“Alex.” The voice is clear in my ears and I open my eyes, glancing around the curtain and into the crowd. Many people are chatting, but no one seems to be trying to get my attention. The show hasn’t started and I’m just stretching.

“Alex.” The voice comes again.

I ignore it this time, just some person toying with me.

Then a more familiar voice chimes in, “Uhhhh, Z, I think that might be him.”

A second familiar voice joins, “Holy... I think you might be right, Y. Can he hear us? Hey, dude speaking into Alex’s head!”

I stand up this time, walking back stage and finding an exit door. It’s cold, winter just around the corner, and I can see my breath.

I grit my teeth, “seriously, guys?! Are you trying to wreck this for me?”

Y is the first to speak, “Listen, if I’m right and that’s who I think it is you stay out of this until he comes up to you.”

I spit fire at him, “What are you even talking about?!”

Z perks up, “Well, to be fair, Y, we should at least let Alex—“

“No! You know the rules, Z! Alex cannot know, otherwise it’ll probably wreck our chances and we’ll have to wait another thirty, fifty, or even a hundred years! I’m sick of this!”

I bring my hands to my head fast, “Shut up! Tell me what’s going on! I don’t think I can do a show with you two bickering like this! At least go back to my subconscious for a few hours and talk amongst yourselves!”

Y sounds annoyed, “If we go back there we won’t be able to see or hear or feel anything you do. We only came out because of that one guy, he gives off a... signal of sorts.”

I throw my hands up, “I can’t do the show. With you guys. IN. MY. HEADDDDAHH!”

I do the show with them in my head.

I hated every second of it, two internal voices talking as a third one speaks lines completely unrelated to their mind.

Friends approach me after and give congratulations, some take pictures. Then I hear the same voice from before, this time calling out a different name.

“Alice? Are you here? Can you hear me?”

I look around but I don’t see him. Is this a new voice?

Z erupts, “HE DIDN’T LEAVE!”

Y snarls, “Shut up! You’re gonna make me deaf!”

“You’re nothing but an internal monologue, Y.”

“Goes both ways.”

I feel a rough hand take mine and I flinch. A man stares down at me, early twenties, and he smiles shyly, “Um, hi,” he says in that voice, physically speaking this time, “Are you by any chance Alice? Or is it Alez? Aley? ...is it Alex?”

I narrow my eyes.

He frowns, “You forgot. We knew each other in your past life... three lives ago. I should have known you don’t go by Alice, I still have that one.”