Zoe Chen stared at the cast list posted outside the auditorium, her heart sinking. There it was in black and white: “Juliet - Emily Chen.” Of course her perfect older sister had snagged the lead role. Again.
Zoe’s eyes scanned down the list, searching for her own name. She finally found it near the bottom: “Lady Montague - Zoe Chen.” Lady Montague? The character had like two lines in the entire play. Zoe clenched her fists, fighting back tears of frustration.
“Hey, looks like we’ll be spending a lot of quality time backstage together,” came a cheerful voice behind her. Zoe turned to see Marco Alvarez grinning at her, his messy dark hair falling into his eyes. “I got cast as…let’s see…the apothecary. Guess Ms. Patel couldn’t resist my natural charm and charisma.”
Despite her disappointment, Zoe couldn’t help but smile. Marco had a way of lightening any mood. “More like she couldn’t resist giving you the smallest part possible to minimize the chance of you derailing the entire production.”
Marco clutched his chest in mock offense. “You wound me, Zoe! I’ll have you know I take my craft very seriously.” He struck an exaggerated dramatic pose. “A plague on both your houses!”
“Wrong play,” Zoe pointed out.
“Details, details.” Marco waved his hand dismissively. “So, want to grab some fro-yo and drown our sorrows in sprinkles?”
Zoe hesitated. She should really go home and start on her mountain of AP homework. But the thought of facing her family right now, having to explain that she’d been relegated to a bit part while Emily got the starring role yet again, was unbearable.
“You know what? Fro-yo sounds perfect.”
As they walked to the nearby strip mall, Marco regaled Zoe with increasingly ridiculous ideas for spicing up their minor roles. “Picture this - Lady Montague, secret ninja assassin. She’s been plotting Romeo’s demise this whole time!”
Zoe laughed. “I’m pretty sure Ms. Patel would have an aneurysm if we went off-script like that.”
“Ah yes, our illustrious director.” Marco affected a lofty British accent. “The theater is sacred, darlings! We must suffer for our art!”
They’d reached the frozen yogurt shop. As they loaded up their cups with an absurd array of toppings, Zoe found herself relaxing for the first time all day. She and Marco had been in the same classes since elementary school, but they’d never really hung out outside of group settings before. She was surprised by how easy it felt.
“So,” Marco said as they settled into a booth, “on a scale of one to ten, how bummed are you about not getting Juliet?”
Zoe sighed, stabbing at her yogurt with her spoon. “Honestly? About a twelve. I really thought I had a shot this time.”
Marco’s usual goofy grin faded, replaced by a look of genuine sympathy. “That sucks. For what it’s worth, I thought your audition was amazing.”
“Thanks.” Zoe gave him a small smile. “I just…I’m so tired of always being in Emily’s shadow, you know? It’s like no matter what I do, I can never measure up.”
Marco nodded. “Yeah, I get that. My older brother’s some fancy lawyer in New York. Every family gathering, it’s all ‘When are you going to get serious about your future, Marco?’” He rolled his eyes. “As if I have any clue what I want to do with my life.”
“At least you have time to figure it out,” Zoe said. “I swear, my parents had my entire life planned out by the time I was five. It’s all ‘You need to take every AP class! Join more clubs! Volunteer more! How else will you get into an Ivy League school?’” She slumped back in her seat. “Sometimes I feel like I can’t breathe.”
“Sounds exhausting,” Marco said. He studied her for a moment. “You know, it’s okay to not have it all figured out. To just…be a teenager sometimes.”
Zoe gave a hollow laugh. “Yeah, try telling that to my parents.” She shook her head. “Sorry, I don’t mean to dump all my drama on you.”
“Hey, what are minor characters for if not to provide exposition and emotional support?” Marco grinned. “Seriously though, anytime you need to vent, I’m here. Lord knows I’ve got nothing better to do with my time.”
As they finished their yogurt, Zoe found herself wishing she could linger longer. But reality was already creeping back in - she had a paper due tomorrow and a calculus test to study for.
“Thanks for this,” she said as they walked out. “I really needed it.”
“Anytime,” Marco replied. “See you at rehearsal tomorrow?”
