by Andy Mientus
PUBLISHER’S NOTE: THIS IS A WORK OF FICTION. NAMES, CHARACTERS, PLACES, AND INCIDENTS ARE EITHER THE PRODUCT OF THE AUTHOR’S IMAGINATION OR USED FICTITIOUSLY, AND ANY RESEMBLANCE TO ACTUAL PERSONS, LIVING OR DEAD, BUSINESS ESTABLISHMENTS, EVENTS, OR LOCALES IS ENTIRELY COINCIDENTAL.
CATALOGING-IN-PUBLICATION DATA HAS BEEN APPLIED FOR AND MAY BE OBTAINED FROM THE LIBRARY OF CONGRESS.
ISBN 978-1-4197-3365-9
eISBN 978-1-68335-483-3
TEXT AND ILLUSTRATIONS COPYRIGHT © 2019 BOOM! STUDIOS
BOOK DESIGN BY CHAD W. BECKERMAN
THE BACKSTAGERS CREATED BY RIAN SYGH & JAMES TYNION IV.
THE BACKSTAGERS ™ AND © RIAN SYGH & JAMES TYNION IV.
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FOR THE ENTIRE COMPANY
OF DEAF WEST’S PRODUCTION OF
SPRING AWAKENING
AND FOR EVERYONE WHO WORKS
TO MAKE THEATER
MORE ACCESSIBLE FOR ALL
PROLOGUE
When you enter a theater to see a show, take your seat, power off your phone (hopefully), watch the lights fade, and see the magic begin, you probably think you are seeing a story from the beginning. It’s a common misconception. Yes, if you think in the most basic terms, that two hours’ traffic of the stage will present you with a complete story from start to finish. But that’s not the whole story.
When you enter that theater, you enter the history of that theater, from the day it was built through every production—triumph and flop—and every performance leading to the one you are about to witness. You also enter the history of theater itself, from its ancient origins through every innovation that has made your show possible. When the actors enter the stage, you are seeing every step of the journey that brought them there: the years of training, the failures and rejections, the glory of that one “yes” that got them to your theater on that day, the grueling weeks of rehearsal that prepared them to give that performance. You even see the effect that the very hours leading up to that night’s curtain have had upon the actor. Those hours had some effect on you, too, and so you, and the actor, and everyone on the crew, and everyone seated around you bring that history into the theater with you. The play you see is a story from the beginning, but the act of seeing a play is very much a story beginning in the middle.
This book you are reading is also a story beginning in the middle. This is important to remember, because this story begins with two mysterious figures meeting under a full moon on some ancient hallowed ground, wearing stone masks contorted in the most monstrous interpretations of comedy and tragedy. It’s an ominous scene, and anyone who happened upon it would likely assume the two were up to no good. But if they knew all that had transpired before this night, they would know that these two believed that they had gathered in this lonely, dark space to do the greatest good they could possibly do.
“Just try to imagine it,” said the comedy-masked figure. The voice that emerged from the stone mask’s snarl of a smile was a young man’s, full of wonder at the ancient ground on which he stood. It was a ruin perched on the edge of a jagged cliff, hanging over the black expanse of a surging cold sea. Rows of crumbling stone benches wrapped, arena-style, around a well-trodden half circle of earth. The rows faced what was left of a primitive proscenium stage cut into the edge of the cliff itself. The comedian’s voice cut the atmosphere, because other than the ebb and flow of the sea below, the space was deadly quiet.
“Just try to imagine what it was like to come here to see a play when no one even knew what a play was. When the only lighting was elemental—the sun, or roaring fires and the moon and the stars. When once the action began, no ringing cell phone or technical mishap could break the spell. It was pure theater. It must have been—”
“Magic,” the tragedy-masked figure interrupted in the voice of a young woman. “It was the real magic of the theater, and it’s something we can’t imagine, because we’ve never known a world without all of those distractions. But hopefully we’ll know soon enough.”
