sign of the moon

BlogClan Name: Cheetahspark
What tribute will you be doing (message, poem, memory, fanfic, etc): memory/story (this is irl)
Put your tribute here or paste a link to it:

I sighed, pulling my phone out of the front pocket of my backpack, and fumbled for the power button. Bright light flooded my face, and I was greeted by a text from my mom wishing me luck for my first official day of play practice, a couple of texts in a group chat with my friends asking what the math homework was, and, last but not least, a Bitmoji sent by my grandma.
Sighing once again, I gripped the handle of my rolling backpack, grunting as I lugged the old piece of crap, loaded with books (i’d recently rediscovered my love for warriors books, fueled by the weird blog/cult thing I’d recently joined on the internet… who knows, maybe it would stick?) and homework, up the steep stairs that led backstage.
The place was dark, and I nervously checked the time on my phone to make sure I wasn’t early. Nodding in confirmation to myself, I shoved open the (very heavy) door that lead to the “Theater Lab”, saw that I was the first one there, and sat down at one of the black chairs that was organized around the ocean-blue circle painted on the coal-black ground (it was a thing my school’s theater department did, painting a circle of color on the floor, to honor the musical they were doing that year. This year, the circle was blue because they were doing Once on This Island. I would have auditioned, but my parents made me do soccer instead. Spoiler alert: I don’t like soccer).
I allowed myself a moment to enjoy the silence of the room. I’d been doing theater since I was little, and it felt like I was being reborn every time I came into a new show. The lights, standing on stage, being a completely different person… theater was my passion. This was my 8th grade year… my very last middle school show. But it wasn’t just that. This was my very last show at my school. I’d been going to this school since I was in kindergarten, and I had intended on staying their until I graduated. Alas, plans change (and parents suddenly decide that your school is affecting your “social life”), and here I am, doing my very last show, in my very last year of middle school, in my very last year at my school.
I blinked rapidly, containing my tears. I was pretty sure I’d cried more that year than I had in my entire life, and I definetly wasn’t going to do so before my very first play practice of the year. Okay, this wasn’t the first rehearsal. The read-through was the day before, when I’d joyfully found that my character wasn’t a background character, like I’d previously thought, but had one hundred and seven lines. That was a lot. The most lines I’d ever had in a middle school production before was about five lines. So this was a stretch. But I was ready to take on the challenge… for however long I had left.
“Hey, Cheetahspark!”
I looked up and smiled, seeing our director entering the room. I quickly shoved my phone into my pocket, standing up as I noticed two other girls following him. One was named Lightlily; she was in my grade (more popular than me), and usually got all the leads in our shows. Like me, she’d been in all the middle school productions up to this point. Unlike me, she had gotten the lead. The second girl was one I slightly recognized; her name was Willowrain. I only knew her because she was my friend’s sister’s friend. She was younger than me, so I’d barely interacted with her before this point. It was only the three (well, four, counting our director), of us today. We were blocking the first scene, which only included me, Lightlily, and Willowrain.
The fact that the play this year was about the Holocaust hinted that it wouldn’t be a very happy “theater season”. I really could have used an uplifting show; I’d been feeling kinda depressed as of late. Still, theater is still theater, and theater is fun.
I strided up to Willowrain, nudged her with my elbow, and murmured, “I guess we’re kind of co-stars, huh?”
She giggled, her laugh immediately calming my nerves, and replied, “I guess.”
I mean, sort of. Lightlily and another girl, Seedcloud, were technically the “main roles”. Me and Willowrain’s roles came up pretty close, though! Our characters were supposed to have a brother-sister relationship (Willowrain was playing a little boy; I guess that’s the consequence of going to an all-girls school), and I was determined to have such a bond in reality (well not necessarily brother-sister… you get it).
We went through with the scene, but we paused when I ended up cracking up for no reason in the middle of one of my lines. Let’s just say it wasn’t a line that should have been laughed at (it was… um… Holocaust related).
“I’m sorry,” I breathed, clutching at my stomach as I heaved over in laughter. “I don’t… know why I’m laughing…”
Willowrain chuckled, Lightlily nodding in amusement.
Our director frowned. “Get it sorted out. We can’t have you laughing like that in the middle of the show.”
“That would be a tragedy,” Lightlily added.
“I’m sure I’ll have gotten my giggles out by then,” I growled (another spoiler alert: I didn’t have my giggles out until the last dress rehearsal).
About two hours later, after we had perfected our scene, practice had concluded. I gathered up my books and smiled after a mostly successful rehearsal. I whipped around when I noticed someone tapping on my shoulder. It was Willowrain.
“I look forward to having you as my ‘co-star’,” she piped, making air quotes with her fingers.
I smirked. “Likewise.”
This kid is a cinnamon roll, I thought as I zipped up my backpack. Maybe this will be a fun year after all.

Two months later.

I sobbed, clutching my knees to my chest as I rocked back and forth. I kept mumbling under my breath.
I don’t want to go. I don’t want to go.
It had finally happened. My dad had confirmed it. I was leaving for another school next year. After my sobs, my pleas, my utter denial that this was happening… it all came down to this.
I was in the dressing room. The same one I shared with Willowrain, Seedcloud, and a few others. Luckily, none of them were in there with me, witnessing my breakdown. I was seated on top of one of the counters, furiously wiping away tears with my palms until I gave up entirely. It was in the middle of a dress rehearsal for the other show (yes, there was another show going on at the same time as ours — it was complicated), so I didn’t need to worry about having to appear on stage anytime soon. I kept staring at that text, the lines blurring in front of me. A text from my dad. I didn’t want to think anymore about the things it said, but the words kept swirling around in my head.
I don’t want to go. I don’t want to go.
“Cheetah!”
An exclamation. My heart pounding. Someone hugging me. Through my blurred vision, I could make out Willowrain. We’d grown close these last couple months, all thanks to the magic of theater.
Something I would be eternally grateful for.
“What’s wrong?” She asked, worry clear on her face.
“M—My dad…” I hiccuped. “He told me I’m leaving next year. For good. No arguments, no fighting…”
“Give me his phone number.”
“What?” I looked up. Had I heard her right?
She tucked a strand of hair that had fallen loose from her ponytail behind her ear, determination, no longer pity, engraved on every line in her face. “I said give me your dad’s phone number. I’m going to beg him to let you stay. And I’ll get Seedcloud and everyone else to do it too.”
I knew I shouldn’t have given it to her. I knew he would be angry. I knew it wouldn’t help…
“Okay.”

Even though the furious look on my father’s face that night would forever remain in my memory, and it didn’t help my case so much as make my dad even more mad, I don’t regret my decision. Rain is an amazing friend. She’ll do anything for you. She did for me. I love her so much, and I miss her every day. Her friendship is one I’ll never forget. And for that, Rai, I thank you.
Thanks for everything, my co-star BFF.

Drawing of your fursona and Rain’s: ugh I don’t have the energy after writing that. I’ll do it later.
Drawing of your fursona: ^^^

I’ll do whatever I can to help, Frosto, considering I have her number. It was great of you to do this ❤️