Zoe nodded. “Yeah. See you then.”
As she watched Marco saunter off, hands in his pockets and without a care in the world, Zoe felt a pang of envy. What would it be like to live like that? To not constantly feel the weight of expectations crushing you?
With a sigh, she turned and headed home, bracing herself for the inevitable comparisons to Emily that awaited her.
The next few weeks of rehearsals did nothing to improve Zoe’s mood. While Emily got to practice dramatic monologues and romantic scenes with Romeo, Zoe found herself spending most of her time helping paint sets or organize costumes. Even her paltry two lines had been cut down to one in the name of “tightening up the runtime.”
The only bright spot was Marco. True to his word, he seemed to have appointed himself as Zoe’s personal court jester, always ready with a quip or silly impression to make her laugh. She found herself looking forward to their backstage chats more than anything else about the production.
One afternoon, as Zoe was halfheartedly daubing paint onto a foam pillar, Marco plopped down beside her with his usual grin. “How goes the arduous task of transforming styrofoam into marble?”
Zoe rolled her eyes. “About as well as can be expected when you have zero artistic talent.” She gestured at the lumpy, uneven brushstrokes. “I’m pretty sure a kindergartener could do a better job.”
“Nonsense!” Marco declared. “This is clearly a postmodern masterpiece. You’re subverting expectations and challenging our very notion of what constitutes ‘marble.’”
Despite herself, Zoe laughed. “I’m sure that’s exactly what Ms. Patel will say when she sees it.”
As if summoned by her name, their drama teacher’s voice rang out across the auditorium. “Places, everyone! We’re running Act Three today!”
Marco groaned. “Guess that’s my cue to go stand silently in the background for an hour.” He stood and gave an exaggerated bow. “Until we meet again, fair Lady Montague.”
Zoe watched him bound off, feeling a familiar pang of longing. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt so carefree.
Her gaze drifted to the stage, where Emily was already in position, looking every inch the star in her flowing costume. As Romeo began his lines, Emily’s face transformed, radiating love and anguish in equal measure. Even from a distance, Zoe could see why her sister had been cast as the lead. She was magnetic.
A lump formed in Zoe’s throat. No matter how hard she tried, she would never be able to command attention like that. To make people feel something just by existing in a space.
She was so lost in her thoughts that she didn’t notice Ms. Patel approaching until the teacher was right beside her.
“Everything alright, Zoe?” Ms. Patel asked, her brow furrowed with concern.
Zoe plastered on a smile. “Oh, yes, everything’s fine. Just taking a little break from painting.”
Ms. Patel’s eyes flicked from Zoe to the stage and back again, a knowing look crossing her face. “You know, there’s more to theater than just being in the spotlight. Some of the most important work happens behind the scenes.”
“Right,” Zoe said, trying to keep the bitterness out of her voice. “I’m sure the play would fall apart without my expert pillar-painting skills.”
Ms. Patel chuckled. “Well, I wouldn’t go that far. But I do think you have talents you haven’t tapped into yet.” She paused, seeming to consider something. “How would you feel about taking on some additional responsibilities? We could use an assistant stage manager.”
Zoe blinked in surprise. “Me? But I don’t know anything about stage managing.”
“You’re organized, detail-oriented, and you have a good eye for what works on stage,” Ms. Patel said. “Those are the most important qualities. I can teach you the rest.” She smiled. “Think about it. It could be a good opportunity to learn some new skills.”
As Ms. Patel walked away, Zoe’s mind whirled. On one hand, the idea of taking on more work when she was already stretched thin made her want to cry. On the other…it would be nice to feel like she was actually contributing something meaningful to the production.
She glanced back at the stage, where Emily was in the midst of a passionate monologue. For a moment, Zoe allowed herself to imagine what it would be like to be the one calling the shots behind the scenes, making sure everything ran smoothly so her sister could shine.
Maybe, she thought, there was more than one way to stand out.
The next few weeks flew by in a blur of rehearsals, set construction, and frantic studying. Zoe threw herself into her new role as assistant stage manager with a determination that surprised even herself. She created detailed schedules, coordinated costume fittings, and made sure every prop was in its proper place before each run-through.