She reached into her white draped robes and produced a weathered wooden box.
“I can’t believe you swiped that,” the comedian said.
“Borrowed,” the tragedian corrected. “We’ve had this thing for generations; I don’t understand why no one is actually using it.”
“Still, if management found out—”
“If we succeed in this, we’ll be the new management.”
Despite his hesitation, the comedian nodded solemnly.
“Okay,” he said. “No turning back now.”
The tragedian opened the box, revealing, for the first time in many, many years, a dark stone carved into a shape not unlike a handheld microphone. It was covered in strange sigils and glyphs from a forgotten language.
At that exact moment, in a part of the world where the sun was still high in the sky, the Backstagers all let out a terrified scream.
CHAPTER 1
Jory and Hunter were the first to crest the hill, as they had won the drawing to get the very front seat of the first car. They were followed milliseconds later by their friends Beckett and Bailey, Aziz and Adrienne, Reo and Sasha, and Timothy and Jamie, seated in pairs as the roller coaster car plunged downward at an impossible speed. Their screams turned to cheers and laughs, and almost as quickly as it had begun, their roller coaster ride came screeching to a halt and the Backstagers stumbled out of the car and on to the rest of what had already been a glorious spring day.
In case you are joining this story in the middle (of the middle), the Backstagers are an indivisible group of outcasts who form the backstage crew at St. Genesius Preparatory High School. Together they have had many adventures exploring the mysteries that lie beyond the Unsafe door that separates the normal world from the enchanted world of the backstage. Not enchanted like the way some lovesick guy sings about “enchanted evenings” in a musical—literally enchanted, as in monsters, portals, danger, and magic.
Those adventures had occasionally gotten them into terrible trouble but had also bound them as friends for life. There was Jory, the costume designer of the group who was perfectly average in every way, except that he possessed a magical notebook that could make any sketch he dreamed up manifest instantly into reality. His boyfriend of almost six months, Hunter, was the head builder and stage manager-in-training. Hunter towered above the others, both due to his impressive height and his mountain of thick brown hair, expertly molded into a perfect pompadour. Beckett, the master electrician, had shocking green hair, flashing black glasses, and a constant current of caffeine from the innumerable Diet Cokes he drank. Aziz, who could fix literally anything if he hadn’t already built you a new one, was usually the stern voice of reason in the group, but today he was uncharacteristically giddy as he enjoyed a sunny day off with people he loved. His best friend from childhood, props master Sasha, was the smallest of the bunch, but
his heart and energy were as vast as his giant blue eyes. The newest Backstager, Reo, was a real-life witch who was actually afraid of the dark, forests, and until recently when he helped save the others from a nefarious ghost, his own power. Timothy, a very tall, very thin, very blond senior and his bearded boyfriend, Jamie—shorter, rounder, and brunet—were the stage managers at St. Genesius and had led the group through all kinds of wonderful mayhem for the last few years.
This was the regular crew, but today there were also two very special guest stars: Adrienne and Bailey. Both were students at the nearby Penitent Angels School for Girls and both were theater kids, though Adrienne was a Backstager and Bailey was an Onstager—that is to say, an actor. It was always awesome when the Genesius crew got a chance to hang with the Penitent crew, but today it was extra awesome because recently, Beckett and Bailey had started hanging out as more than friends, and Aziz and Adrienne were full-out dating. The Backstagers tried to act like it was any other group hang, but with a new season and so much new romance blossoming all around them, love was undeniably in the air.
“You know those times when you look around and realize you’re inside a memory?” Bailey asked, still catching her breath as she exited the coaster, her sleek dark hair waving in a fresh spring breeze. “Like, you’re aware as something is happening that you will remember it forever? That was one of those moments!”
