The thick red curtain dropped, muffling the audience’s applause as it separated the stage from the outside world. All around me, my cast mates laughed, hugged, and patted each other on the back.

I just sat, slowly, right where I stood, not even realizing I was going down until the wood of the stage greeted my bottom. My body was shaking again, but it was not the unnerved tremors I’d felt before first stepping onstage just two hours ago. It reminded me of how my arms had shaken that time Dad tried to get me interested in weightlifting, when he finally let me put down the big, heavy dumbbells and my entire body had seemed to say “thank god it’s over” all at once.

The weight was gone. The show was over. I did it.

“Park? You okay?”

Everyone is moving away to the wings, towards the dressing room or the lobby to meet their families. But Aly comes back onto the stage to me, her wig gone but still in that fancy dress. I nod, not sure I trust myself to speak without crying, which seems stupid because everything is okay.

She nods, too, and sits as well, putting her back to mine. Sturdy and strong.

I take a deep breath and let it out again, and she lets me lean against her. We sit there for a while.