KOTA

We have a new location on Kayla Harris. Grandad surprised us with the report this morning. He did a summoning chant, knowing he shouldn't have. He needs to recover. But what's done is done. He saw where Kayla is heading. The girl is on her way to Harris Theatre for some sort of show. She has a performance tonight. I'm glad it's a place we can actually go, not a private domicile.  

This is the update we needed. Another shot. One last attempt to discover if there is a cure. I have to keep positive that she can locate one. Grandad said it best. Nature always has a balance in place. Natural cures enigma most plant life on earth. There are plants which cure deadly poison. Maybe it'll be some strange herb that'll cure me. Or a special kind of liquid. Maybe magic won't be my savior?

The Ahoka family pile into the wagon. Grandad and Dyani join them this time. "Remember, you three...you'll remain in the crowd. We'll handle the conversation. Matto orders. "The objective is to blend in."

I want to say how can I, but the pendant has restored a hint of my normal complexion. I'm still ashy...but not as much as I was before. I was white as a ghost when I first changed. My caramel skin was gone completely. At least now there's a glimpse of the tint. A somewhat silvery brown. As for my eyes. The honey color will never return..

The wagon rolls down a single road. The drive is long due to them living on the west side, not the east. The same drastic transition from poverty to worthy bothers Kota. I always heard how bad cities are. I never thought there could be such separation. Back home, my town was all as one. No one lived better or worse. No one laughed in the face of the lesser, with lavish houses and fancy vehicles. We were a community. This city is far from that.

It's hard to not dwell on my hometown. The deep cut is still present in my soul. The coldness of this environment reminds me of how much I loved Tahlequah. My forever home will always plague me. So will the reason we fled. I'm the problem...even now, I'm something to be fixed. Just as this city. 

Kota gazes at his hands as the car steers. He ignores the window and the giant buildings whizzing by. He's thinking ahead now. To the theater. To finally seeing Kayla in person, not through a layer of magic. Her charming face and doe eyes. The swirling curls of her bushy hair. I can't wait to see the colors she possess.

Grandad functions as their map, he has the dwelling memorized from the vision. Matto swerves the corner streets of downtown Chicago, peering through the rear-view mirror at his father. "Are we close? Do you see the place?"

"Yes." Grandad eyes glow white under the sun, similar to a cat's night vision. Eerie and jarring. He's accessing the surroundings. Stretching his third eye further. "Three blocks, keep straight." The old man directs with certainty. He sees the exact building. "A theater full of black-lined windows." He describes. "Her thoughts are very vivid. The child must have opened her mind. I see through her." Matto keeps straight as commanded. 

The theater is hard to miss. A new addition to the older buildings lining the streets. Modern and edgy. An artsy, box structure; five levels high. He flips on the turning signal and parks on the curb.

Kota is suddenly cynical. The weight of realism warps his mind. What if this goes badly? What if she says no? "Rest your mind." Grandad reads him. "She will help. Trust my intuition..." He reassures his grandson.

Matto and Odina leave the car first. Dyani follows after. Kota aid his grandfather getting out of the back seat. Will I be able to walk through? This is a public domain...right? I guess I'll find out. Kota shoes near the threshold. Although his heart is dead, he witness it imitate pounding, only the organ doesn't pump. The blood around it does. The relief of passing through with no complications ease him. Inside, the walls are colored neon: pink, yellow, orange. White banisters cage a three-tier staircase.

His parents approach the box office. He's never seen them prioritize a task before. They're on a mission. Matto and Odina have a flare similar to sharks out for blood. "Which show stars Kayla Harris?" He hears his mother ask urgently.

"That'll be LUNA. An original narrative by Studio Doll. Kayla Harris will be soloing."

"Perfect. We'll need five tickets." 

KAYLA

A buzzing frequency needles Kayla's ears. The noise rattles her teeth and prickles her spine. She stops stretching her leg to cover her earlobes. "What is that noise??!"

Jia pauses mid-stretch, resembling a flapping bird. "What noise?"

"Is there a speaker on...or something?"

Isabell, who strolls past the balancing bars, shrugs, "It must be sound testing."

Kayla uncap her ears a little, then winches and covers them again. "I can't concentrate...the noise is too loud."

Isabell stops to listen...confused by the silence. "I hear nothing."

Kayla looks down the rows, where her classmates bend their bodies to perfection. "No one else hears that??" She's stunned when everyone shakes their head.

Mya listens, she even strains her neck. "No...maybe it's stress."

"I don't think stress messes with your hearing." Kayla scoffs.

"Well...what else can it be?"

It could be that man and woman trying to reach out to me. The ones from Halloween night. I heard a similar buzz...only this one is severe. Once again, she keeps this to herself . No one will believe that I saw people open a portal right in front of me. Kayla lowers her leg. "I need water, Ms. Hayle."

"Make it quick or your muscles will go lazy."

"Yes, ma'am." Kay hustles out, leaving backstage, which is cluttered with latters, tall light poles, and hanging costumes from previous shows. The last performance was Sleeping Beauty. Aurora's glittery blue dress and Maleficent's black/ purple cloak hang near the door. She nears a drinking fountain, gulping down the water. The water is cold enough to calm her ears some. But not completely. So, she keeps drinking until it subsides.

Are those people back? But why? What do they want? Is the boy I saw before connected to them? She recalls the night she used the Ouija board. A burnt-out campfire. Dead teenagers on the ground. The one with the neck gash. 