Bailey was known around the Genesius backstage as the Coolest Girl in the World, and she often said beautifully insightful things like that without even realizing it. It made you want to be around her. Beckett was all too happy to get that chance more and more as the days grew longer and warmer and they explored their relationship in a new way. Beckett and Bailey had been close friends since their freshman year together at Penitent Angels. For a while after Beckett’s transfer to Genesius, they only got to see each other when Bailey would come over to play the female lead in the Genesius shows. There were a million excellent things about starting to think of each other as maybe more than friends, but the most excellent was definitely spending more time together.
“Right now I’m remembering that hot-dog-eating contest we, for some reason, decided to have right before riding the Meadowlark,” Aziz said, looking a bit grim.
“When you were VANQUISHED,” Sasha declared, “by me, Sasha, first of his name, devourer of dogs, commander of the un-nauseous, breaker of belts and buttons—”
“So what should we do now?” Jory asked.
“Relisher of relish—”
“Take a breather?” Hunter suggested. “Ice cream?”
“Master of mustard—”
“Breather yes,” Aziz said, trying to keep his lunch down. “Ice cream, we’ll see.”
“BARON OF BUNS!”
Soon the whole gang was lounging happily in a grassy knoll by the pond in the center of the amusement park. As the sun finally flirted with setting, the Backstagers watched strangers serenely circle the water in paddleboats, listening to the distant whoosh of the Meadowlark, the tinkle of a carousel, and the hum of a whole parkful of people enjoying the fresh warmth and light of spring.
“Can I just say,” Timothy said, breaking the golden spell of the late afternoon, “that it’s so nice to have this time together to just be . . . us. We’ve had a crazy year, and with our college tour coming up and then graduation right around the corner, I was worried Jamie and I wouldn’t get another day like this with you guys.”
It had been a crazy year, indeed. St. Genesius produces four full musical productions a year and the guys had just closed the third, Phantasm, a few days ago. That would be enough to fully frazzle a kid who only had to worry about homework, parents, and social survival in high school, but when you’re a Backstager, things are considerably more complicated. In this year alone, the Backstagers had fought off a horde of echo spiders, been trapped in the backstage for weeks by a creature called Polaroid, and literally DIED fighting off an actual ghost that had moved into the Genesius auditorium (luckily, their deaths were only temporary). Since then, though, things had been blissfully quiet, Phantasm had been a huge success, and the down-time between shows was filled with nothing but perfect normalcy.
“Seconded,” Jamie said, scratching his bushy beard indulgently. “I can’t believe Tim and I will be graduating in just a couple of months. It feels like yesterday I took my first steps into the backstage.”
“Be sure to let me know how you got from there to stage manager,” Reo said, lounging in the grass with his wide-brimmed black hat tilted over his eyes. “Because it’s overwhelming to say the least, being the new kid.”
Jory had to smile. He had been the new kid until Reo came along. It was very good news to be old news.
“It won’t be the same without you guys, but I’ll make you proud,” Hunter said.
“Oh, trust us, we wouldn’t be taking this college tour if we didn’t know you had it locked down,” Timothy said.
“I can’t wait to be a senior so . . . so . . . so that I can take three weeks off school and drive around the country,” Beckett said, trying to keep his cool as Bailey casually held his hand for the first time.
“I’m genuinely worried about how much Diet Coke it will take to get you through college essays, Beck,” Timothy said.
“We’ll all have your back, Hunter,” Aziz said. “It’s been a crazy tough season, but Les Terribles, Lease, and Phantasm were all huge successes. I’m psyched to go for a perfect score with Tammy.”
“And speaking of perfect scores,” Jamie said, “let’s hear it for Bailey for landing the title role—Tammy herself!”
The Backstagers all gave a hearty cheer as Bailey rolled her eyes and took a little bow. Every show St. Genesius produced, one girl from Penitent Angels was allowed to perform as a guest artist in the female lead role. Lots of hopefuls auditioned, but Bailey had been cast as the lead every single time because in addition to being the Coolest Girl in the World, she was also the most talented student actor anyone at Genesius had ever seen. This spring, she’d play the title role in the final show in St. Genesius Drama Club’s season, Tammy: the high-octane rock opera. It told the story of a young Deaf girl, Tammy, who grew up feeling cut off from the rest of the world until her talent for Skee-Ball made her an unlikely star.
