Zenna perched on a stool in the dim blue lights of the school performing arts centre control room, gazing down at the stage, her reflection on the glass window showing shadowed eyes in a tired, satisfied face.


It was perfect.


The mid-year play’s closing night had gone without a hitch, not a line missed or a cue fumbled. Yukio was a star, Quona oozing charm alongside him. They were the best drama year the school had seen for a decade, or so the whispers went.


Zenna had lit the stage and run the AV with flawless timing. She toyed with the rainbow backlighting on her keyboard as she waited for the last of the punters to leave. The cast would already be in the foyer, meeting parents and accolades. There was an after party planned later that evening at Quona’s house.


Pride swelled in Zenna’s chest. Her favourite feeling was everything coming together in a production. Stage or film, although there was an electricity at live shows she hadn’t found behind a camera. It was nice to have options.


The doors to the auditorium closed on the final stragglers, and Zenna dimmed the stage wash to black and flicked the switch on the work lights.


Not quite out of nowhere, the familiar pang hit her, a crashing in her chest like kicking over a stack of folded barn doors.


Like heartbreak.


It wasn’t Will; she was over that douchebag. And Zenna had experienced the pangs for years, only she hadn’t had a name for it until Will dumped her. Now she knew. Her heart had been broken long before she’d ever given any part of it to a boy.


Down on stage, someone yelled about a screen coming down. Zenna sighed and shoved off the stool. She wouldn’t let random unearned heartache stop her enjoying the moment.


Not tonight.