me."

"Julie..." Scarlett squeezed my shoulder. She opened her mouth to say something, but I cut her off.

"What about your brother?" I asked. "You haven't mentioned him in a while."

"We aren't on speaking terms. He punched Kit and tried to ruin my performance."

"Oh, I'm sorry Scarlett."

"He's just—"

"Behind you," I finished.

Scarlett's face remained blank and unamused. "Funny," she said flatly.

"I'm not joking."

Curtis stood behind her with a small, meek look on his face. "Can we talk, Scar?"

"Fine," she said stiffly, moving away from me.

I turned back to the painting, noticing a head of blonde hair moving my way.

"Alya," I said.

She stared back with sad, red-rimmed eyes. "Scarlett said you were here."

"Did you make it to his funeral?" I tried cutting through the awkwardness.

"Yes, I'm sorry you couldn't be there."

"My flight didn't get in until a few hours ago."

"You must be exhausted."

We continued staring at the painting in silence. I had run out of things to say, but Alya didn't seem to want to leave yet.

"He wrote a song about you."

"What?" I turned to her. "About me?"

"I'll send it to you. But it will be on the album if that's okay?"

"Of course."

She smiled sadly. "I'll send it after this is over."

It was almost midnight before she texted me the audio file. The three-word message attached brought tears to my eyes.

He loved you.

I clicked play and closed my eyes as Miles's song "The Wolf" lulled me to sleep.

Yay a new chapter! So sorry for the delays. And I'm sorry every chapter is sad right now. I only need to get through Scarlett and Alya before starting a new storyline. And, unfortunately, this book is probably coming to a close. I've got about 5-10 chapters left. But not all of my characters are graduating, so if you want a final book with Alya, Jax, Bianca, Kit, Carly, Beckett, and Vanessa's senior years comment and lmk!