“And even better . . .” Aziz said as he looked to Adrienne excitedly. He caught himself and attempted, awkwardly, since he was still learning, to communicate with her in American Sign Language. Adrienne was the only Deaf member of a hearing family, so when she wore her hearing aids, she was comfortable speaking and lip-reading around hearing people. Still, she was touched that Aziz was making an attempt to learn to sign as their relationship grew.
“You . . . scream . . . news?” he signed. Adrienne laughed and demonstrated the sign for “inform,” which she knew was more what Aziz was going for.
“No,” she signed back. “I wanted to wait until it was official.”
“I was waiting to tell everyone until I knew for sure,” Adrienne spoke aloud for the group. “I’m gonna be the sign language captain for Tammy! Penitent is letting me take a leave from Backstaging to work at Genesius, so I’ll be around for the whole rehearsal process!”
“Adrienne, that’s amazing!” Bailey jumped up and hugged her friend. “I was so nervous about the sign language, but I didn’t wanna bother you for lessons.”
“Oh girl, please, it’s my pleasure,” Adrienne replied. “Honestly, when I see hearing people play Deaf, I absolutely cringe at their signing. Hands waving around randomly, dead in the eyes . . .” She mimicked a zombie-like performance she had seen too many times before. It cracked everybody up.
“No! That’s what I’m gonna look like!” Bailey moaned, laughing. “Can’t you just play Tammy, please?!”
“You know, I actually always wanted to be an Onstager,” Adrienne said.
“Really? Why didn’t you try it?” Bailey asked.
“Kinda hard to find a place for a Deaf girl in a musical,” Adrienne rep
lied. “I’m not the most gifted singer, as you can imagine.” She said it as a joke, but Bailey wasn’t laughing. She firmly believed that theater was for everybody, and it made her sad that Adrienne had accepted her dream as impossible. Adrienne saw the dismay in Bailey’s eyes.
“Don’t stress, you’ll be great!” she said, shaking Bailey by the shoulders playfully. “I’m excited to help you. Once you’re fluent, we can talk about these boys without them knowing.” She shot Aziz a flirty look and got everyone laughing again. “Come on!” she said. “Let’s ride something! That is, if Aziz’s stomach can handle it.”
“What’s the sign for ‘puke’?” he asked as everyone peeled themselves up off the grass and started toward their next ride.
Bailey lingered for a moment, her mind still turning around what Adrienne had just said. She watched her signing with Aziz, so effortlessly, so in her element. It made her wonder.
More moments became memories as the day sped along like a roller coaster before slowing toward its finish. The gang made one last stop as they headed for the exit, because there is no greater pleasure than eating ice cream while surrounded by a galaxy of twinkling colored lights.
“We still on for tomorrow, Jory?” Reo asked. He had chosen mint ice cream specifically because “Mercury was in retrograde.” As the resident witch of the group, he said stuff like that a lot. Everyone went with it.
“Oh, totally! Meet me at the Unsafe door after school,” Jory said. He took his magic notebook out of his shoulder bag. “I think we should put the next part here,” he said, pointing to a sketch on a page.
“When are you gonna show us what you guys have been working on?” Hunter asked.
“When it’s done!” Jory said, snapping the notebook closed mischievously.
“GUYS, GUYS, GUYS,” Sasha shouted, his big eyes widening even more as he spotted a photo backdrop wall near the exit. It was a mural of the Meadowlark against a painted blue sky with a real coaster car in the foreground so you could pose on it as if you were riding it. “We have to get a PICTUUUUURE!” He sprinted toward the wall, a plump blond blur in the glittering night.