Chapter 6: The Guest of Honor

The Union theater held three hundred seats, and by seven on Tuesday most of them were full.

There were ring lights along the aisle and a banner over the stage that said QUINN IN GRAYSCALE, LIVE.

A girl with a Prism lanyard sat in the front row holding a long white envelope.

I stood in the wings with a garment bag over one arm.

Rhett stood beside me with a headset on, one hand on a walkie-talkie.

"Last chance to change your mind," he said.

"Do the lights."

"You'll have white light on stage. Then house lights. Then I'll hit the speakers on your signal."

"I know."

"You're sure."

I had never been so sure of anything.

Kinsley walked out first, in a bright dress that was probably some color I'd never know.

The crowd clapped.

"Welcome, grayscale fam!" she called.

She had a ring light glowing behind her and a phone on a tripod, filming everything.

"Tonight is special. You've all watched my girl Quinn go through some stuff this week."

Someone in the crowd hooted.

"She's had a rough few days, and I wanted to give her a moment. A real, honest, heartfelt moment, with all of you. Quinn, babe, come out."

I walked onto the stage.

The clapping rolled through the seats like a wave.

Kinsley held out her arms.

I stopped three feet short of her.

"Hi," I said, and the mic caught it.

Her smile twitched.

"Aw. She's shy, you guys."

"I brought something."

I unzipped the garment bag and hung the dress on the stage rack.

The dress from Friday. Stiff hem, streaks down the skirt.

In the stage lights it was just a pale, strange, glowing thing.

A few people gasped.

"This is what I wore to the dance," I said. "You've seen it. Under crimson and green wash lights, it looks like somebody threw paint at me."

Rhett cut the lights.

The house lights came up plain and bright.

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