To her amazement, she found she actually enjoyed the work. There was something satisfying about seeing all the disparate pieces of a production come together, knowing she had played a part in making it happen. And while she might not be center stage, she was starting to realize that her contribution was just as vital.
Even her parents seemed impressed when she explained her new responsibilities. “That’s wonderful, sweetheart,” her mother had said. “It’ll look great on your college applications.”
Zoe had tried not to let that comment deflate her enthusiasm too much.
As opening night approached, the energy in the auditorium grew more frenetic. Tempers flared as nerves set in. More than once, Zoe found herself playing peacemaker between squabbling cast members or soothing Ms. Patel’s increasingly frequent meltdowns.
Through it all, Marco remained a steady source of humor and support. He always seemed to materialize just when Zoe felt on the verge of screaming, armed with a terrible pun or ridiculous story to make her laugh.
“I don’t know how you stay so calm,” Zoe said to him one day as they took a breather backstage. “Aren’t you nervous about the show at all?”
Marco shrugged. “Nah. I figure the worst that can happen is I completely humiliate myself in front of the entire school. And really, how is that different from any other day?”
Zoe snorted. “I’m serious. How do you not let the pressure get to you?”
Marco was quiet for a moment, his usual grin fading. “Honestly? I’m terrified pretty much all the time. About the future, about disappointing my family, about…everything.” He gave a self-deprecating laugh. “I just figure if I act like nothing bothers me, maybe eventually it’ll be true.”
Zoe stared at him, taken aback by this glimpse of vulnerability. “I had no idea,” she said softly. “You always seem so…carefree.”
“Yeah, well.” Marco ran a hand through his hair, suddenly looking uncomfortable. “Don’t go spreading it around. I’ve got a reputation to maintain.”
Before Zoe could respond, Ms. Patel’s voice rang out. “Places for Act Five, everyone!”
Marco flashed Zoe a quick smile, his usual mask of cheerful indifference sliding back into place. “Duty calls. Try not to miss me too much while I’m dazzling the masses with my two lines.”
As he sauntered off, Zoe found herself wondering how much else she had missed about Marco over the years. How many other people were hiding their true feelings behind carefully constructed facades?
The thought stayed with her as she went through the rest of rehearsal, calling cues and making notes. She realized she had been so focused on her own insecurities that she’d never stopped to consider that others might be struggling too. Even Emily, who always seemed so confident and put-together, must have moments of doubt.
Maybe, Zoe thought, they were all just doing their best to play the roles they thought were expected of them.
The night before opening night, disaster struck.
Zoe was doing one last check of the props when she heard a commotion from the dressing rooms. She hurried over to find Emily hunched over a trash can, looking pale and miserable.
“Food poisoning,” the school nurse declared after examining her. “She’ll need to stay home and rest for at least 24 hours.”
Ms. Patel looked like she might faint. “But…but the show opens tomorrow night! We can’t possibly…”
“I’ll do it,” Zoe heard herself say. All eyes turned to her in shock. “I know all of Juliet’s lines. I’ve been watching the rehearsals for weeks. I can step in.”
For a moment, there was stunned silence. Then Ms. Patel burst into tears and enveloped Zoe in a hug. “Oh, thank heavens! You’re a lifesaver, my dear!”
As the reality of what she’d just volunteered for sank in, Zoe felt a wave of panic. What had she been thinking? She wasn’t ready to take on the lead role with less than a day’s notice. She was going to make a fool of herself in front of the entire school.
But as she looked around at the relieved faces of her castmates, she knew she couldn’t back out now. They were all counting on her.
Taking a deep breath, she squared her shoulders. “Okay,” she said. “Let’s run through Act One.”
The next 24 hours passed in a blur of frantic rehearsals and last-minute adjustments. Zoe barely slept, running lines in her head even as she tried to rest. By the time the curtain was due to go up, she felt like she was operating on pure adrenaline and willpower.
As she waited in the wings for her cue, Zoe’s heart pounded so hard she was sure the audience must be able to hear it. What if she forgot her lines? What if she tripped and fell flat on her face? What if…
A hand touched her shoulder, making her jump. She turned to see Marco standing there, a reassuring smile on his face. “You’ve got this,” he said softly. “Just breathe.”