His unbelievable gorgeousness. His long, dark hair and rugged features. His pale eyes...and how they matched the pastel flames from the strange dimension. The boy isn't human. The air spirit showed me the truth. He's a vampire. His unbelievable appearance proves this is true. I assume the man and woman are related to him. Possibly his parents.

She leaves the fountain to carry on with the stretching exercise. The chiming tone is a little better. It doesn't hurt as much anymore. I hope this doesn't ruin my solo. I should ask Isabell for aspirin. This is the biggest night of my life; nothing should ruin it. Kayla post to the barre and follow along with the class. Isabell demonstrates before her students, bending one leg to the side of her head. Then holds for ten seconds before switching. 

Next is a low dip leg split, they all reach the floor without ruining the straight posture of their backs and arms. A praying mantis pose is next. Their legs create a perfect square while on tiptoe. The stick insect position is held for twenty seconds, while they arc their arms. Their core muscles heating up a furnace.

Afterwards, ballet shoes are broken in. The girls unwrap new slippers. "Ahh..." Kayla sniffs the pleasant smell of brand-new fabric, recalling her 5-year-old self sliding her small feet into the shoes. The group uses a tool, similar to a food grader, to scrape the bottom of the stiff shoes, shredding the material into falling dust. Then they bang the shoes on the floor, focusing on the tip; the area is whacked repeatedly.

Once done, the class bend them back to the front, a popping sound follow. The same is done to the skank, the middle of the shoes, until more popping occurs. The ballet slippers are banged on the floor a few more times. The shoes are now flexible and twist back and forth easily. Okay, done. Perfect, my arches will be one with the footwear, I won't slip or sound too loud on stage.

"Remember, the scouts will be front and center." Isabel announces.

"How many are coming?" Kay is curious.

"Ten total...they're all from New York. This night will write the history of our studio. Tonight, will open the path to nationals. So, bring your best."

Exclaims of disbelief escape the girls, who stare at each other in astonishment. There has never been ten...one or two at most. This means Studio Doll is gaining a reputation. "WOW!" Kay gasps. Good thing I finished my routine! Usually, our shows draw in less talent scouts. This will be a huge win for us!

"Alright, gather around." Her class huddle in a circle, laying their hands atop another. "On three, one, two, three!"

"STUDIO DOLL!!" They yell, breaking their hands apart.

KOTA

Time is speeding up instead of slowing down. I thought when anticipating something; it mocks you by going slow. That must be a myth...because the minutes sprint. The Ahoka family enter the auditorium at 5pm. The crowd is massive....so is the stadium. Hundreds of rows of seats start from the very front and end three stories high on balconies. Kota avoids eye contact knowing people are wondering why he's so colorless. 

Maybe their first thought isn't a vampire....they could think I'm sickly. But still my eyes are a mystery. It's best I look away and hope the attendees assume I'm wearing outrageous contact lenses.

He reads the program packet. The cover showcases each of the members of Studio Doll. Kota eagerly searches for Kayla, but the ballerinas are turned away on the image. This was done to showcase their blue costume and how they tie in the back as corsets do. The dancers are on tiptoe. 

So, she's a ballerina? A good one too, if she's soloing. Kayla must be an immaculate dancer. It appears she's a triple threat. A talent performer. A Spell Bender....and beauty queen. I can't wait to see what she does on stage. I doubt she anticipates seeing me as much as I do her. Can I even exist in her world? Does she know what I am? How I look? Will her heavenly eyes sweep past me as they would a stranger?

His mother escorts them to the 8th row to their assigned seats. Grandad wobbles. Kota steadies him. "You shouldn't have done the locater spell...."

"Maybe so..." He inhales hard, finally admitting he was reckless to use so much power by himself. Kota assists him in sitting down.

Matto is also wary of his father's loss of energy. "You need to eat...that should help." He makes his way to the main doors, excusing himself in order to bypass the large crowd.

"I will untap from her mind...now that I am certain."

"Yes...please take it easy." Kota can't help but be intrigued by his mind link. "How certain are you?"

"Completely."

"Do you know what she's thinking?"

"Yes...but only in fragments." He answers frailly.

"Does she know about my kind?"

"She knows of vampires...particularly a red eyed, blonde one. Kayla has seen your transition."

Red eyed, blonde one??? That sounds like the vampire that plagued me and my friends! Who killed my crew...who trapped me in this life of hell! Kota is too rocked by this information to say anything. He witness flashbacks of the vampire above the campfire. How it prayed for fun...for pleasure. The joy of the game is evident now that he's experienced the taste of hunger. That demon enjoyed the chaos it wielded. It deserves to pay for its actions. I'll ask Kayla where she's seen it. I need a location!

Odina sighs in relief. "Good to know, that's one less thing to worry about. The talk will go smoothly."

"Fingers crossed, little brother." Dy grins.

Kota snaps out of his brooding and gives a wide smile to his big sister. "Thank you, kamama (butterfly)."

"You're welcome, walela (hummingbird)."

Matto returns with two soup and crackers. "Please eat."

Grandfather accepts the warm meal. "Wado, uwetsi (Thank you, son)."

No one is left standing; every guest is seated. Each row is a sea of endless heads. The live orchestra sets up in a designated platform before the stage. The violinists are the first to strum their instruments, although the chattering of the crowd drowns most of the tune out.