Zoe nodded, taking a shaky breath. “Thanks,” she whispered.
Then her cue came, and she was stepping out onto the stage, into the bright lights and expectant hush of the audience. For a moment, she froze, overwhelmed by the sea of faces staring back at her.
But then she opened her mouth, and Juliet’s words came pouring out. To her amazement, she found herself swept up in the emotion of the scene, all her nervousness falling away as she lost herself in the character.
Before she knew it, the final scene was upon her. As she delivered Juliet’s heartbroken monologue over Romeo’s body, Zoe felt tears spring to her eyes. The words seemed to take on new meaning, speaking to her own fears and insecurities.
“For never was a story of more woe, than this of Juliet and her Romeo,” she said, her voice breaking slightly on the final line.
For a moment after the lights went down, there was complete silence. Then the audience erupted in thunderous applause.
As Zoe took her bow, she caught sight of her parents in the front row, beaming with pride. Her mother was wiping away tears. Even her father, usually so stoic, was grinning from ear to ear.
In that moment, basking in the glow of the standing ovation, Zoe felt a weight lift from her shoulders. For once, she wasn’t thinking about college applications or AP scores or living up to anyone’s expectations. She had done something entirely for herself, and it had paid off beyond her wildest dreams.
As the cast gathered backstage after the show, the atmosphere was electric. Everyone was talking over each other, laughing and hugging and riding the high of a successful opening night.
Zoe found herself swept up in a group hug with several of her castmates. “That was amazing!” someone gushed. “You totally saved the show!”
“Seriously, how did you pull that off with basically no rehearsal time?” another person asked. “You’re like some kind of theater prodigy!”
Zoe blushed, feeling a bit overwhelmed by all the attention. “Oh, I don’t know about that. I just…did my best.”
“Your best is pretty darn impressive,” came a familiar voice. Zoe turned to see Marco grinning at her. “I always knew you had it in you.”
Before Zoe could respond, Ms. Patel’s voice rang out over the chatter. “Alright, everyone, gather round! I just want to say how incredibly proud I am of all of you. You came together as a team and pulled off something truly special tonight.” Her gaze landed on Zoe. “And a special thank you to our last-minute leading lady. Zoe, you were an absolute star up there.”
As everyone broke into applause, Zoe felt tears prick her eyes. She had spent so long feeling invisible, and now here she was, being celebrated by her peers and teachers. It was almost too much to process.
The next thing she knew, she was being ushered out to the lobby to greet her family. Her mother immediately enveloped her in a tight hug. “Oh sweetheart, you were wonderful! I had no idea you could act like that!”
Her father, not usually one for public displays of affection, actually kissed her on the forehead. “That’s my girl,” he said gruffly. “You really came through in a pinch.”
As Zoe basked in her parents’ praise, she caught sight of Emily hovering nearby, looking pale but determined to be there. To Zoe’s surprise, her sister pulled her into a hug. “I’m so proud of you,” Emily whispered. “You were amazing up there.”
Zoe hugged her back, feeling a knot of resentment she hadn’t even realized she’d been carrying start to loosen. “Thanks,” she said. “I hope you’re feeling better.”
Emily nodded. “Much. And hey, maybe we can do a show together sometime. You know, if you decide to keep up with this acting thing.”
The idea of performing alongside her sister instead of competing against her sent a thrill through Zoe. “Yeah,” she said. “Maybe we could.”
As her family continued to shower her with compliments, Zoe found her gaze drifting to where Marco stood with his own parents. He caught her eye and gave her a thumbs up and a wink. Zoe smiled back, making a mental note to thank him properly later for his support.
For the first time in a long time, Zoe felt like she could see a future stretching out before her full of possibilities. Maybe she would pursue theater further. Maybe she’d discover some entirely new passion. But whatever path she chose, she knew now that she had the strength to forge her own way.
She wasn’t just the overachiever’s understudy anymore. She was Zoe Chen, star in her own right. And she couldn’t wait to see what the next act would bring.